Work Text:
Fire laps around his frame; it’s majestic. Sabo’s never quite seen a flame user like him before. He’s like the element itself, twisting and twirling with it until it becomes a dance. Fire and man, are natural enemies but they seem friends, either way.
Sabo believes he’s found his witch.
But when he approaches the man, it comes with consequences. Ace, he’s called, and much like his preferred element, he’s wild and burns with anger. Sabo still tries, despite Ace’s less than… favourable personality. But he’s only rewarded with a ball of fire that he narrowly evades.
But Sabo has always been a determined spirit if nothing else.
He tries again the next day when Ace is in the arena again and training. He’s heard murmurs of the man’s aspirations. “He wants to be the strongest,” a woman in the local tavern said, with a sultry grin: “I think he's just overcompensating for something.” Sabo smiled politely and left in a hurry after that. Overall, the locals of this small, isolated town had little to offer Sabo concerning their irritated fire witch.
But Sabo wants only the best on his team, so, he disregards the pitying stares he’s offered and approaches Ace. He ducks below a wild throw of fire, and this time it’s not intentional. Sabo thanks his fast reflexes, and calls out, “Hey,” he’s expecting to be ignored, like yesterday. Or to receive a face full of fire—like yesterday. But Ace turns, with a sneer, just as his leg catches against a mannequin. The straw head cracks under the pressure and explodes. No sign of fire.
He’s strong too, Sabo notes.
“The fuck do you want?” Sabo attempts to not wince, but it’s a fruitless endeavour. Ace's black hair falls in waves and whips around in the wind, as he whirls on Sabo.
Sabo relies on his charms—which he totally has. “I have an offer—”
Ace snorts and swerves away from him like he’s insignificant and Sabo frowns. “You can take your offer and shove it up your ass.” He’s dismissed, but Sabo doesn’t relent.
Sabo takes a step forward, watching as Ace refuses to showcase his flames, now that he knows he has an audience. Sabo’s persistent, “I have a quest,” he begins, disregarding the way Ace’s shoulders hike up. He’s defensive, Sabo jots down in the back of his mind. The sand kicks up into the air, as Ace performs kicks. He’s training, and while his movements are sloppy, the force behind each hit is certainly not lacking. “I need someone to join me.”
Sabo knows it’s pathetic to come to the training yards and beg for some random fire user to join him on a quest but he’s low on coin and well—he’s never seen someone dance with fire like Ace does.
Ace is silent, as he switches from kicks to his fists—the leather gloves he wears hardly do anything to cushion the blows he deals to the body of the mannequin. Sabo can make out the lines of blood that paint his brown skin.
After a minute, Ace speaks up: “A quest, really? Get lost, I’m not interested.” With a final punch, the mannequin is sent flying towards the wall and crashes. Ace curses, “Shit.” Like clockwork, a man that comes to the height of Sabo’s waist comes pouring into the arena.
His beard is long and thick, and distantly, Sabo recognizes cookie crumbs in his brown beard. “Goddammit, Ace,” he snarks, shaking his fist in the air. He points to the broken mannequin, “That’s the twelfth one this week, Boy!” Sabo recalls the man’s name, as something like Sandy—Sandal?
“Fuck off, Sam,” Ace retorts, the faintest of smoke beginning to slither out of his ears like he’s a tea kettle. Sabo watches, quiet and contemplative. “I pay to be here like anyone else, what’s a bit of damage?” Ace strolls forward and rights the mannequin; it noticeably lacks a head. “See? Good as new.”
Sam raises a bushy eyebrow, “Twelve.” He reiterates, “Twelve in one week. Seven last week, eight the one before that—”
“Okay—okay, jeez.” Ace relents, dusting off his jorts. “I’ll pay you later.” He waves away Sam’s concerns and brushes past Sabo like he’s just another obstacle. Something clicks in Sabo’s mind, then. Or, so, he thinks.
Fast—because Sabo's always been speedy, he grabs Ace’s shoulder and ignores how hot his skin is—and lifts. Ace is light in Sabo’s grip, like a bag of grapes. The position is awkward, but he pulls Ace into the air and hurls him to the ground, all within three seconds. Ace doesn’t have enough time to blink, never mind fight back as he lands on the dirt with a sputter and bewildered expression.
“You want to be strong, right?” Sabo says, ignoring the squawk from Sam behind him. Ace glares at him, so Sabo doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “Come with me, then.” He gestures to Ace, “You still have a lot to learn.” He's talking out of his ass, mostly.
Ace’s eyes are a walnut brown, but his freckles are golden and it’s only then that Sabo notices them. “What the hell is wrong with you?” It’s a miracle that he hasn’t burned Sabo to a crisp, just yet, and Sabo takes that and runs with it.
“I have a quest,” he reiterates, “it’s going to pay good coin. I just need a partner.” He cocks his head to where Sam stands, as he regards them with an aggravated scowl. “You can pay him back and still walk away with extra. C’mon,” Sabo smiles, and he knows it looks cocky—but he’s figured Ace out. “What do you have to lose?”
Ace promptly smacks his waiting palm away, “My dignity.” He stands and it’s a miracle he doesn’t ignite flames around Sabo and burn him to a crisp. “Now piss off.” Ace flips him off, a burst of fire sprouting from his middle finger to further his point. “I don’t want your stupid quest, and I could give two shits about strength.”
He leaves just like that and Sabo understands he’s missing something—something which will complete Ace's picture.
Sabo visits the tavern again; somehow, it looks more decrepit than the last time Sabo had visited. He finds that he doesn’t miss the stench that wafts through the floor—like that of rotten meat and sweat.
The music is loud, but it’s distinct to the region. A mix of sea-shanty boastful singing and the rocking of boots and guitar of country folk. He finds it pleasant sounding, compared to the roaring laughter of patrons. He manoeuvres through the crowd, expertly avoiding the elbows and waving hands in the air as he reaches the bar. He taps the counter and like magic, a woman appears before him. Black hair to her jaw and cigarette in her mouth, she says: “What can I get you?”
Sabo smiles politely. “Information, hopefully.” Shakky presumably, nods. At least, Sabo hopes this is Shakky, in which the establishment is appropriately named Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar.
“I think I have something of the sort,” she grins crookedly and Sabo searches through his pockets for where he knows he has a pouch full of coin.
“I’m looking for someone,” a hand stops him.
“Let me guess, black hair, freckles, real handsome but has a nasty mouth?” Shakky says, brushing a stray hair behind her ear as she ducks her head low, her smirk wide and teeth glinting under the fluorescent lighting. Sabo flinches away.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, eloquently. “How’d you know?”
Shakky leans back and toys with the cigarette in her hand, she gestures with her head to the right of the tavern, “That right over there,” her black eyes land on a man with greying hair and wrinkles, alone in a corner. “That’s my husband.” Her words aren’t exactly warm but they’re fond enough that Sabo knows she means it. “He’s… Ace’s godfather, for lack of a better word.”
Sabo raises his eyebrow, “Oh?” Shakky has his full attention, now.
Shakky nods, inhaling a lungful of smoke before breathing it out, not remotely caring as a patron wrinkles their nose and leaves. “Mhm, not much happens around here without us knowing. At least when it comes to Ace,” Shakky levels her heavy gaze on him, and her arms are crossed against her chest. “He came home pissed today.”
Sabo winces, “Yeah,” he decides to offer up an explanation of sorts if only to save his ass. He’s new to this lone town and he’s not exactly looking to make enemies. Quite the opposite, actually. “Look, I just came by the arena—”
“Looking for a partner, for your quest. I know. Word travels fast; Sam’s a good friend of mine.” She bobs her head as the guitar in the background takes an excited turn and the music becomes upbeat. “How much coin?”
“Enough to pay any damage to the arena and extra.” Sabo remarks.
A blow of her cigarette, “Hm, that much, huh? What kind of quest is it, then?” She’s leaning forward, the dim glow of the lights shadowing her face. She looks dangerous, under the lighting, in tight leather pants and a black tank top.
Sabo opts for honesty, “A dungeon,” he adjusts the sleeve of his coat, a nervous tick that he knows Shakky picks up on. He lets her make assumptions. “A frost dungeon, to be specific.”
She raises a thin brow in intrigue, “Those are… tricky. I suppose it makes sense that you’d need a partner when you’re…” she positions herself against the counter, fully leaning against it now. She’s mulling over her words, for a moment and Sabo thinks she is shrewder than she looks. “A non-magic user.” She settles on.
Sabo chuckles, low and a little concerned. “Was it that obvious?” He supposes it makes sense, it’s not like he emits power—not like Ace had. Or Shakky does. But he likes to think he’s rather secretive.
Shakky laughs, then, a full-bodied thing. “Oh, Boy, a witch reeks of power, when they walk in.” So, she can sense abilities, then—he mentally files that away for later. “You’re… quiet. Like a cloud amid all this—” her shoulders shake, “storm.” Her words are laced with mirth and she pulls away, “I like you,” she decides. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
Sabo leans forward, waiting with bated breath for her next words. “Yeah?” He says, prodding because he’s desperate for the coin and a partner—she hadn’t been lying, a frost dungeon is one of the worst to explore.
“The way to Ace’s heart,” she winks and Sabo scowls, “is food. Oh! And his little brother.”
Sabo’s lips purse in thought, a plan already forming within the crevices of his mind. He can certainly work with these. “Little brother?” He questions, peering up as the woman pulls away and begins preparing a bottle for a customer.
Shakky hums, “Yes, Luffy. He’s… eccentric. But Ace,” she hesitates but continues only a moment later, as though the period of silence was all Sabo's imagination. “He wants the best for him, you see? So, you fix him a deal he can’t refuse, and he’ll join you.”
“Thank you,” Sabo says in earnest, ducking his head. He asks, after a brief silence, “Why, uhm, are you helping me?”
“I’ve always liked an underdog,” Shakky remarks idly, sliding the cold beer down the bar counter. It lands perfectly. “Ace is one too, maybe a bit more rough around the edges but he’s a sweetheart.” She eyes Sabo, pointedly. “And I have a good eye,” she winks and Sabo understands she’s referring to whatever power she has. “I know what he needs, and I think this quest will do just fine.”
Sabo flushes out of embarrassment. “Thanks, Shakky.”
She waves him off, “None of that, I could care less for gratitude. Just get out of here.”
“Oh, about that—do you know where I can find Ace?” Sabo moves just fast enough to avoid a stumbling man as he calls for three bottles of sake.
“My guess, the woods. He trains a lot,” she turns her back to him and Sabo takes it for what it is, a dismissal. He still bids her farewell and a handful of coin for her information, and leaves, with more knowledge than he could’ve ever wished to gather.
He has the makings of a plan formed in his mind by the time he reaches the edge of the forest. It’s on the outskirts of the town, where houses become more distant and farmland spreads across the hills as far the eye can see. It’s quiet, with all the animals sleeping, only the sound of crickets reaches his ears. The air is fresh against his skin, the moon high in the sky and Sabo has to give credit where credit is due—it is the perfect night to train. He wanders deeper into the forest, past hanging branches and over roots that obstruct the man-made path. The forest is dark, with the only light being from the moon, as it shines down in beams through the canopy of leaves overhead. It’s—it’s beautiful. Even though Sabo’s seen it a million times, being a traveller, that is, he thinks he’ll never quite get used to being under the stars in nature.
There’s a constant hum of energy—magic, that surrounds him. He may not possess any of it but he feels it, alive and thrumming with life in everything he makes contact with. The trees, for one, sprout from the ground with giant trunks and reach to the heavens. They emit magical energy in waves. The path eventually comes to an end and he begins wandering through the forest, trailing after any tracks he finds embedded in the ground—broken sticks, crushed leaves or more noticeably, footprints. He follows it until he comes to a clearing of trees. The grass is stamped to the ground, from constant walking and in the centre amid it all—is Ace, with a boy at his side.
“No, not like that—dammit, Luffy.” Ace sighs, as he fixes Luffy’s stance. Luffy is shorter than Ace, reaching his waist, and he bears little resemblance to Ace—where Ace’s skin is brown, Luffy’s is a tawny beige, whereas Ace’s hair is black and long with curls, Luffy’s is sporadically cut, black hair. It's mostly veiled by the straw hat he wears, however.
Luffy’s eyes are round, with a scar along his left eye, whereas Ace’s eyes are narrowed—on Sabo.
“I’m trying, Ace—” Luffy whines but Ace smashes a hand against his mouth.
He hisses, “Shut up.” Luffy peers up at him, then to where his brother stares off into the distance. His eyes light up but Ace’s hand keeps him quiet. “The fuck do you want?” He sounds angry; protective, and Sabo understands to tread carefully.
He doesn’t take a step closer but stands at the edge of the moment he interrupts. “I’m Sabo,” he says, hoping to appear less threatening. Ace’s frame is still coiled tight with wrath, like a snake, he eyes him and waits to attack. One wrong move and Sabo will certainly be blasted by fire.
Luffy rips Ace’s hand away and grins, “I’m Luffy!” He’s loud and his voice echoes in the clearing. Sabo finds that his smile has taken a more genuine edge. “Why are you here?” He asks bluntly but Ace shoves him away.
“Go home, Luffy. I need to kick this guy’s ass,” Luffy pouts, as though put off that he might not get to witness Ace beating Sabo to a pulp—charming kid, really.
“But Ace, he’s nice!” Sabo halts, entirely, eyes widening as they inspect Luffy closer—a mistake, as Ace comes sprinting at him with a kick of his feet. He makes contact with Sabo and they tumble to the ground in a fit of limbs. Sabo coughs and moves just in time to avoid a fist to the face. Ace’s body is hot against his, and oh, yeah. Fire witch.
Sabo shoves him off, just in time to duck below a ball of flames. It hits the tree behind him, the sound of sizzling echoing in the clearing. “First, you harass me. Then, when I tell you to fuck off, you stalk me?” Ace seethes, fire licking his shoulders and the burst of power from the young witch does not go unnoticed by Sabo. He doesn’t retreat, though.
“Shakky told me where you were.” Ace pauses, eyebrows furrowing as his gaze flicks over to his brother. The fire is dimming, and Sabo takes the opportunity to continue. “I just wanted to take you to… dinner!” He stumbles over his words, in his haste to bring the situation from a ten to a more acceptable, zero—seriously, the constant fire attacks were beginning to become a bit too much.
Silence engulfs the clearing, barring the sizzling of a burning tree.
With a snap of Ace’s fingers, the fire becomes smoke and filters up to the sky. Sabo exhales a sigh of relief, now that he knows they didn't accidentally cause a forest fire. Small mercies.
“Dinner?” Ace asks, mocking and it’s only then that Sabo realizes how it sounds.
“Uh—no, not like that! We just—uhm, sorry, uh—got off on the wrong foot?” He stammers, fingers rifling through his blonde locks.
“Dinner!” Luffy exclaims, bouncing over with little care. “Where are you taking us?” He says before Ace can intervene. Sabo accepts that his plan is utterly useless, anyway. Ace is too unpredictable for those.
“We’re not going anywhere with Blondie—” Ace starts but Sabo ignores him, staring at Luffy. Now, that he’s closer, he can make out the black eyes that swirl with a tinge of red—otherworldly, his mind supplies. He decides to not mention it.
“The place on Syrup Street,” he says, smiling as the assumed teenager whirls on his brother and deploys puppy-like eyes. Ace falls victim to them, easily. “I hear they have great ramen.”
“I’ve never been,” Luffy blinks at him, knowing full well that Ace has already given in to his wishes. “Do they have meat?”
“Probably.”
Luffy nods, slapping his fist against his palm. “Then we’ll eat there.” He says the epitome of seriousness. Sabo stifles a chuckle.
“Look, we appreciate the offer,” Ace’s words are sour enough that Sabo understands that he doesn’t appreciate jackshit. “But we don’t have the money to spare for that. I’m…” he wavers but shoves on. “I’m saving for this dumbass’ schooling, I can’t—”
Sabo waves his hand, it’s covered by black leather to hide the scarring that decorates his white skin. “No worries, I’ll pay.” Ace and Luffy blink at him, and distantly, Sabo thinks he’s made a mistake.
He’s definitely made a mistake, he thinks as he watches them guzzle down plates worth of lamb, burgers, ramen—anything they can get their hands on. By the time they’ve individually gone through ten plates each, and Sabo has eaten a respectable seven, Ace finds the time to talk.
“So, if you’re so hard up for coin, enough so to come begging me to join your quest,” he gestures to the restaurant around them and the booth they’d chosen, right by the door. “Why pay for all of us?”
“Who said I was paying?” Sabo quirks an eyebrow, as he idly wipes at whatever sauce coats his cheeks.
Luffy stops, eyeing him from the corner of the booth, where Ace had pushed him, in a misguided attempt to keep him safe in the face of a stranger. “Uh, you did?”
Sabo smiles, “You’ve never dined and dashed?” Luffy’s lips tilt up and from the glint in Ace’s eyes, he knows they’re willing and ready. He adjusts his cravat and tilts his head to the door. “So?”
Ace is the first one out, dragging Luffy behind him and it shouldn’t be so surprising that he’d leave Sabo for the wolves. Still, Sabo finds himself squawking in protest as he trails after the two sprinting brothers. They’re fast, as they burst from the restaurant and onto the streets, and even quicker as they wind through alleys and down streets. Fortunately, Sabo’s fast on his feet and lags behind them only by a metre.
They stop by a bookstore, somewhere at the edge of town and Sabo heaves.
“That food was delicious!” Luffy exclaims, cheeks red from running. He’s hardly panting. “I want more.” Ace smacks his head and Luffy giggles, dancing against the cobble of the street and singing some tune.
“Ignore him, he’s… unique,” Ace says, mirth veiling any insult he might’ve intended. It’s as clear as day, to Sabo that Ace adores Luffy. Luffy's peering into the glass of the bookshop, when Ace turns to him. “Why?”
Sabo doesn’t have to pry, to know what he’s asking. He shrugs, “I approached it horribly,” he admits, “I shouldn’t have attacked you.”
Ace scoffs, but it’s softer. Well as soft as Ace can be. “Whatever, I threw fire at you. We’re even.” Sabo doesn’t mention that he’s been attacked by fire several times. He thinks that’ll only sour the potentially blooming friendship between them. “Look, I appreciate this, but I can’t go on that quest with you.” Ace frowns, staring up at the sky and in the back of Sabo’s mind, he wonders how someone can glow like a star under the moon. “To be honest, I’m not even sure why you’re so adamant on me, of all people, joining you.”
Sabo shrugs, “You want to be strong, right?” He thinks of that woman’s words, in the tavern—he’s not so sure her words were genuine, now.
Ace jostles his shoulders, “I mean, that sounds nice. And maybe I do.” Ace's lips purse, as his gaze lands on Luffy who inspects the underside of a rock. “But I have a job.”
Sabo doesn’t mean to pry, but he asks anyway. “Where are your parents?” He expects Ace to return to his cold exterior, but perhaps the warm meal loosens his lips.
“Uh, dead. Or gone, at least. I don’t know. And I don’t care.” Ace licks his lips and Sabo tracks the movement, catching the glistening of saliva against dry lips. “I look after Luffy.”
“And your godfather?”
Ace glances at him, “Jeez, how much did Shakky tell you?”
Sabo huffs and stretches his shoulder, if only to do something. The scars along his face ache, but it's mostly a phantom pain. He’s learned to ignore it. “She said she likes underdogs,” he says in lieu of explaining his encounter with the eccentric bartender.
“Of course, she does.” Ace scoffs, “He’s there, my old man’s best friend but they’re not exactly loaded. And being an errand boy doesn’t pay as good as you’d think. Most of the tips go to savings,” he gestures to Luffy and Sabo understands.
“Honestly,” and it’s the most honest Sabo’s been in his life, probably. “I chose you because you’re a fire witch, and the quest involves a frost dungeon.”
Ace’s eyebrows furrow as he whistles, “Those are nasty. I hear they got all kinds of monsters in there.”
“Yeah, it’s recommended you raid them with a partner and my client—he wants a rare jewel, that can only be found in those caves.” Sabo offers, freely, the gentle push of the wind encouraging him to be sincere. Less planning and more genuine words, his mind whispers. It’s the only way he’s managed to connect to Ace. “You look strong enough to handle those.”
“You really have no one else?” Sabo winces and looks away.
“I prefer solo quests. But the coin was too good to pass up,” he gives, watching as Luffy pulls a worm from beneath the rock. He wonders if he will eat it. Ace kicks a rock at his face and Luffy promptly drops it and shuts his mouth. Sabo finds it both concerning and amusing. Luffy seems to sense their conversation is important, because he turns and begins fiddling inside a bush, just by the bookshop.
Ace hums, watching his little brother. His stare is fond, “How much, exactly?”
Sabo thinks for a moment, eyeing the relaxed posture and carefree smile Ace points at Luffy. “Enough for schooling.” It seems that is all he has to say as Ace agrees, under one simple condition:
“If I don’t make it out of there, I want my half to be automatically donated to Luffy, anyway.”
Sabo’s not quite sure why he agrees, but he does.
It takes a week's worth of planning their mini escapade before they’re off. Their departure is not without a good bit of farewells, mostly for Ace. But Luffy and Shakky offer him a goodbye; Luffy’s far more enthusiastic about it.
“Goodbye, Sabo! When you come back, can we go out and eat again?” He’s embracing Sabo; he feels overwhelmingly awkward stuck to the grass with a thirteen-year-old hugging him.
“Sure.” He says—he’s never been hugged as much as he has been this week. Luffy, as Sabo would come to find out, was excessively physically affectionate. Even to strangers, he had just met a week ago. Shakky pulls Luffy back by the nape of his shirt and gives him a nod. He doesn’t understand the knowing glimmer in her eyes but ignores it in favour of adjusting the straps of his bag.
“You stay safe, boys.” Shakky says and drags Luffy away.
Luffy calls out, as their shapes become smaller in the distance: “Bring back lots of cool things, Ace!” His voice trails off into the air and Sabo breathes a sigh of ease. Luffy is… as Ace put it, unique.
Ace is quiet by him, solemn as he turns away and continues walking into the forest. Sabo sprints after him, mindful of the rocks that protrude in the path. “So, you’ve ever been on a quest?” Sabo asks, opting for conversation rather than the silence that engulfs the partners. He’s never had a partner on a quest, before.
Ace’s nose crinkles in thought, “Does running to the butcher to collect meat, count?”
Sabo huffs, “No, not really.”
“Then no.” The conversation ends, dull and useless. Sabo sighs. It’s going to be a long week, he decides.
A week of travel with Ace is… interesting. At first, Sabo had expected total silence but as it would turn out, as they ventured further away from the desolate town and deeper into the growth of the forest, Ace was a talkative person. Given, that he had stuff to talk about.
“What’s this?” It’s the seventh question he’s asked, and Sabo’s considering banging his head against the bark of the nearest tree. Seventh question, this morning—it’s only been three hours since they’ve woken up.
Sabo looks to where Ace’s index finger points and finds him looking at a bush of Crimson berries. The name is not unfounded; savoury tasting, so Sabo heard, but as deadly as a shotgun. Only an hour after eating it, one would puke blood—not exactly a way Sabo wants to go out.
Ace is reaching for it by the time Sabo scrambles over and smacks his hand away. “Have you, like, ever left your town?” Sabo asks, tersely. He pointedly leads Ace away from the bush and down the path. Soon, they’ll reach the end of it and will have to navigate the dense forest.
“No,” Ace says, offering him a glare. Sabo’s hand retreats from his shoulder, disregarding the warmth that dissipates as soon as he does. “I was always too busy. My downtime was mostly spent training Luffy and I.”
Sabo hums, “Okay, well, first lesson, don’t eat every berry you see. Especially not Crimson berries, those are nasty. They’ll kill you by the hour.” Ace’s eyes widen as he spares a glance behind him and he lets out a little gasp of understanding. Silence returns and Sabo breaks it because frankly, he can’t stand it. “So, you trained Luffy?”
Ace startles from his stupor but manages a nod, “Yeah, sometimes Rayleigh would help. But he’s not a witch, so…”
Sabo thinks of Luffy’s eyes, how they glimmered with red. And his words, “But Ace, he’s nice!” It settles in Sabo’s mind, an echoing mantra—it could be nothing, but Luffy’s eyes, had seemed otherworldly below the moon’s light.
“Ace,” Sabo starts, hesitating but he finds courage in the sun that grazes against his skin. “Luffy, is he a witch too?”
Ace mulls over his next words, carefully. “Honestly, I have no idea. He’s different,” it’s surprisingly frank and Sabo finds himself listening with rapt attention. Ace’s stare hardens, “Don’t get any ideas—Luffy’s still my little brother and I’ll kick your ass if you even so much as think about pawning him off—”
“What? No—” Sabo rushes to placate, “I was asking out of curiosity. In the clearing, when I followed—”
“Stalked me.” Ace supplies.
Sabo pointedly ignores his interruption, “He said something. He didn’t even know me and he said I was nice.” Sabo thinks back to Shakky and her intuition about him. “And Shakky—she guessed I wasn’t a witch, right off the bat.” It’s not like he’s an open book. But they seemed to read him right away, anyway.
“Oh, Luffy, he’s good at reading people. It might be his ability or, just him, in general. And Shakky—she was lying, mostly. She can’t sense things, but more, see glimpses into the future. She probably saw you admit to not being a witch before you even spoke.” Sabo bobs his head, processing the information.
“So, I was tricked, is what you’re saying?”
Ace smirks, “Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re not the first sorry sap to fall victim to her games. And you certainly won’t be the last.” He skips over an overgrown root, and it’s then that Sabo realizes the path has long blended into grass and they’re now trekking through overgrown plants and rugged terrain.
“Thanks,” Sabo says but hardly means it.
It’s another night, when the moon is high and they’re nearing their destination, that Ace speaks up. “What about you?” Sabo hums, underneath the warmth of his sleeping bag and beside the fire that Ace has manifested. The night is cozy, for once. He finds he doesn’t mind having a partner. “I’ve told you a lot, but I know jackshit about you.”
Sabo snorts, “That’s not my fault,”
“But it is,” he can imagine Ace’s frown, the way it causes wrinkles to form along his brow. He glances over—feels compelled to, to glimpse the way the flicker of the fire skims his face and paints it; he looks attractive. He files that thought away for later when he’s not sharing a campsite with his quest partner.
Sabo sighs, “Let’s see.” He’s at a loss as to what to share. “I like ramen, I’m not a witch. But if I was one, I like to think I’d have electricity powers. Those are cool.” A bitch to fight, though.
Ace laughs and Sabo watches as his shoulders shake beneath the cushions of a sleeping bag. His hair is spread out against the makeshift pillow of blanket and—
“That’s boring. Electricity is useless compared to my fire.” Sabo rises to the bait like a fish to a hook.
“What? No, I could totally kick your ass.” Sabo says, but he finds he doesn’t mean the hostility. He’s amused by Ace’s teasing.
“Yeah, sure. The only time you’ve had me pinned down, was when you caught me by surprise.” Ace remarks, rustling his black locks out of his face. He spares Sabo a glance, smirking, “Face it, Blondie, you’re weak sauce.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll leave you in that dungeon to fend for yourself.” Ace sputters in protest and a giggle escapes Sabo’s lips unconsciously. The trees are rustling above them, and the crickets are loud in their ears but Sabo thinks, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear Ace’s breathing. If he was only closer, he might hear the song that Ace’s heart sang.
“Seriously, though, is there anything you want to share with the class?” Ace questions, prodding and Sabo decides to offer an olive branch.
“I grew up around the royal guard,” he murmurs, lost in the memories of a past he’d rather not recall. It was an uneventful childhood. “I was the orphan kid they took in, I guess. Their one act of charity.” He thinks back, to the long days of sweeping floors to earn his keep. “When I was of age, I tried joining up.” Sabo pauses, contemplative of his next words. Then, “Turns out non-magic users aren’t exactly welcome.” There’d been hope, that his abilities would manifest by the time he was eighteen.
That hadn’t been the case.
Ace is silent, across the fire. After a minute, he blurts out: “That’s stupid,” and Sabo shrugs.
“Just how it is. I found my living somewhere else. Turns out you don’t need magic to pick up bounties and perform a couple of quests, and the coin isn’t so bad.” Sabo nuzzles deeper into the comforting heat of his bed. The fire crackles with life beside him.
“So, what? You just travel around and do this.” Ace gestures broadly.
Sabo ponders Ace’s question. He’s right, it does seem rather pointless when put like that but—it’s all he’s known. It’s all he’ll probably ever know. “It’s not horrible. I’ve seen a lot, and that comes with stories.” Not that he’s had anyone to tell them to. He thinks of the past, the one friend he had—Koala, a fellow orphan. She’d been taken in too, forced to mop the same floors as him. Her dream had been different than his, he recalls. Something about exploring the ocean, or whatever dream only a child could create.
He thinks it fits her, anyway. She was always a free soul, with wounded eyes. He hopes she found the ocean, eventually.
“Tell me a story,” Ace insists and Sabo does.
He tells him of the time he hunted a dragon, big and ferocious—with sharp claws and even pointier teeth. He’d nearly had his abdomen sliced open from those but he’d walked out victorious, with only a few more scars to add to his collection. The client had asked for a necklace of dragon teeth and he had delivered.
Another time, he hunted a wanted criminal across the desert plains of Alabasta—the heat had been unbearable. And the wildlife even more horrifying to withstand. He’s still not quite sure how he survived that.
Stories fall from his lips, long into the night until the moon falls below the horizon and the sun rises, with it, the sky turns a pinkish colour. And Ace’s breaths even out with its arrival. Sabo doesn’t mind, because, for the first time in a while, he feels content.
He doesn’t want it to end.
The map in Sabo’s hands is thin and frail, but the caves marked by a red X, glare at him. They’ve reached the beginning of the mountain, where the dungeon’s entrance is. It’s rather unassuming, but Sabo knows it’s practically the mouth to hell. He drops his bag to the ground at the edge and ignores how the sharp spikes resemble the teeth of dragons.
“Okay,” Sabo says and Ace turns to him, giving him his full attention. He’s not trembling with anxiety like Sabo expected him to be. “It’s a frost dungeon, therefore it’s going to be freezing.” He rummages through his bag until he locates his long, thick winter coat. He stuffs the map inside and ignores how it crinkles. “I hope you packed a coat—”
“Don’t need one,” Ace snaps his fingers and fire emerges from his fingertip. “Fire witch, remember?” The flames fade to smoke.
Sabo clicks his tongue in acknowledgment, “Right,” he dawns on the coat and ignores Ace’s teasing comments about how it eats him. He doesn’t care—he’s not looking to get frostbite. “We’re looking for frost jewels, from what I’ve gathered, they’re typically embedded in the walls of the cave.”
“Okay, and how do you figure we’re gonna get them out?” Ace retorts, “I didn’t exactly bring a pickaxe.”
Sabo sighs, “The walls are ice inside, a little flame and they’ll melt. The frost jewels should be loose enough to grab. What we really need to worry about, is what lives in these caves.” Sabo zips his coat closed and exhales, it comes out fogged. Even at the entrance, the cave emits a chill. Ace is largely unaffected by it, clad in only a shirt and jorts. Sabo would feel jealous if he didn’t enjoy the sight of Ace’s calves and the muscles along his bicep and—
Okay, not right now, he thinks as he glares into the gaping mouth of the frost dungeon. “And what exactly is in there?” Ace stares blankly inside and draws the same conclusion as him. They’ll need to use Ace’s fire as a torch to navigate it.
“From my research, Winter Ghouls.”
Ace pauses, “Winter… Ghouls?” He snorts, “Wow, what a terrifying name.”
Sabo rolls his eyes and fixes a pair of gloves to his hands. “They’re decaying creatures, the cold helps preserve their body. But don’t be fooled, they’re capable of some disgusting things.” He recalls the numerous books he’d read on the subject, “Cannibalism, for one. Uh, not that we have to worry about that. Being human, and all.” Ace raises an eyebrow, “Human and witch.” Sabo amends.
“Okay, cannibalism, got it. Still not that scary.”
Ace is cute, but Sabo thinks he would’ve preferred garnering a crush on someone a little more… aware. “Yeah, well their meat-eating habits also extend to humans,” because he knows what Ace is going to say next, he adds, “and witches.”
Ace’s lips purse, “Okay, so they have a taste for flesh.” Ace remarks, “Do they at least use seasoning?”
Sabo laughs despite himself, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Ace!” He scolds, but his heart isn’t really in it.
“What? If I’m going to be mauled to death, I’d rather they have taste.”
Sabo steps closer to the entrance and flicks his hand. Ace manifests fire like it’s second nature, and it dances around his right palm. The cave brightens. It seems to narrow the farther the light extends. “Nothing I’ve read mentioned them using spices. Or any means of cooking. Sorry.” Ace sighs in acceptance. Sabo pats his shoulder and pretends that his hand doesn’t linger.
They travel farther until the cave becomes steep and they have to grab the ridges along the wall and manage their balance against the ice beneath them. “Jeez, they could at least afford some carpeting.” Sabo wonders if he ever shuts up—never mind that Ace’s voice brings him comfort.
It isn’t relevant.
“Shut up,” he hisses as he ducks below a particularly low-hanging spike of ice. The fire flickers against the cave’s uneven surfaces. The first thing Sabo comes to realise is that it smells rancid inside—the stench of decaying bodies wafts through the air and invades their nostrils. He has to spare a hand to close his nostrils, the scent twisting his stomach until he’s near throwing up.
“Hey, Blondie,” there it is, again, that stupid nickname. Sabo can’t find the energy to argue against it. “You good?” Sabo shakes his head and Ace gestures with his head, offering to go back. He shakes his head again—the promise of the coin is too good. Besides, he recalls Luffy and why Ace even agreed to join him on this quest.
He understands he’s not doing this for himself, anymore. A part of him wants to continue for Luffy’s sake—for Ace’s sake, now. He’s not sure when their goals became one.
“I’m good, Ace, just—continue.” He holds back a cough. “How—how are you even withstanding this stench?” He gags; it only seems to worsen as they descend and the temperatures take a sudden drop. The cold bites at his cheek, coloured red from the cold.
“Errand boy,” he says, pushing his fire forward to light the path ahead. “I’ve smelt smells that even the gods couldn’t imagine.” Sabo snorts, despite the situation.
The cave’s roof suddenly drops and instinctively, Sabo knows they’ve entered the dangerous territory of the dungeon. “Stay alert,” he warns as he stands straighter and thumbs the knife in his pocket. It’s the only place he has left, with the thick coat covering his belt. “I think we’re close to the jewels.”
He’s right, of course. His instincts have never failed him—well, with Ace, they have. But Ace has become the exception to most things. He clicks his knife free and keeps a firm grip on it as they scramble forward. They’re on their knees now, with how low the ceiling is and Sabo hopes he hasn’t just stumbled across one of the few dungeons that are quite literally impossible to raid.
But his luck rings true as the crawl space opens up to a room.
And then his luck falls flat on its ass. Winter Ghouls, everywhere, asleep by the looks of the slow fall of their chests. Sabo stops Ace with his hand and bobs his head in the direction of the creatures. He nods, his face set to something like determination. He leans closer, their breath intermingling and he tries not to overthink their proximity.
“So?” Ace asks, his breath hot against Sabo’s cheek. His lips are moist and Sabo wonders how they taste—okay, not the time.
“Ghouls' hearing is lacklustre, at best. But their sight—it’s extraordinary. They’re asleep, fortunately, as they’re typically nocturnal.” He tries not to think about how low the sun was when they entered. “So, we just need to sneak by and retrieve the frost jewels.” Sabo presses closer when he hears the sound of shuffling. But it stops, and he lets out a sigh of relief.
Ace is quiet beside him and when he turns to look, their noses brush together. Sabo flushes and stumbles away. “Right, uhm, so spy-like, then? Okay, I can do that. I’m totally sneaky.” Sabo doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying, but he’s unfortunately chosen Ace as his quest partner.
Sabo repositions himself so that he’s entering feet first. Ace follows after him, their steps light against the stone beneath. Sabo nearly slips, but Ace catches him with his free hand. He nods his head to the back of the cave, where the walls glimmer unnaturally and Sabo knows—the frost jewels. He moves forward, avoiding the outstretched, green limbs of the ghouls and slowly walks to where the ice wall of encompassed jewels stands proudly. Above them, the cave towers over them and makes them feel small.
Ace is quiet at his side, inspecting the sheen of glistening liquid on the wall. He moves his aflame hand closer and watches, as he intensifies the power, that the ice begins to melt. Drip, drip, it pours onto the floor until eventually, a jewel is loose enough that Sabo can pocket it. He ushers Ace to another one, mindful of a ghoul’s head below them.
The knife is gripped tight in his palm and as he peers down at the ground, he senses something amiss. They continue—it becomes second nature for Ace to melt the ice formed around a jewel and for Sabo to pull it out and store it away. His pockets feel heavy by the time he gestures for Ace to stop. He points to the entrance, set just above the floor of the cave.
Ace nods and grabs one last jewel, throwing it in the pockets of his jorts. Sabo doesn’t mention it.
They sneak past, the ground beneath them slippery. He half expects himself to trip and fall face-first into a Winter Ghoul, but they make it back to the entrance with no mishaps. It’s the smoothest a quest has ever gone in Sabo’s life and he’s immediately suspicious. “Come,” Sabo whispers as he lifts his body to climb back through the gap in the walls. They crawl forward, the ice making it difficult to ascend but with Ace’s body behind him, urging him up, he manages.
Eventually, the ceiling gives way and they’re able to stand properly. They continue, and Sabo exhales. It comes out fogged. Whether consciously or not, Ace's left-hand finds his gloved one and they entangle together. Sabo doesn’t comment on it and neither does Ace. The mouth of the cave is just before them, Sabo can just make out the shapes of their bags. They rush forward and he wants to laugh; this is the first time he’s leaving a dungeon with no new scars!
“Holy shit,” Ace says, “I thought we were going to wake them.” It’s night now, which Sabo supposes makes sense. They had been there for at least three hours.
“Looks like you're not ghoul food just yet,” Sabo remarks, grinning at his partner. Ace laughs, and it’s free and joy-filled. Sabo wants to hear it for as long as he breathes. He stays silent.
“I’m a professional, now!” Ace exclaims.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself—” a screech interrupts them. Sabo stumbles away, as does Ace. At the mouth of the cave, is their worst nightmare. A Winter Ghoul, stares at them, black eyes and ivory skin tinted a muddy green. It’s skinny, with gaudy cheeks and a slithering tongue. It hisses and Ace’s flames flicker across its features. The teeth are razor sharp, prime for tearing through flesh.
Sabo gulps. “Ace,” he hoists his knife higher and it's then that more glaring, black eyes reflect at them amid the shadows. “Get ready.”
When he spares a glance over at his partner, he finds that his features are hard with resolve and that he’s inching closer to Sabo. “Their asses are mine.” Sabo tries not to roll his eyes at the weak barb.
One of them flings themself at Ace but Sabo doesn’t get a chance to look—another is already bursting into the air like a frog and shoving him to the floor. Its jaw unhinges and snaps at Sabo’s face and he tries not to throw up at the smell of it so close to him. The teeth of the creature brush against his nose just as he thrusts his knife in the abdomen of it. It falls on him a minute later and he shoves the body off him.
Another ghoul replaces it until eventually, he has five of them on him at all times. They’re taking turns jumping him—playing with their food, he recalls reading. Shit, Sabo thinks and he dodges the claws of one of them and the teeth of another. He—a jab of his knife into their jugular—really—a kick to their head—hates—a bite to his arm—his—his knife stabs one of their eyes—job.
They fall like dominoes and in between the breaks he gets as one drops and another prepares to launch themselves at him, he catches sight of Ace. Ace is brawling, as he manifests fire around him. It arches like a wave and swallows the ghouls until they screech and cry—he thinks, if they could talk, they’d be pleading.
It’s a mistake, to watch Ace, because the next second one is jumping him and manages a lucky bite against his calf. He tumbles down as the pain overtakes him, “Shit!” He cries out as he wildly swings his knife at the perpetrator. The ghoul dances out of the way and stalks him. They’ve brought down their dinner.
Sabo tries to stand, really he does. But his leg gives out from under him and he stumbles. He hears a panicked scream from Ace and wonders if they got him too—and it had been going so well.
He sends a silent apology to Luffy, for killing his brother.
A burst of flames whizzes by his ear and he winces away. The heat is searing and he watches as it eviscerates the ghoul in front of him. Ace follows the fire as he takes Sabo’s knife from his loose grip and propels it into the forehead of another ghoul. Sabo watches, dazed and mesmerised—it’s grotesque, watching Ace dismember and kill the Winter Ghouls, but all he can think about is the way the fire—his power, dances with his movements.
It reminds him of the arena, where he had first watched Ace dance like the fire wasn’t an element by itself but an extension of him.
The fire contorts into tendrils of flames as they stab the hearts of ghouls and burn their eyes. Ace cremates the ghouls before Sabo’s eyes.
Sabo thinks he’s falling in love, maybe. Or the pain is making him delirious.
It’s over as quickly as it started and Ace whirls on him, dropping to his knees to inspect Sabo. “Shit, ‘Bo, are you okay?” He’s fretting over the bite along his left forearm, but it only takes him a second to notice the bleeding wound on his calf. “Shit, shit—okay, uh. I’m not a medic. But I can fix this, okay?” Sabo feels like laughing. Okay, yeah, he’s delirious.
“Shut up,” he says, the pain beginning to spread through his body and he groans in protest of it. “Look in my bag, I have—” he gags, the stench of the corpses finally catching up to him. “Stuff.”
“Stuff,” Ace repeats dubiously. Sabo levels a glare at him and Ace rushes to search through his bag until he opts to drag it to Sabo. “Alright, what am I looking for exactly?”
“First aid,” Sabo hisses, the aches of his calf starting to burn. “There should be a vial, uhm purple? Maybe, magenta. Or pink, I don’t know. I never figured out the colour—” he’s rambling now but Ace is following his instructions as he pulls out a red bag with a white cross. He rummages through it until he produces a vial, “Right, that. Yeah, that’s it.” Sabo pants, “Good job.” He slurs, attempting to lift his body but finds that his arms give out from under him.
“What’s wrong?” Ace leans forward, the vial clasped tightly in his hand. “It’s just a bite—a bad one, yeah… is it the blood loss?” Sabo wants to slap him, or maybe kiss him. He can’t decide.
“Ace, I need to drink that.”
“Oh! Right, yeah. Of course.” He pops the cork and lets it fall to the grass as he bends down and adjusts Sabo’s head so he’s resting in his lap. He pokes at Sabo’s mouth until he opens it and pours the sweet nectar down his throat. He sputters as it burns, but it does the job. “What does this do?”
“Mostly, it numbs the pain and acts as a sort of adrenaline,” Sabo says, finding enough strength to lift his body from Ace’s lap and sit. Blood is still pooling from his wound. “I need these bandaged, pass me some gauze.” They sit like that, for minutes or maybe hours. Ace helps him clean the wound and wraps the gauze so it slows the bleeding.
“You’ll need stitches,” Ace says and Sabo nods.
“I know, I know. Just—uh, not here. The smell is too much.” Ace’s brow furrows but he nods. He makes a decision and stands up and hangs both bags on his shoulders. He returns to Sabo and promptly lifts him into a bridal carry. “Ace—”
Ace shushes him, with a smirk, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell,” Sabo groans and ducks his head where the shoulder meets the neck, flushed from embarrassment. He’s too tired to give thought to the situation, but he understands how mortifying it is to be carried like a princess; he stays quiet.
“You can’t carry me the entire way.” He murmurs as they leave the mouth of the dungeon, the cave fading into the background. He can still feel the jewels as they weigh heavy in his pockets.
“No, I can’t,” Ace concedes, “but I can carry you to a campsite.” Sabo frowns but doesn’t disagree. He knows he’s virtually useless until his leg is stitched and that Ace is correct; he shouldn’t be bothering the injury until he can properly close it.
He sighs, “You’re not hurt, right?” Ace laughs, his shoulders shaking with the sound.
“Nah, turns out Winter Ghouls are about as useful as a butter knife against concrete when it comes to the element of fire.” Sabo snorts.
“That would do it,” he thinks of the charred bodies they left behind. “I suppose I made the right decision in finding a partner, huh?” He feels drowsy; exhausted. He curls closer to Ace, who is practically a walking heater. The sky is dark above them and it luls him to a fitful slumber.
When he awakes it is to the crackle of flames and Ace’s heat at his side. “Morning,” he greets, sounding tired. Sabo smiles, a small thing.
“My leg?” Sabo asks, after a brief moment of silence.
“You slept through it. Knocked right out. It’s all stitched.” Sabo moves to look but Ace pushes him back to his sleeping bag. “Hey, don’t move too much. Don’t worry, I’m not totally useless. Luffy gets hurt a lot, so I had to learn to stitch. Unless I wanted a shitload of medical bills.”
Sabo nods, accepting. He watches the fire, how it flickers; he wonders if it’s in tandem with the drum of Ace’s heart.
“Thanks,” Sabo croaks, “for saving me back there. You didn’t have to.”
Ace scoffs, “Didn’t have to, my ass.” His fingers wave through the fire and it expands, burning warmer. Sabo doesn’t feel remotely threatened. “We’re partners, aren’t we?”
“For as long as it takes us to get back, yeah. I guess.” The comment dimmers the mood.
“Negative Nancy, much?” He can practically hear Ace’s frown. “Look—” Ace stops himself, and when Sabo peers up, he finds that he can’t read Ace’s expression. “I know the ending was shitty, but everything before—I, I really liked it. Going on this quest with you, I mean.”
Sabo grins, closing his eyes. The sun is peeking through the gaps in the leaves, and he feels free beneath its gaze, with Ace by his side.
“I did too, for what it’s worth.” The words feel empty to him. He knows what happens after. Sabo leaves, and moves on—and Ace forgets about him. He uses the coin to put Luffy through school and—
“Right, good. That’s great, yeah.” Ace is stammering now, talking before he’s thinking. Sabo wonders what’s on his mind. “I enjoyed this. And if you’d have me, I think I’d want to join you more.”
Sabo lets out a small gasp. “Ace?”
“‘Bo—I mean, Sabo, just listen, okay?” Ace exhales, shoulders slumping with the action. He glares at the flickering fire in front of him. It wilts from his scowl. “I didn’t think about the outside of Windmill Village, I guess. I was too busy to wonder what exists outside of the small world I lived in.” His nose wrinkles, “And ever since I could, walk, talk—it’s always been about protecting Luffy. That's all I’ve known.” Ace fidgets with his hands, “But travelling with you has been different—a nice different.”
Sabo smiles, “Ace, I get it.” He does. He enjoyed the company along the trip into the forest and down to the mountains. He would’ve died by himself, certainly.
“No, Blondie, you don’t.” Ace turns to look down at him, then. “I don’t want to just continue going on quests for the sake of the adrenaline high—I want to do it with you.” Ace breathes through clenched teeth, “I want to do it at your side; it feels right, like that.”
“How so?” Sabo prods, breath hitching the more Ace talked.
“Shit, I don’t know, ‘Bo, I’m not good at this crap… feelings aren't my forte. I just know that you feel like a missing puzzle piece, and I—I want you with me.” Ace flushes red like a cherry and adverts his gaze. “Which is stupid—I know, two weeks hardly means anything in the grand scheme of things. But, it’s the most fun I’ve had in years.”
Sabo lifts his non-injured hand and reaches for Ace’s, entangling them like they did in the dungeon. It feels right—as Ace had described, like a missing puzzle piece. It’s cheesy, yet Sabo is enamoured. “I wouldn’t mind you at my side, either.” He says, watching as Ace’s lips work around silent words.
“Okay, okay—great. That’s good.” Ace jerks his head in a nod, “We’re on the same page, then.”
“Are we?” Sabo asks, squeezing Ace’s hand. “Ace, I want to try this.” His grip tightens and instinctively, Sabo returns the hold. It feels like an answer, already, yet Ace speaks.
“I’d like that,” Ace mutters. The fire crackles at their side and it’s soothing because it sings like Ace’s heart—erratic and upbeat. Like the songs from the tavern, boisterous and thriving. Like Ace.
The walk back to Windmill village is disastrous, with Sabo having to take numerous breaks. It takes them a total of nearly two weeks to walk back. And a month in total to complete the quest. When they return to civilization, it’s as though nothing has changed. Even though everything has seemingly changed for Sabo and Ace.
They continue like everything is normal when it’s decidedly not. They stop by the client’s house, and exchange the frost jewels for their coin and split it as agreed. Sabo spares a few more coin Ace’s way to ensure he has enough for Luffy's schooling—Ace doesn’t mention it.
When they’re paid their due, they return to the tavern and are promptly bombarded by Luffy. He’s sobbing as he embraces Ace in a bone-crushing hug: “Ace!” He cries out and Ace relaxes into the hold. “You were gone so long!”
“Got distracted, sorry,” Ace says, brushing Luffy’s hair back from his face. “But hey, I brought you back something. He rifles through his pockets and pulls out a spare frost jewel. “Straight from the frost dungeon. Had to kill a couple of Winter Ghouls to get this.”
“Winter Ghouls? That’s a lame name.” Luffy takes the gift and treats it as the treasure it is. “Awesome, my first pirate loot!”
“That’s what I said—” Ace says but is rudely interrupted by Sabo.
“Pirate loot?”
Luffy hums, distractedly, “Yeah, it was stolen, so it’s pirate loot, right?” Sabo doesn’t bother to correct him. He’s a lost cause, like his brother. Luffy rushes back into the tavern, waving his treasure in the air so that Shakky might catch sight of it. She does and a conversation sparks up between the pair, but Shakky’s gaze lingers on them, occasionally.
Ace drags Sabo out of the tavern, “I know you have to pack up—”
Sabo rolls his eyes, “Didn’t we discuss this?”
“Yeah, but where will you stay—” Ace’s lips thin into a line, “I can’t force you to stay; that’s selfish.”
Sabo laughs, “Don’t pretend to be a selfless hero, now.” Ace opens his mouth to retort but Sabo promptly shuts him up with a peck to his lips. It’s brisk, but Sabo has a lingering feeling that Luffy’s about to burst from those doors and he’s not looking to be there for that conversation. “I’ll find a place to stay. We’ll figure it out, for now… get Luffy signed up, and we’ll talk, ‘kay?” Sabo’s tired from a month's worth of travel and wants nothing more than to pass out in an actual bed.
He shivers at just the thought of it.
“Alright, yeah.” Ace relents and pulls away, but just as quick as a hare, he places a kiss against Sabo’s lips and leaves within the blink of an eye. Sabo chuckles dryly, watching Ace’s retreating back.
“Tell Shakky I’ll be by later?” Ace waves his hand in acknowledgment, “Oh! And make sure to tell Luffy we’re going out for dinner,” Sabo peers up at the sky and makes a swift estimate of the time. “At, maybe, seven? Scratch that, eight, I need a shower.”
Ace turns to him and laughs, “Yeah, you reek of ghouls, Blondie.”
“I hope you know that name isn’t sticking—”
“Too late, it’s already left an impression on me.” The door slams shut on Sabo, and he mulls over the thought of storming inside and murdering the man himself. He opts for a shower first. Revenge later, when he’s in charge of ordering Ace’s food.