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Ace nearly trips over his own two feet when he spots Law lurking in the shadows of the Moby Dick’s deck.
“The hell are you doin’ here?” he hisses, spinning around to make sure no one else is awake to see the idiot trespassing on a damn Yonko’s ship like it’s a casual afternoon stroll. “You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
Law just grins, the kind of slow, lazy smirk that always makes Ace’s stomach flip, hands stuffed in his pockets like he hasn’t just committed a crime. “I wanted to see you, of course.”
Ace gapes at him, entirely thrown, because yeah, okay, he and Law have been sort of—together? Dating? Whatever you call it when you end up tangled together more often than not, when you steal away moments between fights and feasts just to be close. But this? Sneaking onto the Moby Dick in the dead of night just to see him?
"You’re a lunatic," Ace mutters, grabbing Law’s wrist before he can get himself caught. "C’mon, before someone sees your dumbass and I gotta explain why my boyfriend’s sneakin’ around like a fuckin’ creep."
Law chuckles, letting himself be dragged along, his fingers curling around Ace’s as they make a break for his cabin. The hallway’s dark, only dim lanterns swaying with the roll of the ship, and Ace is half laughing, half panicking as they stumble through it, bumping into walls, into each other, shushing each other between grins.
“Y’know,” Law murmurs, mouth brushing against Ace’s jaw as they fumble with the door, “for someone so worried about getting caught, you’re not being very subtle.”
Ace’s breath stutters, his fingers slipping against the doorknob as Law presses closer, his smirk evident even in the dim light. “Shut up,” he grumbles, cheeks warm, and finally—finally—gets the damn door open.
They tumble inside, the door slamming shut behind them, and Law barely has time to laugh before Ace is on him, shoving him back against it.
"You’re the worst," Ace mutters, grinning as he kisses him, quick and eager, fingers threading into Law’s hair.
Law hums, arms winding around Ace’s waist, pulling him in like he belongs there. "You’re the one keeping me around," he murmurs against his lips, and Ace has the audacity to feel his heart stutter at that, at the way Law says it so easy, like he’s never once doubted it.
Ace doesn’t have an answer for that, so he kisses him again, soft and slow this time, hands falling slightly and fisting in the fabric of Law’s coat. Law sighs against his mouth, his fingers warm where they press against Ace’s spine, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist.
“You’re crazy,” Ace mumbles, pressing a kiss to Law’s cheek, his jaw, down the side of his neck, punctuating each one with another, softer, warmer. "Snuck onto my ship just ‘cause you missed me?"
Law huffs a laugh, tilting his head back, letting Ace do whatever he wants. "Mm," he murmurs, pulling Ace even closer, "so you admit you missed me too?"
Ace doesn't have time to respond before Law is deepening the kiss, tilting his head just right, pressing in until Ace is breathless. His fingers tangle furhter in the fabric of Law’s coat, then slide up into his hair, tugging just enough to make Law groan into the kiss, low and pleased.
“Goddamn,” Ace murmurs against his lips, dazed and grinning, “you really—”
Law swallows the rest of his words, nudging him backward step by step until the backs of Ace’s knees hit the bed. Without thinking, Ace grabs at Law’s coat and pulls, dragging them both down in a messy tangle of limbs.
Law lands half on top of him with a quiet “oof,” but neither of them seem to mind. Ace is laughing, breathless and flushed, and Law is already kissing his way down his throat, the weight of him pressing Ace into the mattress in a way that makes his head spin.
Ace lets his legs fall open just enough to let Law settle between them, his hands slipping under his coat, fingers teasing against bare skin, and Law groans into his neck, biting down just a little—
BANG BANG BANG.
“Ace! I got someone to cover my night shift, lemme in, I wanna sleep!”
Ace freezes.
Law groans, forehead dropping to Ace’s collarbone like he’s actually in physical pain.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Ace hisses, shoving at Law’s shoulders. “Get off, get off, get—”
Law lifts his head, face hovering inches from Ace’s, and he looks annoyingly calm for someone who was seconds away from tearing Ace’s clothes off.
“Babe,” he says, smooth but no less annoyed despite what his face said, like they’re not in the middle of a crisis. “I can literally teleport myself.”
Ace stares at him.
Law raises a brow. “Do you want me to?”
Another bang on the door, followed by a grumpy, “Ace, are you dead in there?”
Ace scrambles, smacks Law’s chest, and Law just disappears, gone in an instant. Ace barely has time to catch his breath before Deuce bangs one last time, and Ace nearly trips over himself getting to the door.
He yanks it open, doing his best to look as normal as possible (which is to say, failing miserably). “Uh—hey! Yeah! Yeah, sorry, was, uh, sleepin’.”
Deuce squints at him, clearly not buying it. “Right. And you just happened to take two minutes to answer?”
Ace shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck, feeling way too hot. “I sleep heavy?”
Deuce steps inside, looking around suspiciously. His eyes linger on the bed, the blankets messy and rumpled, Ace’s coat half on the floor. He frowns, looking back at Ace.
“…Were you jerking off?”
Ace chokes. “What?!—NO—DUDE—”
Deuce holds up his hands. “Okay! Okay! Just… weird vibe in here.” He eyes the room again, shrugs, and flops onto his bed with a sigh.
Ace stands there, frozen, sweating bullets, until Deuce waves a lazy hand. “Go to bed, man, I’m too tired for your weird energy.”
Ace nods, too fast, and all but collapses onto the opposite side. He buries his face into his pillow, groaning into it, willing himself to just sleep before he digs himself any deeper.
-
Law is in a foul mood the next morning.
The kind of mood where his own crew actively avoids crossing his path, where Bepo—the most patient, sweet-natured being in existence—keeps a careful distance, and where the air itself seems to crackle with barely restrained irritation.
The reason? Deuce.
Deuce, who had the audacity to exist.
Deuce, who had pounded on Ace’s door at the worst possible moment, demanding his right to sleep in Ace’s bed like he belonged there.
Deuce, who had unknowingly cockblocked him in the most catastrophic way possible.
Law’s eye twitches as he paces the main area of the Polar Tang, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The violent, looping images in his mind are, perhaps, excessive. Perhaps. But he’s operating on a night of restless, frustrating, blueballed, sleepless misery, so frankly, he thinks he’s entitled to some indulgence.
If Deuce were to, say, slip on the deck of the Moby Dick and fall headfirst into the sea, never to be seen again? That would be a tragic accident.
If Deuce were to suffer a completely inexplicable allergic reaction to a food he had no known allergies to and drop dead in the middle of a meal? Devastating.
If Deuce were to spontaneously combust in his sleep—
"Captain," Shachi’s voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, "you good?"
Law lifts his head and glares at him.
Shachi lifts his hands in surrender. “Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“More like didn’t get into bed at all,” Penguin mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Law to hear.
Law’s eye twitches again.
Bepo, ever the peacekeeper, steps in with a cautious, “Captain, would you like some tea? It might help.”
Law exhales slowly through his nose, running a hand down his face. Killing Deuce isn’t an option. He knows that. He knows that.
Doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.
“…Fine,” he mutters, and follows Bepo inside, doing his best to smother his increasingly unhinged fantasies of Deuce’s untimely demise.