Pairing: Ace/Marco
Notes: Based on a tumblr post by apharthurkirklands and denmarkswag and also amazing art by flaggermousse on colour soulmates AU. Everything is colourless until you meet your soulmate and when your soulmate dies, your world returns to colourless.

Title is from Laura Marling's Pray for me. And I promise that, while this follows canon completely, it will have a happy ending. And by happy I mean both of them will be alive and together and no sadness in the final chapter.

I had to do a Marco/Ace version because they're perfect for it. I would like to thank lunarshores for betaing this for me too, I always need help when I write in this tense. Thank you so much!

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The darkness is a simple fact of life, but Ace hates it. He hates the greys and the blacks that push against his chest, crushing him, reminding him that he's dirty and hated. There are pale greys in this world, but they turn away from Ace, the darker colours swarming him.

He wants to know what the colour green is. Ace wants to know how complex the sea is and what exactly the waves do as they smash down onto the shore. He wants to know if his blood is red like normal people's or if the demon blood in his veins runs black, tainted like his soul.

Luffy comes into his life, and Ace hates him. He hates the boy who seems to adore him and ignores him, scorns him, even when the names of colours spill from Luffy's lips. Ace questions him later, when Luffy's one of them, at their side as their little brother, and Luffy admits he's been able to see colours for a long time. So long, he says, that he's forgotten how dark the world can be.

Ace and Sabo have no idea how Luffy came to see colours. No one should see colours, and they joke that Luffy's soul mate is the old woman who sometimes gives them little sweets when they sneak into her bakery. It isn't her – of course – but they have no idea who it could be and neither does Luffy. He's unconcerned with his ability, but Ace and Sabo waste no time in asking him about colours.

"Blue is… blue…" Luffy mumbles to their questions, entirely useless at describing. "I don't know. It's blue!" He shakes his head and runs off to try and catch a handful of birds. He'll only play with them before letting them go, maybe snatch a few feathers from them and bring them back to point out colours to Sabo and Ace.

That night, though, Luffy lies between him and Sabo in their home, voice muffled by the onset of sleep.

"All of our blood is the same," Luffy mumbles, wiggling his fingers as he makes sure he's holding both Ace and Sabo.

The tightness in Ace's chest lifts a little, and he moves closer to Luffy, despite the heat under the blankets. He ignores Sabo's soft smile by burrowing under the covers, closing his eyes and allowing himself to smile.

But while he knows the colours, knows the sky is blue, grass is green and the sea is something between the two, Ace doesn't understand them. What is blue? What is green? It is all grey to him, a colour he hates almost as much as his father.

When Sabo dies, they stop naming colours of things. Luffy's lips seal, and Ace doesn't try to pry an answer from him. Ace stops trying to map this island, so he'll know where he grew up when he finds his soulmate. They grow up and while the world may not have colour, the darkness keeps at bay when Luffy's at his side.

When his time comes to set sail on the mass of grey that is the sea, Luffy speaks of colours. He tells him his hat matches Dadan's hair and the beads around his neck are the colour of blood – of their blood. He tells Ace that the sea is brighter, happy to accept another child onto its waves, and Ace sets off with high hopes.

His crew are good. Some can see colours, some can't, but that doesn't matter to Ace. They have moments of confusion where one cannot describe something properly, but they pull out of it quickly and it isn't long before they begin securing devil fruits, one in particular that Ace eats himself.

He knows from Luffy that fire is yellow and orange, but he also knows it can be white and it can be blue. Ace wonders what his fire is, whether it has the tiny blue in it at all, and spends nights watching his fire keep the darkness at bay, the entire world lighting up at his fingertips.

The World Government nips at Ace's heels as he gains power. They want him for their own, but Ace will never sell himself to the Shichibukai. He laughs at the offer with his crew, tearing the pale paper in two and throwing into the dark sea. Let the sea kings take it.

When Ace announces he wants to embark on a nearby island, his crew look at him in worry. The Yonko Akagami is there, they whisper, wondering exactly what Ace's plan is. He explains and they steer their ship to the cold island. Ace goes alone, stomping through the snow to be met with hostile men.

They do take him to Akagami, and Ace feels his beads against his collarbone. They're the same colour as Shanks' hair, the colour of the blood that runs through his and Luffy's veins. He has to be an audacious man, to name himself with a colour, though Ace knew that anyway. He's here to thank this man, and he does, from the bottom of his heart.

They drink, and they feast and then they drink some more. Ace doesn't think he's ever laughed as hard as he does that night, and he thinks that such a massive crew is nice. Perhaps one day he'll amount enough people to have what Shanks has, or perhaps not. Ace doesn't have a set goal, other than to surpass his father.

Ace decides he needs to take Whitebeard's head. His father never could, so Ace will. His crew follow him, though Ace isn't sure they know his true intention. That doesn't matter though, and he ends up meeting Jinbe on his search.

Desperation floods Ace as he fights Jinbe. The darkness pushes in, and he refuses to give up. Jinbe is strong, though, and it takes them five days to succumb to human needs, both collapsing to the floor in exhausted messes. Ace doesn't expect for Whitebeard to show when he does, and he uses all of his remaining strength to get his nakama to safety. He'll deal with the giant of a man before him.

Of course, Ace isn't enough for Whitebeard, and he wakes up in a room that clearly isn't on his own ship. He has no idea what has become of his ship – or his nakama – and worry grips Ace's stomach, the darkness threatening to close in on him and drag him down.

Stumbling out of the room that holds him, Ace wanders through the maze of what can only be the Moby Dick. He meets no one and eventually finds a door, leading to the back of the ship. Ace can see the sea and knows that land is far behind. His ship and his former life are gone, torn away as easily as he tore up the Government's summons.

"He's here!" a voice calls, and it's a familiar voice. One of his nakama runs over to him, taking Ace gently by his arm. They're wearing a bandana printed with Whitebeard's mark and Ace keeps quiet as he's lead to the captain.

His blood itches under his skin. It calls for Whitebeard's head, for his position of power to be toppled and for his world to succumb to darkness forevermore.

"You are one of my sons," Whitebeard says, and Ace lashes out. Hands pull him back, and Ace turns in a full circle, glaring at the tens of people gathered.

Something peculiar happens when Ace returns his gaze to Whitebeard. His moustache lightens, and Ace can hardly believe it. The greys from his world fade, and Ace wants to cry right there and then.

"No," he whispers, every ounce of strength in his body refusing to let his knees buckle. "No."

"Oh?" Whitebeard says, his coat – in colours Ace doesn't even know the name of, but they aren't grey, never were grey – swaying as he leans forward. Let him think the no was for his offer. Ace is no son of his; he needs no father.

Ace doesn't wait for Whitebeard to continue, and no one stops him. Ace knows he has to stay on this ship to protect his nakama, and he'll do just that. He'll take Whitebeard's head too and end this era. Ace will be greater than Roger ever was.

Ace tries to find where he'd woken up, but settles instead to wander through the ship. Anyone he meets he glares at, and they pass quickly. He is distracted, though, and Ace finds himself marvelling at the wooden panels of the ship. He'd never thought they'd be this odd, dark colour. It's far from grey, and Ace remembers Luffy telling him about wood.

The colour is brown. It's the colour of mud and of dirt, of wood and the essence of nature. Shit is also mostly brown, Luffy had informed him many times, and Ace fights to catch his breath for a moment. Colour is amazing and he scrabbles for the red at his neck, tears filling up his eyes as he sets eyes on his necklace.

The colour red is bright and bold. It is striking and everything Ace could possibly love. His heart lurches in his chest as he thinks of the same colour running through his body, and Ace lets himself lean against the wall, relief coursing through his body.

"Do you need help getting back to your room?" a voice asks and Ace reacts, instinct letting flames flare from his skin. The man who had spoken is a placid-looking man, with bright hair and light eyes.

He looks utterly bored with Ace and the fire.

The flames between them are different to what Ace has imagined. He frowns at them, unsure exactly what is off with his fire. He gets his answer almost instantly as the man pulls his arm away, flames dying down against his skin, delicate and definitely different from Ace's.

A colour that is warm in the same way as red, but lighter flows through Ace's fire. It is accompanied by what has to be yellow, and Ace wants to watch his fire for the rest of the night. It is comforting, exhilarating even more than it had been when it was monotonous, but there is the problem of the man with the strange flames.

"I don't need your help," Ace hisses. He wants to explore the world that has just opened up to him. He doesn't want to think of Whitebeard or what it really means to be on this stupid ship. Just for a few hours, Ace wants to run through everything Luffy has ever told him about colours, and he wants to be free of the darkness.

"You don't have a choice," the man says, and that's how it's to be then. Ace lets him lead, and he shuts the door in the man's face, eyes raking through his room eagerly. He is searching for colours, the ones he might be able to guess and the ones he doesn't know.

The man outside enters, and Ace spins on his heel. He is furious, but the man waves his anger off with a cascade of dark flames. Nothing seems to faze him, and Ace wonders who this stranger is.

"You'll find some books in the cabinet over there," the man says, pointing lazily to a small cabinet, next to the wardrobe. Ace will never fill that wardrobe. He'll have Whitebeard's head before then.

"Kitchens are open all day for whatever meal you want. Well, within reason." The man raises an eyebrow as Ace turns away from him. He has none of his personal belongings, and he hates to think of what became of his ship.

"The books will be of interest to you. If you need anything, just ask for Marco." The man nods, leaving Ace alone at last, and Ace wonders how he has managed to overlook the man's identity.

Marco the Phoenix, the first division commander. A man who has the power of regeneration and whose flames burnt with the colour of the skies. Blue, then, was Marco's flame. The colour of freedom, the opposite to Ace's orange and yellow, a colour that Ace will love as much as he loves red.

There isn't much in the room other than brown and white, so Ace turns to the cabinet, hoping that there will be books with pictures. There is only one book, a small, thick thing that has dog-eared pages and looks as though it is about to fall apart. Ace squints as he reads the title, carrying the book to his bed carefully and opening it eagerly.

It is a colour book. Ace has heard of them, but never seen the point in them – until now. They have hundreds of colours (or so it seems to Ace), page after page. Ace reads the book hungrily, filling in the greys of his memory with excitement. He knows what colour violets are and what colour a fox is. He knows now that bread is similar to the inside of a tree and that green comes in so many shades.
He skips meals, something Ace has never done unless he had fallen on hard times. He finishes the book once and then starts again straight away, eager to learn all of the colours before he ventures from his room tomorrow.

Ace hasn't put much thought to it and likely won't, but his ability to see the colours isn't a random event. Somewhere on this ship is his soulmate. They will have awoken in the same way, and Ace knows he has to behave as if he's always seen colours if he wants to avoid being trapped here forever. If he can bluff his way through well enough, Ace will be able to convince the member of Whitebeard's crew that there's someone else – that it can't be Ace.

Ace doesn't want a soulmate. He doesn't want a lover; he doesn't need a lover. He'll never have a child, never allow for his demon soul to consume another, and doesn't long for pleasures, not when his core is tainted with so much sin. His needs can be served by his hand; Ace has no need for any companionship whatsoever.

It takes a few days, but Ace settles into a routine. He'll train in a small room overlooking the sea until sweat pours off of him. He hates having to use the Whitebeard Pirates' facilities, but they're stupid enough to let him train so he has to. Killing Whitebeard is proving to be a challenge, and Ace needs to stay in peak condition.

He checks on his nakama every now and then, making sure they're not threatened. They all notice the change in Ace, but none of them can comment on what it is. He offers no explanation, and they go their separate ways. Ace fetches food and takes it back to his room when he can, though he often goes hungry. He'll not accept charity, and he will fight for everything on this ship.

Whitebeard is an immovable mountain. He doesn't die, no matter what Ace tries, and he toys with Ace as if he is a child. He laughs openly, lovingly, and is always affectionate when he deals with Ace, more patient than anyone Ace has ever known.

And despite his conviction, despite the darkness snapping at his heels and the world closing in around him, Ace enjoys Whitebeard's kindness. If he can afford to, staying and becoming one of his sons would be nice, but Ace can't afford to. He is a demon child, someone who shouldn't exist. He has to prove them all wrong.

There is another, though. Ace notices Marco a lot more, always out of the corner of his eye. Marco never looks away, never acts ashamed – for he isn't. He's there to stop Ace if the time comes for it, and Ace knows Marco will not hesitate.

Of course, when an ultimatum is delivered, it is Marco who deals it. He stands on the deep brown deck beside Ace, placing a cream coloured bowl on the floor. Soup is inside, orange carrots peeking through the broth. Ace's stomach cries out for the food, but he buries his head in his arms instead. He knows Marco is right, and he knows he has to make a choice, but how can he?

If Ace stays, he has to accept a father. If Ace stays, he has to reveal his past. If Ace stays, he has to be around his soulmate.

The choice comes to him, and Ace slips through the celebrations in a daze. He is happier than he ever has been, happier than when he'd spent time with Shanks even. Everyone is so warm, and it feels as though Ace's eyes have been opened once again – though this time to love and friendship, not to colours.

"Ace!" a voice calls, and Ace looks at Thatch, taking the offered tankard of rum from him happily. He doesn't need the rum, but it'll be good for his chest. Or something.

"We're trying to guess when Marco started seeing colours," Thatch says, looping an arm around Ace's shoulders. Some of his drink spills onto Ace's shoulder, but he doesn't care. He leans into Thatch, trusting someone he wouldn't have hesitated to attack not too long ago.

"Why him?" Ace can't help but ask. He knows Marco is old, so old he might as well be ageless. No one knows exactly how old, but they all know that Marco has always been at Whitebeard's side, before any of them.

"He's the only one we haven't been able to figure out," Thatch answers easily. "Aside from you. When were you able to see?"

Ace's eyes widen, and he slips free of Thatch's arm.

"Oh, a while now," he hurries out. "A few months before I met you."

It is a lie, but Thatch accepts it, and they join the small circle. Everyone is directing questions to Marco, who looks as though he would like nothing more than to be thrown overboard, phoenix powers and all.

"None of you will ever guess it," he says, eyes narrowing as he sets them on Ace, rooting him in place. "So give up and leave me alone."

That just seems to spurn everyone on even more, and Ace watches as the questions become more intricate, unravelling a web of Marco's life aboard the Moby Dick. Marco is clever though, and he slips through openings and tight crevices, dodging questions in a way that shows experience. They'll never get an answer from Marco.

Ace settles into life, but there is still the darkness that threatens him. It whispers to him at night, when colours are muted, and Ace fears he'll slip into greys once more. He isn't truthful, is far from righteous, and he is a demon's son.

Whitebeard watches him carefully as Ace goes to him. He is gentle and waits until Ace has said his piece, tilting his head back in amusement. With simple words, he soothes Ace's sores and washes the darkness away. It isn't enough to purify him (nothing could be), but there isn't an ocean lapping against Ace anymore.

His life changes once again as Ace finds himself heading the second division. Marco is the one who take him under his wing, directing him on what to do. That side of things is boring, but Ace does get to observe Marco, and he finds himself wondering.

Ace doesn't hold stock in the soulmates thing, but life this way means everyone is curious. Everyone wants to know who and when, and Ace is no exception. He finds himself wanting to know what kind of person opened Marco's eyes and where they are now.

Can Marco even see colour? Ace has assumed that someone who has lived as long and vast as Marco has can see colour, but how can he be sure? There are people who Marco might never meet, or his partner may have died long ago without them meeting.

And if he can see colour, where is his soulmate? Not everyone's soulmate is a good person. People lie, people cheat, and people hurt. It is rare, but Ace has heard tales of someone running from a soulmate to protect themselves.

Love isn't simple.

He still wants to know Marco's story. He wants to know if his world is grey or if he can see the blue fire licking at his skin when he uses his powers. Ace wants to know if Marco can see the glimmer of life in the red of their blood, and he wants to know what no one else knows.

It's late one night, and Marco's checking his paperwork. The second division are in charge of the weaponry supplies, and so Ace's paperwork has to be flawless or they could find themselves in a sticky situation. Marco has corrected a few errors, and they're sharing a bottle of sake between them. Marco's saying something about tomorrow's breakfast, but Ace isn't thinking of food.

"Can you see colour?" he says, staring Marco in the eye. Marco places the papers he's been checking down on the table, eyes locked calmly with Ace's.

"Everyone's so obsessed with finding out when you started to see colour, but I wonder if you can at all." It's a challenge he hopes Marco won't just brush off. He wants to know what kind of person Marco is, wants to know things about him even his other nakama don't.

Ace isn't entirely sure why.

Marco doesn't back down from the challenge. He turns in his chair so that he can face Ace properly and relaxes. He looks comfortable, very comfortable, and there's a warm feeling in Ace's heart that niggles at him. He has all of Marco's attention, and he wants to keep it.

"I can," Marco says, offering no more. His voice is steady, betraying nothing, and Ace knows that his lone question will not settle his curiosity.

"You must have seen a lot in your life then," Ace says, thinking to himself how he can find out more. He's never been too concerned with learning about peoples' soulmates until now. It's just Marco. Only Marco.

"I have been without colour for most of my life," Marco says conversationally, a slight upturn to his lips. He's interested, perhaps as curious as Ace is. "I never thought it was a problem, and I was happy without colour."

Ace doesn't understand that, and he frowns. How could anyone make peace with the haunting greys and the encroaching darkness. Ace never wants to return to that life.

"Perhaps you don't understand," Marco says softly, leaning forwards. His elbow rests on the table, and he pours himself another drink, downing it swiftly. It's not how he's supposed to drink, and Ace wonders if he'll like what he'll hear.

"My devil fruit guarantees life. There are circumstances, of course, but if I plod along in a threat-free life, I have no idea when I'll die. I've lived a long, long time as I am now, and I doubt I am going to live forever, but… I will most definitely outlive everyone on this ship, probably tenfold." His words are uncomfortable, for Ace cannot imagine living for so long with his damned soul, yet he knows it's what's to come that is the killer.

"A life with colour means that I have met the person I am to love," Marco says. "And I know my world will fade to grey once again. I know I will have to watch the person I love die."

Ace is silent. He wants to reach out and take Marco's hand, but how can he? Marco has met his fate, even if he's running from it. His world will turn grey once more, but this time it will be tainted. Marco will know the colour of everything, but be blind to it. He may find another – as some do – and his world may burst into vibrancy once again, but knowing his world will fade yet again… Ace wouldn't be surprised if Marco did everything in his power to avoid it entirely.

He understands now why Marco doesn't talk about soulmates with the others.

"It's why I never came up to you," Marco says, sitting back in his chair and looking down at his hands. He shoots a glance to Ace, smiling tightly, before he ducks his head. All Ace sees is his yellow – blond, he corrects himself – hair and confusion returns.

"Came up to me?" Ace asks. Why would Marco come to him?

"I know you lied to Thatch. I know you've been lying to everyone." Ace's skin suddenly feels clammy. He's too hot and he isn't sure he wants to hear Marco's next words. "Because I know you suddenly began to see colour when you first challenged Oyaji, and I know that because I went through exactly the same thing in exactly the same moment."

Ace is finding it hard to breathe. He inhales slowly, fists clenched tightly, and is glad Marco is looking away from him. He had expected Marco's soulmate to be someone on an island far from here. He'd expected his own soulmate to be someone of little consequence and someone he could avoid.

He's wrong, so wrong, on both accounts.

"I don't want a soulmate," Ace says instinctively. His teeth are clenched and he's fighting to keep his fire down. Marco would survive it, but the paperwork is too fragile.

"Nor do I," Marco says. Ace meets his eye and the fire drops right out of him. Marco isn't lying; he doesn't want a soulmate. It should make Ace sigh in relief, make him grin and wave this whole affair off, but it doesn't.

Ace knows he's going to be the one who will leave Marco in darkness. One day, he'll destroy Marco's world entirely and leave him at the mercy of the grey world. Marco will be alone, darkness tearing at him, and there is nothing Ace can do to stop his own mortality.

And despite how much he may say otherwise, Ace does want a soulmate, deep, deep down. He wants someone he can trust beyond all others, someone who will accept him and love him. He wants someone who he can watch the sun set with, someone who he can discuss whether fish crap or not with, and someone who he can share the beauty of the world's splendour with.

How can he really, though, when he has a rotten core inside of himself? Ace cannot expose anyone else to this core, especially not Marco. Ace doesn't deserve anyone's love, and he has to bury his secret desires deep down. People like Ace don't deserve soulmates and people to share the beauty of the world with.

"We can continue as normal," Marco says, voice firm. Ace wants to reach out and tell him otherwise, stop himself making this decision, but he doesn't. He nods his head instead and pastes on a fake smile.

Normalcy isn't something that comes easily, however. Now that Ace knows who his partner is, it's all that plagues his mind. He wonders what food Marco can't resist sneaking bites of and what position he finds most comfortable to sleep in. He wonders what Marco's deepest fears are, and what he wants to accomplish. Ace wants to know everything, but he knows he has no right.

So they continue on as best they can. They work together a lot, and Ace listens in when the rest of the crew try to find out when Marco could see colour. He watches and waits, though Ace isn't sure what he's waiting for exactly.

He discovers one night. The crew have dispersed largely for missions, and there is a quiet gathering on deck. It isn't a party, but there is alcohol, music and gentle conversation. Thatch is away on a mission, and so Marco is left without an interrogation, sitting by Ace's side as they play a game of cards with a few others.

It is nice, and it is comfortable. The kitchen staff call out suddenly and a handful decide they want the late night snacks on offer. Their card game ends, and Ace shrugs his shoulders. He has a terrible hand and is growing bored anyway; he will probably head to sleep soon.

"Goodnight, Oyaji," Ace says, walking up to Whitebeard. Marco's left to collect the cards, and Ace is about to head inside when he catches the look in Whitebeard's eyes. He waits patiently; there is something Whitebeard wants to discuss with him.

"You have no need to deprive yourself," Whitebeard says quietly. "Neither of you need to deny yourselves." He stares down at Ace, making Ace feel so small.

"I understand if there is a proper reason, but if you believe you do not deserve you bond then you're mistaken, my son." Whitebeard smiles, gulping at his sake and looking to a group who have brought snacks out. "You two are both lonely."

Even if Ace had the strength to, he can't deny it. He is lonely, deep in his soul, and he has no idea whether Marco can help the feeling fade. He's been too scared before now to try, and Ace is about to head to his bed when he sees Marco.

Marco is framed in the moonlight, looking down at the cards as he places them in the box. He is concentrated so much on the cards that he isn't even aware of Ace's gaze. He wears a small frown on his brow, and Ace smiles.

Ace waits by the door to the inner cabins, waiting for Marco to notice him. The cards slide into the box, and he pockets them, looking up with a bored expression, his face shifting in surprise when he meets Ace's eye. It is mere moments before he is by Ace's side.

"What do you really think of soulmates?" Ace asks, his hand sliding against the door. He can feel the handle, and he lets his fingers curl around the metal. He can escape this if he wants to, but he wants to hear Marco's answer first.

"That is a big question," Marco says, his hand joining Ace's on the door handle. They are far apart enough that no one will look over and think they were up to something, but the hand covering Ace's shifts over his skin gently, smoothing sensuously.

"I'm going to ruin you," Ace warns, but he feels that it is too late already. It was too late the moment he saw Whitebeard's coat bleed into colour. It was too late the moment he met Jinbe.

"It would be an honour," Marco replies, entirely serious. His hand has stopped, fingers curled against Ace's wrist. "But being soulmates isn't an obligation."

It wasn't. They have come this far, and Marco is letting Ace know that if he needs to, they can end whatever they're about to embark on. They have reasons why they might not work, but Ace doesn't want to think of them right now. He wants to think of Marco and only of Marco.

"I can't lie to myself," Ace mumbles, "I want to give it a chance."

Marco's hand slips from his, pushing down the door handle and dragging Ace inside. He pauses by the wall, looking over his shoulder. They both know what will happen, and excitement spikes in Ace's belly. He's never been with anyone before and knowing Marco is his soulmate makes Ace's knees week. Marco is all his.

Even without Whitebeard's prompting, Ace has known Marco wants their relationship. He will have the pain when Ace dies anyway, but they are alive now. Marco has always watched him, always cared for him, and it all was separate from their bond. Marco did that because he cares for Ace; if he'd wanted something more then he would have revealed himself earlier.

They move towards Marco's rooms. They're closer than Ace's and far more homely. Ace has barely anything, except the colour book and his clothes, and whenever they're in private, they always go to Marco's rooms.

This time is different. They wait until Marco has the door locked, and they stand still for a moment. Ace waits, tilting his head to the side slightly as Marco steps before him, lips lowering to his exposed neck. He grazes Ace's skin gently with his teeth, flesh quivering as Ace's hairs stand on end. He is open and raw in this state, and he reaches out to touch Marco.

Sliding a hand across Marco's chest, Ace wastes no time in sliding his shirt off. His hands run over strong, muscular shoulders as Marco presses his lips harder to his neck, trailing upwards and over Ace's jaw.

His kiss is like seeing colour for the first time. Ace's heart soars as Marco pulls him closer, deepening their kiss. Red blooms behind Ace's eyes and deepens, maroon shooting into his stomach, warming him. He can feel yellow seeping through his pores from Marco, comforting and exhilarating. There is also blue, though it is a small speck, calming his worries. Ace cannot feel the darkness and he pulls Marco back, shuffling to the bed.

They're both shirtless and Marco's skin is hot against his. There are scars and Ace's fingers tremble as they touch them. Each could have cast Marco from this world and each could have condemned Ace to darkness for his entire life.

He has a lot to thank Marco for.

They kiss and they break, like waves coasting the shoreline, and Ace can feel heat growing inside of him. It's unlike his powers. It pushes down inside of him, begging for more and more, and Ace bites his lip as Marco's tongue traces his navel, hands working at the buckle of his belt already.

"If it's too much-" Marco begins, but Ace knows nothing will be enough. He can feel blinding light inside of himself, a muted yellow that needs to burst from him.

"It's okay," Ace says, reaching for Marco's hand and taking it. He links their fingers, curling over the back of Marco's knuckles. "I want this. I want you."

Something seems to break inside of Marco and his face softens. He moves forward and kisses Ace, free hand finally unbuckling Ace's belt. Warmth returns and Ace's heart beats furiously. His stomach dips as orange flushes his system, Marco slipping his trousers off and palming him through his underwear.

Ace is lying on the bed and he pushes himself up, fascinated by watching Marco. His usually placid demeanour is completely shattered as he turns his attention to Ace's dick. He treats it as he treats everything; with utmost care and consideration, and Ace want to laugh at the expression on his face, light blue bubbling around them.

"You don't need to think so hard," Ace says, voice light and joking. His colours dip as Marco touches him again, underwear down and cast aside in a moment. Ace twitches and he can feel the heat of Marco's fingertips, purple dancing between them, tempting and teasing.

Marco looks at him from between his thighs and Ace's throat tightens. His mouth is dry and his colours tighten, too bright and too contrasting in his anticipation. Their vibrancy deepens as Marco runs his hand over the head of his cock, almost lazily.

Colour spirals as Marco takes his cock whole in his mouth, down into his throat. He moves up a few times, but always sinks back down. One of Ace's hands finds its way to his forehead, and he is shuddering as golden spikes shoot through him, matching Marco's movement.

When he pulls back with wet lips, Ace moves instantly, though he already fees boneless. He wants more, wants Marco always, and he wants him to feel the warmth in his chest, the light that is pushing everything else away. He kisses Marco sloppily, heart skipping as Marco pushes him down, legs on either side of his hips. He is astride Ace, and Ace can feel his erection, clothes tight against him. Ace wants to feel him and he pulls his foot up, awkwardly manoeuvring until his knee is in perfect place.

Satisfaction curls in Ace's stomach, rich purple entwining with blood red, when Marco rubs against him. His eyes are closed, forearms propping him up, and Ace watches with a heated gaze as Marco continues to rub against him, breath sharpening.

He reaches a hand up to run around Marco's head. His longer, trademark hair is already sweaty, and Ace pushes it back, fingertips rushing over the tiny hairs Marco keeps trimmed short. He groans, and Ace lets his hand slip lower, delighting in every muscle, every dimple and every grove of Marco's body, until he reaches between them.

The space between them is hot. Ace's cock twitches in anticipation as Marco rids himself of his remaining clothing, and excitement bubbles in Ace. He was content alone before, but Ace knows that'll never be enough for him again.

They press tightly together, and Marco kisses him lazily, thoroughly. Ace pants, smile wide as he tilts his hips up and peers through the peach tint of his world. Marco is looking down on him, hair slicked so that it is in his eyes, and Ace thinks he's never looked more handsome than the sweaty, free way he looks now.

"Roll onto your side," Marco says, kissing Ace's cheek gently. He returns for another kiss, then another, and Ace bats him away, frowning at the loss of Marco when he does back off. His warmth fades, but it returns just as quickly, covering his back as Marco wraps himself around Ace.

"We're not going all the way," he whispers, gentle blue floating through Ace. He is calm and steady, using a knee to open Ace's legs and slip himself between them. His hand grazes Ace's hips, stroking his belly until he comes across Ace's cock again. Gold spikes once more, and Ace lets his head slip back, resting in the small crook of Marco's neck, between the bed and the side of his head.

Ace shivers, clenching his thighs a little when Marco moves his hand. He hears a gasp and grins, though the smile shakes off of his lips when Marco strokes his thumb over the head of his dick. Precome slips alongside Marco's fingers, coating Ace's dick. Marco moves his hips in time with thrusting between Ace's thighs, and they can't last forever.

The gold light warms and Ace tries to catch Marco's wrist before he comes. His body jerks, light surrounding them in Ace's mind, and he can't stop the moan that leaks from him. Marco tightens behind him, and Ace turns his head, hand coming to reach behind Marco's head and pull him close to kiss.

His skin jumps a little when Marco comes, shooting ribbons of come onto his pelvis and belly. Marco rests his head on Ace's shoulder, and Ace smiles, gently turning, letting Marco go for a moment before he buries himself against him once more. His head tucks against Marco's chest, and he smiles as Marco wraps his arms around him tightly, kissing his forehead gently.

Ace doesn't know how long they lie like that, but they do, every night for weeks. The moon changes and the seasons begin to brighten. Duties see that they keep busy, but they return to each other when they can. No one says anything, and the questions on Marco's colour abilities still pour in.

It makes Ace wonder, and he asks Marco about it one night, skin hot and the gold around them fading as sleep creeps in.

"They don't know about us," is what Marco says. "It's not uncommon for people to share rooms, and everyone was waiting for you to leave that room, pretty much."

It is a small, bare room, Ace thinks. Still, has it not crossed anyone's mind? Marco's answer leaves him cold, and there is a cloying dark green that collects at the edge of Ace's mind. It isn't his darkness, but…

"We can tell them if you want to," Marco says, pushing up onto one elbow. His finger tucks into his hair, and he looks at Ace with fondness, a look that only makes Ace want to pull him close and kiss him.

Does he want to tell everyone though? Not particularly. It's not that Ace is a private person – Oyaji knows anyway – but if other people know then there's a certain end in that. If other people know, they'll be happy for them, and Ace can't accept that.

He sits up, head bowing and hands in his lap. What is he doing, really?

"Ace?" Marco says gently, mirroring him and sitting up.

How can Ace have done this to Marco? How can he have done it to someone who loves him so wholly?

"Inside," Ace begins, a hand coming to curl over his heart, "inside of me there is only darkness."

Marco remains silent, and Ace draws a shaky breath. The green has vanished from his mind, darkness back. It's what he hates about the nights, their ability to draw colour from the world.

"I carry a demon's legacy inside of me," Ace says, drawing his knees up. The covers fall away from him, and he is bared, soul and body, to Marco. He rests his head on his knees and fight not to tremble, thinking of the terrible burden he is placing on this entire crew.

Marco knows whose son he is. He'd told him when he'd told Whitebeard, trusting Marco and needing acceptance from more than one person. Marco had shrugged it off and smiled, wrapping an arm around Ace and leading him to the kitchen. That had been that.

But it isn't enough for Ace anymore, not when he can feel himself loving Marco with every inch of goodness inside of himself. He doesn't want his darkness to taint Marco, and so they need to stop this. Ace needs to leave him, or it'll be worse for both of them later on.

Marco can't stop the darkness forever.

"When you're with Oyaji, what do you feel?" Marco asks. Ace frowns at the question, but thinks hard.

"I feel peaceful," he says eventually, and one of his legs slips down. Ace lets the other fall, and he lies back, staring at the grey ceiling. "He calms me."

There is a pause, and Marco remains silent. The words are there, but it takes time for Ace to accept them, for him to say them.

"I feel loved," he admits eventually, and the bed sinks when Marco lays back too, hands on his stomach. He doesn't look at Ace, and Ace is thankful.

"You make me feel loved too," he offers. Ace guesses that Marco wants to ask, but he doesn't want to wait. Ace feels as if he can talk now, and so he will.

"Aside from the obvious, I see everything when I'm with you." Ace isn't sure his words are being used well here, but he has to try. "When I'm with you, I can forget the darkness inside of me. You make me feel like I'm someone, that I deserve to be loved."

Ace feels Marco twitch, wanting to reach out. They stay as they are, though, and Ace bites the inside of his cheek. He'll never display his unsureness before other people, but here the darkness has become his friend. It cloaks him for now, and he can accept it.

"You make me accept myself," Ace says quietly, covering his eyes with a hand as the words slip free. He laughs, a harsh echo through the room, and shakes his head. Ace can feel the tears welling up, and he doesn't understand why, doesn't get why Marco can just stay there, doesn't understand why Marco hasn't run to the other end of the ship by now.

"You're allowed to be unsure," Marco says. His voice calms Ace a little and he takes a steadying breath, hand still covering his eyes. "You're allowed to hate yourself and have days where you want to throw yourself into the sea."

Ace shook his head. That wasn't what he wanted.

"I don't want that," he said quietly and let his hand fall from his eyes. "I want to live, more than anything."

Marco is smiling when Ace looks at him.

"You're still allowed to be unsure," Marco says. He turns onto his side so he can face Ace, one hand in the space between them. A hand isn't enough, though, and Ace shifts until he is pressed against Marco, arms wrapped around each other.

"Life isn't easy and neither will our relationship be, but I'm willing to be there for you, no matter what." Marco kissed his forehead. "If you want to stop this, I'll still be there. If you want to tell everyone in the world, I'll be there. Whatever you decide, I'll be there if you'll be there for me too."

Ace squeezed his eyes shut tightly at Marco's words, muted yellow flowing through his body. He felt as though he wanted to cry, though he didn't, and searched for Marco's eyes, smiling a little shakily as he met his gaze.

"I'll always be there for you," he says, kissing Marco gently. Marco is everything; he's the one who has Ace's heart entirely.

Despite the darkness and despite Ace's doubts, he knows Marco will be there. Ace knows there will be days when he wants to pack up and run away, to let the darkness consume him, but there will always be the spike of gold and blue, wrapped together in his chest tightly. Marco will never leave him, and, no matter how hard it gets, Ace plans never to leave Marco.

They are soulmates, after all.

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Reviews are appreciated, thank you for reading. This will be 3 chapters in length and I hope to get the next part out asap!