(A/N: H-hi….so…I'm just going to be in a corner from now until doomsday. *hides*

Guest: yes, MarcoxAce has been my OTP for a little less than a year now. I hope you enjoy the continuation. I'm glad you like the other ones, and I hope this one lives up to your expectations. QnQ

This One-Shot is ThatchxAce

WARNING: contains SWEARING and EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT)

Ace sighed heavily. Today had been uninteresting. Boring. There was nothing he hated more. An uneventful day was just…dumb. I mean, why bother even wake up in the morning if nothing's going to happen?

Mental grumbling aside, Ace bent and turned on the hot water. Nothing like a shower to shrug off negativity or the suckitude of a bad day. Right now, he needed to get rid of both.

Steam filled the small bathroom and Ace inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. Yes. This was perfect. After the disappointment of the day, the warm steam, the solitude, the white noise of the water against the basin, it was like poetry.

He slipped off his shorts, placed his hat on the counter, and stepped into the tub, under the hot spray.

The water melted over his shoulders, intimate, comforting, perfect. Ace let himself just stand under the water, letting it run through his hair, down his back, chest, legs. He felt all tension melt away, replaced by a dull glow of warmth. He wondered just what it was that made showers so fantastic. What made them so innately, instinctively comfortable. Ace rolled his shoulders and tossed some water on his face.

With the water drumming rhythmically against his back, Ace turned to the shelf, grabbing a bottle of shampoo. Ace dropped a dollop of the stuff into his hand, then scrubbed it into his hair. He giggled somewhat immaturely at the way, using shampoo as adhesive, he could make little sudsy spikes of hair that stuck straight off his head. They eventually fell, though, slowly coming back down to touch his forehead and deposit white foam.

Ace tipped his head back, putting his scalp back under the spray. His eyes wandered over the ceiling thoughtlessly, mind empty save for the pleasant hum of relaxation. He could almost forget how monumentally boring the day had been. He just wished something would happen. He didn't like being bored, being static. It wasn't in his nature. But as his eyes travelled vaguely over the tile he tried to push it from his mind. And then he noticed it.

A tiny hole in the ceiling.

His eyes had actually swung over it once already without noticing, but this second time, he became aware of it. Subdued into lethargy as he was by the thrum of the water against his scalp, he didn't have an immediate panic attack. His eyes just kept moving. But it gave him something to think about, and as he did, he slowly regained cognizance. And with it, reality.

There was a hole in the fucking ceiling.

Sure it was small, not really big enough to be any cause for structural concern at all or anything, but it was there. Round, tiny, stretching off into places unknown. Still out of it, Ace dimly realized that wasn't just an accidental crack or small split that had opened up into a hole. It was too uniform, too perfect for that. It had been made. Intentionally.

But why? Ace pondered. In retrospect, this was a very idiotic question. Realization dawned on him slowly, and as Ace's mind turned back on, so did his trickster's nature. Ooh! Voyeurism? Naughty. And suddenly, today wasn't so boring. He had something to do. Someone to mess with. His favorite pastime. He turned away, hiding the sly smirk on his face.

Of course, he couldn't be 100% sure someone was on the other side. Maybe he was wrong and it was just a coincidental flaw in the tile. Or, alternately, maybe it wasn't him that that hole was for. But he didn't know, so why not have a little fun? Maybe find out who was on the other side.

Ace didn't say a word, didn't confront the mystery person who may or may not even be there. Instead, he turned again, tiny ghost of a smirk on his face, and reached for the soap.

He made a real show of getting clean. Hands trailing over his own skin alluringly, bending and folding, tipping his head back, closing his eyes and parting his lips, exposing his neck as he rubbed the soap over the skin… Whoever was on the other side would definitely be losing their composure. And that was what he needed.

If he really interacted with them every day without knowing who they were, they'd be damn good at lying. So he needed to get them ruffled. Make them act somehow differently around him, so that when he encountered them, he'd know. He traced a hand down his chest, fingers brushing over one nipple, and replaced the soap. He stepped back under the spray, letting the water carry away the suds.

Ace turned off the water, tossing his head to shake loose a few droplets. He stepped out of the tub, making sure to leave the shower curtain wide open so they'd still be able to see him. He grabbed a towel and dried himself, starting with his head and hair. Once he was mostly dry, he turned again, smirking to himself, to his next method of torture.

Lotion.

Ace did his arms first, saving the best for last. And, when he was good and ready, he hitched up one leg, foot on the countertop, shamelessly displaying the appendage. As he slid his lotioned hands up his leg, he made sure his pace was even, but slow enough to be agonizing for the watcher. Up his calf, over his knee, climbing his thigh… and then, just before reaching where leg met pelvis, he stopped abruptly, dropping that leg. A moment later, he replaced it with the other one and began the process anew. Once finished with that leg, he lowered it to the floor. That should be enough, Ace thought. Whoever it is will at least blush when they see me. And so, without a backwards glance at that tiny hole in the ceiling, Ace dressed in the fresh set of clothes he'd brought with him, smile of victory tugging at his mouth. He'd won. He knew it. He just had to prove it.

As he walked down the hallway back towards his room to deposit his other clothes, his mind began playing out the various scenarios that this could lead to. When he did find out who it was, how should he react? Should he confront them? How? He supposed it depended on who exactly it was. And who could it be, really? Marco? Ace didn't think that was his kind of kink…

Ace opened his door, carelessly tossing his clothes onto the bed before shutting it again. Dinner was soon, and hell if he'd miss a meal for something like tidiness.

As he walked towards the mess hall, still lost in thought, he bumped shoulders with someone. He turned instantly.

"Sorry about that! I was kinda spacing out…" Ace trailed off, cocking his head to the side. "Thatch? Where are you going? I'm pretty sure the mess hall is the other way…" Thatch didn't turn.

"I'll be there in just a minute. Save me some of those potatoes, okay?" Without even a backwards glance he kept going, nearly speed-walking. Ace furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Okay but you know the rules. If you're not there in five minutes, I'm eating yours!" he called after him, a little more reserved than usual. What's with him?

"…And that is how you can use goat cheese as giant squid bait." Ace concluded. Marco, seated across from him, laughed, giving a somewhat condescending slow clap.

"Damn, Ace. You're so far into idiot territory you turn it around and make it halfway smart," he said, still chuckling. Ace pouted.

"I resent that, thank you very much," he protested. "Dumb pineapple…" he murmured under his breath, careful to keep the decibel level in the single digits. Marco had scary good hearing when it came to certain choice words. Ace stabbed another piece of chicken with his fork, perhaps a little more viciously than absolutely necessary. He glared at Marco halfheartedly.

"Speaking of idiots, where's Thatch? He's not usually late to dinner," Marco stated, light confusion on his face. Ace blinked, his former, semi-feigned ire gone, and looked around. It was true. Thatch wasn't there. Huh.

"I passed him in the hall on my way down here. He said he'd be here in a few minutes…" Ace trailed off, confusion evident on his face. This was odd. Thatch – hell, anyone really, who did as much physical labor as a pirate on the average day – never missed a meal. He gave Marco a somewhat concerned look. "It's not like he'd get lost or anything, but do you think I should maybe go look for hi-"

"Sorry I'm late!" Ace's eyes snapped instantly to the source of the voice. Marco quirked an amused eyebrow.

"Well well well. Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Thatch dropped into his usual seat at the table. He faked an innocent, shocked look at Marco.

"Are you calling me Satan?" he asked, sounding mildly horrified. Marco gave him a flat look.

"The shit you've pulled in the past I can't comfortably call you anything else. You passed Azazel a long time ago," he deadpanned, one eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Thatch threw a hand over his heart, his other going to his forehead as he feigned a swoon.

"Marco, you wound me," he said. A grin came to his face and he dropped the hand from his head. "Surely I've passed Lucifer a long time ago in your book. Please, give me the credit I deserve. If you lowly mortals must address me, use my true title, Loki, God of Mischief!"

"Careful, Thatch, you're having delusions of grandeur again," Ace chuckled. He thought he saw the barest corner of Thatch's eye twitch, but it was so quick that he couldn't be sure. Thatch snorted, settling down and beginning to set into his food. A few moments of silence reigned before Ace spoke again. "By the way, Thatch, where have you been?" he asked. There was a tiny pause as Marco too looked to Thatch in curiosity. Thatch's face pulled into a smile (somewhat tight? Or was that just Ace's imagination?).

"I spilled some stuff on my shirt while I was cooking, so I had to go change before dinner," Thatch said, lifting another forkful of food to his mouth. He took a moment to chew before continuing. "Unlike some uncultured monkeys, I still place some reverence in the importance of meal times. I couldn't exactly show up to one of the focal points of the day in a stained shirt." Thatch…Ace couldn't quite place it, but he was doing something odd with his eyes. He was looking at Ace's face, but…he wasn't looking at him. Or…he wasn't seeing him. Something like that. Like he had unfocused his eyes or something. Either way, he wasn't looking Ace in the eyes, more staring at a spot on his forehead to give the impression he was looking Ace in the eyes. Ace allowed no confusion to show on his face. He only does that when he's lying. I've seen him do it to Marco. He told me it was a good trick for lying convincingly. Look through the person you're lying to. See them as a wall. It disassociates you from what you're doing and keeps you from feeling nervous. Hmm. Ace blinked. …Keeps you from feeling nervous. Ace's eyes widened and he looked to Thatch. Thatch, contrarily, was studiously staring at his plate while he ate. There's no. Fucking. Way.

Then why won't he meet your eyes?

...Good point. Ace could do nothing but sit, stunned. Thatch?! Well that one had come as a bit of a shock. Although, part of his mind whispered, maybe not altogether an unwelcome one. As Ace stewed over exactly what his own mind exactly meant by that particular comment, he continued to watch Marco and Thatch interact. There was no doubt about it. Thatch was looking and talking at Marco normally. It was only when he'd addressed Ace that he'd used that trick with his eyes.

The rest of the meal passed in…semi-normalcy. True, they might have been a bit more subdued than usual, but that could just be passed off as a result of the dull day. Thatch left first and, after an acceptable break, Ace followed.

What am I doing?Ace asked himself. To be honest, he didn't know. All he knew was that he'd seen Thatch head down this hallway and something inside him, something borderline compulsory in his inability to resist it, pulled him after. Something sparking and twisting inside him, egging him on, energizing him, screaming go for it.

Ace rounded the next corner, pleased to see he'd closed a lot of the distance between him and Thatch. Thatch, either ignoring him or being honestly ignorant, hadn't turned and didn't address him. Ace couldn't help but once again question himself. What am I doing?And truly, what were his intentions? What would he even say? How did he feel about this? No time for that, damn his long stride and fast pace.

"Thatch!" he called as he drew nearer. Thatch froze. "Stop!" Ace didn't even know what he was saying, wasn't thinking. He drew up behind Thatch. "We need to talk," he said seriously. It was the first thing that popped into his head. He could almost see Thatch swallow before forcing a smile. Thatch turned to face him, smile in place just as Ace had known it would be.

"Talk? About what?" It was barely, barely detectable, but Ace could tell Thatch's voice shook minutely. It was only the kind of thing you'd notice if you heard him speak every day. Ace drew closer, more to appropriate conversation distance.

"About why you were actually late to dinner." Ace concluded. He saw Thatch stiffen.

"…I already told you it was because I-"

"Had to change your shirt? That's shit and we both know it." Ace sighed, a smirk coming to his face. What am I doing?He couldn't help but mentally wonder. "But fine. If you don't want to talk about that, why don't we talk about that little hole in the bathroom ceiling." He saw Thatch's eyes widen. A brief silence passed.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." Ace continued smirking, but raised one eyebrow.

"Sure you don't," he said, disbelieving and bemused. His voice turned serious. "But listen now, Thatch, because there's a much more important question which I need you to answer." Ace moved forward suddenly, seizing the front of Thatch's shirt and slamming him into the wall. Their bodies now were barely separated. "I don't particularly care how long that's been there or how long you've been on the other side, but tell me this, Thatch. Is it for love? Or for lust?" Am I object or person to you? A moment of silence followed. Thatch's look of shock and false denial replaced by one Ace couldn't quite name.

Thatch grabbed his shoulders suddenly, spinning them and slamming Ace's back into the wall where his had been only moments before. Ace's eyes widened in surprise and light pain. Thatch stared down into his face, eyes smoldering. A tiny, fiery smile tugged at his mouth.

"Both."

He tangled the fingers of one hand through Ace's hair, dragging his head up and crashing his lips against Ace's. For a moment, Ace was still, too surprised to formulate a response. Thatch merely pulled him closer, the hand not engaged in his hair dropping around his waist. Ace's heart felt like it was going a mile a minute. Do I want this? He asked himself. Do I? Really? Ace snorted.

Well duh.

Ace allowed his eyes to close, relaxing into the embrace. He wrapped his arms around Thatch's neck, stepping even closer, their bodies flush against each other. Thatch ran his tongue along Ace's lower lip and Ace complied to the silent request, opening his mouth slightly. Instantly Thatch's tongue pushed its way inside his mouth, ravishing, exploring. Ace pushed back, trying to regain some kind of dominance but damn, Thatch wasn't having any of it. He pushed Ace back against the wall, only finally parting when Ace felt sure he was about to collapse from lack of oxygen. Thatch, though, seemed to have no such issue, instantly pulling Ace's head back roughly via his hair and latching his mouth onto Ace's neck.

Ace couldn't help the tiny moan that passed his lips as Thatch sucked his way along Ace's neck, down to his collarbone then back up to his ear. He bit down, the mix of pain and arching pleasure causing Ace to give a quiet cry. He could feel Thatch's smirk against his skin and felt an electrifying tingle pass down his spine as Thatch chuckled huskily beside his ear.

"Somebody's certainly eager," he whispered, pausing to suck at Ace's jugular again. "Of all the responses I expected, this one certainly wasn't near the top of the list…" he murmured, hand ghosting up Ace's side. Ace swallowed thickly.

"In all f-fairness I should press charges," he stuttered between pants. Thatch laughed again, and Ace again felt that near electrical shiver. He pressed one knee between Ace's legs, thigh brushing along a certain growing problem.

"You seem to be pressing something else," he whispered lewdly, rubbing his thigh against Ace's hardening length, earning a gasp followed by a shuddering moan.

It was quite lucky they'd been literally right outside the door to Thatch's room when Ace had first addressed him. If they hadn't been, they would have no doubt had trouble getting there fully clothed. As it was, Thatch claimed Ace's lips again, pressing the two of them back until he was able to fumble the door open. Instantly he pushed Ace inside, closing it behind them and locking it. He turned back to face Ace only to find Ace had other plans.

He shoved Thatch against the door, locking their lips and wrestling with Thatch's shirt. Thatch, taken by surprise, was at Ace's mercy for a moment. Ace, sensing his advantage, sucked on Thatch's lower lip before biting it. He managed to finally open the shirt and tore it from Thatch's shoulders, flinging it thoughtlessly across the room. Thatch was beginning to recover from his surprise, and Ace had started in at his belt. Thatch began to react, then, pushing Ace back towards the bed even as he kissed and marked him, mouth exploring Ace's neck and face.

When they finally reached it, Thatch pushed Ace down, flat on his back. For a moment he just stood there, relishing in the sight of Ace panting, flushed, hungry, staring up at him with need and desire and want but so much more…

Thatch undid the buckle of his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor.

Ace had seemingly had enough of waiting and pulled Thatch down on top of him, Thatch complying all too willingly. He and Ace kissed – Thatch wasn't even sure that was the right word for it anymore, rough and passionate as it was – and Thatch's hands wandered over Ace's chest. He rubbed one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, earning a throaty moan from Ace. Thatch smirked, breaking away, kissing and sucking his way down Ace's chest.

While he kissed him, working hard to memorize the way each specific spot made Ace writhe and moan, Thatch worked on Ace's pants. He'd just gotten the belt open when Ace moved, switching them.

He stared into Thatch's face and licked his lips slowly.

He kissed his way down Thatch's body, starting with his mouth before licking and sucking his way down his neck and chest. And damn Ace was good at this. Thatch couldn't stop the shuddering groan as Ace drew closer and closer to his member. Ace's eyes flicked up to meet his as he paused just beside Thatch's erection, so close Thatch could feel his breath on his skin.

Still maintaining eye contact, Ace trailed the very tip of his tongue up along Thatch's member. Thatch groaned again, reaching down and grabbing Ace's head. Ace let him, and in one fluid movement, sheathed Thatch's whole length in his mouth and throat. Thatch's hips bucked automatically in response and he moaned, trying not to grip Ace's hair too hard. Ace began moving up and down, setting a rhythm. Thatch tried to increase the pace via his grip on Ace's hair, but Ace was having none of it. It was delicious torture for Thatch, both incredibly arousing and entirely unsatisfying. He needed more.

Ace began flicking his tongue along the underside, tracing it over the skin. Thatch moaned and tried to buck his hips, but Ace had gripped them firmly, preventing him from moving.

"Ace-" Thatch panted. Ace hollowed his cheeks, sucking. Hard. "FUCK!" He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not if Ace kept this up and fuck he was doing it again and-

Ace sucked, simultaneously tracing his teeth over Thatch's member and Thatch couldn't hold back anymore. He came with force enough to leave him gasping, blinking white spots from his vision. Ace swallowed all, drawing back and tracing his way lightly back up Thatch's panting chest. He hovered just above Thatch's mouth, seemingly about to kiss him, but drew away again with a smirk.

Thatch tried to pull him back down on top of him, but Ace batted his hands away, drawing back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He sat back a short distance away from Thatch on the bed, near the headboard. He stared right into Thatch's face, lustful spark in his eyes.

"You must have enjoyed that little show in the bathroom. I'm sure you'll love this," Ace murmured amorously. While he spoke, he trailed a hand down his chest, breath hitching slightly as he passed over one hardened nipple. His hand finally stopped at the base of his own member, before slowly tracing his hand up it. He couldn't stop the tiny gasp, and he could already see the affect his display was having on Thatch. Ace groaned slightly as he rubbed his thumb over the head before sliding his hand back down. He moved further down still, first grasping then massaging his balls. A throaty moan passed his lips this time, unhindered. His other hand fisted the sheets as his eyes shut momentarily in pleasure.

Now panting slightly, Ace lifted himself a little off the bed, more kneeling than sitting. Staring Thatch straight in the face, he lifted a hand to his mouth. He extended his tongue, swirling it around three of his fingers. Thatch watched him in fascination, not needing to look down to know he was already hard again. Once Ace's fingers were thoroughly slicked, his hand travelled south again.

Ace inserted one finger first, gasping slightly, beginning to slide it in and out, stretching himself. A second soon followed, and Ace's panting began to be severed by tiny moans. Ace's eyes drifted closed and his back arched as he inserted a third finger, the stretch hurting a bit but feeling impossibly pleasurable. Ace's other hand clutched at the sheets and he tossed his head back, gasping and panting.

And that was it. Thatch couldn't take any more.

He grasped desperately at Ace's flesh and Ace knew, understood. He turned himself, bracing his arms against the headboard, hips high in the air. He was ready. He wanted this. Thatch grabbed his hips desperately, his torso shadowing Ace's, head a scant few inches above.

"I love you," he whispered.

And he pushed his way in.

FUCK Ace was tight. And hot. Thatch hung there, quivering lightly. Instinct told him to move, to slam into Ace with everything he had, but he waited. Ace clutched the headboard tightly, trembling slightly beneath him, jaw clenched in pain. Fuck it hurt. But fuck if it didn't feel amazing. Thatch was half-draped over his back, whispering quiet nothings into his hair. Ace moved slightly, and felt Thatch shift inside him, eliciting a groan.

"Are you alright, Ace?" Thatch asked sounding strained. Damn he wanted to move. But he wouldn't hurt Ace.

"I'm alright, Thatch. Move."

"You su-"

"Do it." Ace sounded desperate, needy, lustful. Thatch felt himself smirk, hearing that tone in Ace's voice. He drew back, then slid back down. Ace, seemingly unsatisfied with this, met him in his next thrust, bucking his hips back to increase the pace. Thatch complied with the unspoken request, drawing back and slamming back into Ace harder, faster. Ace groaned, that mix of pleasure and pain only serving to carry him higher. More. He wanted, needed more. "Th-Thatch!" Ace called, slamming back into him as he came down again. Thatch groaned approval, increasing the pace even further.

And then he hit a spot that made Ace see stars.

Ace couldn't help the half-scream that came out of his mouth. He convulsed beneath Thatch, nearly coming right there. Thatch smirked, aiming for that spot again and again and again. Ace was reduced to a desperate, whimpering mess beneath him, and still Thatch pressed on. He knew he was close, and hell if Ace wasn't too. Thatch reached beneath Ace's torso, wrapping his hand around Ace's member. Ace moaned again, automatically bucking his hips, unintentionally seating Thatch even deeper, eliciting a moan from him as well.

Thatch began stroking Ace's member in time with his thrusts, still aiming for that special target of his inside of Ace. Ace shuddered beneath him.

"Oh God, I- Fuck, I just- I'm gonna-" One last, powerful thrust was all it took and Ace plummeted over the edge, Thatch's name passing his lips in a hoarse half moan, half shout. His body convulsed, spasming tighter around Thatch's member and he too was thrown over his edge. He grasped Ace's hips tightly, biting at his shoulder and neck, stifling a yell.

He slid down to the bed, panting, Ace beside him. He lay on his back, gasping for sweet oxygen, post-orgasmic bliss settling him into a happy glow. Ace lay next to him, his breathing even more ragged and uneven. For a while, no words passed, merely the regaining of breath and content silence. As he stilled, Ace shifted, turning to be more on his side, head resting on Thatch's shoulder, hand on Thatch's chest.

"…So…did you really know I was watching you?" Thatch asked. Ace gave him a flat look.

"No. I shower like a hoe every day just for fun," he deadpanned. Thatch chuckled slightly, teasing smile coming to his face.

"You little tramp," he said, continuing the joke. Ace snorted.

"Oh, romance me with flattery, why don't you?" he said flatly.

"You know…most people would have freaked out." Thatch said, tone more serious than before.

"Well, as you know, I'm not most people. And…well…" Ace trailed off.

"And…?" Thatch prompted, intrigued.

"…And today was just damn boring is all. I wanted something fun to do." Thatch cocked an amused eyebrow at him.

"I think you and the general populace have very different definitions of 'fun,'" Thatch said. Ace merely shrugged, and comfortable silence resumed. Ace was content, wrapped in the warmth and silent safety of Thatch's arms. He felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep when Thatch spoke again, waking him.

"You know, for a virgin you were certainly damn good at sex." Ace propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Thatch, condescension in his face and voice.

"Oh, well isn't somebody cocky? You really think I'd give my first time to you?" Thatch blinked at him, shocked.

"You're not a-?"

"Nope. Never said I was." Ace dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, bemused smirk on his face. "I think your delusions of grandeur might be acting up again." Thatch studied him in silence.

"…Bullshit. I don't believe you." Ace lay back down, getting comfortable again.

"Fine. Ask Marco." A moment of silence passed. Then Thatch's brain actually processed what the hell Ace just said.

"WHAT?!" he shrieked, sitting bolt upright. Ace laughed. Thatch spluttered, unable even to speak for a few moments. Finally gaining control of himself, he asked, "But…how many times?!" Ace smirked at him, holding up three fingers. Thatch nearly fainted. Ace patted him patronizingly on the head.

"There there, Thatch. You're a little late to the party, but I'm glad you're here!" he said with feigned sympathy. After Thatch had recovered somewhat, he spoke again, voice much more serious and collected.

"I don't want you sleeping with him anymore." Ace raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And what gives you power over me?" His face pulled into a smirk. "If you want me to keep coming back to you instead of him, you better do a better job than him. Convince me, Thatch." Ace stretched his arms, sighing. "And besides. Life's too short to be tied to one person. I love you both. Why should I have to choose?"

"…I…I can't believe that freakin' turkey beat me to you." Ace lay back down, settling in on the pillows.

"Oh he beat you to a lot of things." Ace said, half asleep. But before Thatch could question what exactly that meant, Ace was sound asleep. Thatch lay awake for a while longer, arms wrapped around Ace nearly possessively. Him versus Marco with Ace as the prize? Well, Thatch always did enjoy a challenge. And hell, there was no way Marco of all people could exceed him in the bedroom. Convince me. Ace's words echoed in his head.

Convince me. Thatch grinned.

He liked the sound of that.

(A/N: *still hiding*)

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