One Piece - Nix - Smoker/Ace
Title: Nix
Pairing/Characters: Smoker x Ace
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Notes: Written for 30_kisses theme #8.
This doesn't really exist, does it?
Smoker thinks this to himself, watching the way the moonlight bounces off of Ace's skin. He's only standing near the porthole in Smoker's sleeping quarters, doing nothing especially illegal (save for existing).
But there are reasons why there are rules against this. And all of those are damn good reasons that Smoker can't especially argue with, certainly not to make an exception for himself. That would imply that he wanted more. That he wanted to make this known or he wanted to wake up in the morning with another warm body next to his and of course he doesn't want that. Ace can be so damn obnoxious sometimes. All the time.
So it's with that that he's decided this isn't real. Sure, it's tangible, but when he's an old man and looks back on what he's done with his life, this won't be one of the things he remembers. It's just a collection of bones that he'll throw back into the closet.
"Something wrong, tai~sa?"
Ace always says it in that infuriating, sing-song way. Like he needs to somehow remind Smoker that there is only one man in the world that he'll ever really call taisa and mean it. But it's probably better to leave it as a quirk and nothing further, because that too would indicate a desire for something more.
Smoker wonders, for just a moment, if any of these thoughts ever run through that pirate's pea brain.
But it's hard to wonder for long when Ace is swiveling his hips and his shorts are sliding off of his body. He's licking his fingers and leaving slick trails of spit on his chest and the moonlight is catching all of them. Ace looks ridiculously ethereal for what it is he's doing and Smoker just wants to get out of these entirely-too-tight pants.
"Just get the hell over here, Portgas." Smoker growls.
Ace's skin doesn't glow as much up close, but he always feels hot to the touch. Smoker is used to it now. He always feels resentment when he does give in, when he lets Ace grind into his lap and grabs at handfulls of his ass. Because every single bullet point in that thick marine handbook detailing why this is against the rules is absolutely right.
Very good reasons why he shouldn't be tasting the inside of a pirate's mouth or hissing his name through clenched teeth during climax.
But none of that really matters too much. This doesn't really exist, anyway. Does it?
Pairing/Characters: Smoker x Ace
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Notes: Written for 30_kisses theme #8.
This doesn't really exist, does it?
Smoker thinks this to himself, watching the way the moonlight bounces off of Ace's skin. He's only standing near the porthole in Smoker's sleeping quarters, doing nothing especially illegal (save for existing).
But there are reasons why there are rules against this. And all of those are damn good reasons that Smoker can't especially argue with, certainly not to make an exception for himself. That would imply that he wanted more. That he wanted to make this known or he wanted to wake up in the morning with another warm body next to his and of course he doesn't want that. Ace can be so damn obnoxious sometimes. All the time.
So it's with that that he's decided this isn't real. Sure, it's tangible, but when he's an old man and looks back on what he's done with his life, this won't be one of the things he remembers. It's just a collection of bones that he'll throw back into the closet.
"Something wrong, tai~sa?"
Ace always says it in that infuriating, sing-song way. Like he needs to somehow remind Smoker that there is only one man in the world that he'll ever really call taisa and mean it. But it's probably better to leave it as a quirk and nothing further, because that too would indicate a desire for something more.
Smoker wonders, for just a moment, if any of these thoughts ever run through that pirate's pea brain.
But it's hard to wonder for long when Ace is swiveling his hips and his shorts are sliding off of his body. He's licking his fingers and leaving slick trails of spit on his chest and the moonlight is catching all of them. Ace looks ridiculously ethereal for what it is he's doing and Smoker just wants to get out of these entirely-too-tight pants.
"Just get the hell over here, Portgas." Smoker growls.
Ace's skin doesn't glow as much up close, but he always feels hot to the touch. Smoker is used to it now. He always feels resentment when he does give in, when he lets Ace grind into his lap and grabs at handfulls of his ass. Because every single bullet point in that thick marine handbook detailing why this is against the rules is absolutely right.
Very good reasons why he shouldn't be tasting the inside of a pirate's mouth or hissing his name through clenched teeth during climax.
But none of that really matters too much. This doesn't really exist, anyway. Does it?