One Piece one shots.

Marco X Ace. Burning.

-AN-
Ok...Sooo... I don't really know what else to say here, other than you all know I ship MarAce... And if you didn't, well now you do! They're my OTP, and I thought... Well, for a ninetieth special...Yeah. No lemon, just...Yeah. Lol, this is my first time doing a Male x Male, so it may be a bit mediocre. But I hope you enjoy!

Also, ten more fanfics until we hit tripple digits, guys! I'm definitely doing some kind of lemon, so, I just wanted to know who you want for that? Comment, and I'll pick the most popular!

Oh yeah, this is yaoi, no smut, just... bloody hell, I dunno. XD

Song~ No. Friggin. Clue. So, it'll just be what I was listening to at the time.

Candy~ Britney spears.

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Three days

That kid, had been here, for three God damn days, and Marco was already infatuated with him. The blond was, undoubtedly, pissed at himself.

It was ridiculous, feeling such an emotion as love towards someone you had just met.

Ugh, love...

Marco scoffed at himself, raising his right arm so his forearm shielded his eyes.

Here, alone within the confines of his bedroom, he surrendered himself to his thoughts. Hoping that some form of clarity would shine over the fog that had been clouding his mind. The fog had a name.

Ace.

Raven hair, ash-gray eyes, peppered freckles, and sculpted torso. Only some of the many things that caught the first division commander's attention when he laid eyes on the male first hand.

Of course, Marco had seen Ace's wanted poster. But with his picture being a shot from his throat upward, there wasn't much to see from it. Not to mention the off-beige tinge every poster was designed with. It made it hard to define details on a person.

Rolling his head against his pillow, Marco allowed his bored, blue gaze to fall onto his door. Since he had awoken, Ace hadn't done much. The only movement he had made was when he had foolishly made an attempt on the old man's life.

Tch, damn brat.

Marco growled internally, sitting up and swinging his feet over his bedside. Standing up, the male reached skyward, the strong muscles in his abdomen stretching.

He grunted, and reached for his usual, purple shirt. Of which he had discarded over the back of a nearby chair. It was late at night, about midnight, no doubt everyone would be asleep. The Phoenix had no doubt in his mind that Thatch will have checked on the boy before heading to bed; But as long as he pretended not to know that, he could continue to convince himself he was just being kind. And that he was checking on the youngster for a reason other than the simple desire to see his face.

Twisting the brass knob on his door,he slowly pulled the wooden barrier open. The darkness of a long corridor stretching out like a roll of tape before his eyes.

A sigh floated unnoticed into the night courtesy of the blond, as he silently slipped from his room and shut his door. Traveling quietly through the desolate passage was a lot easier without his sandles, of which he had left, along with the flared calf-decoration, in his room.

Moments later, and yet another door was swung open.Except this time, Marco was greeted by a cold, brisk air that slapped him in the face like the back of a hand.

The icey-coldness of the night managed to numb his inner turmoil somewhat. That was, until he saw the reason of his confliction.

Instead of being sat on floor,like he usually was, he had his forearms resting on the railing of the ship, hands linked as he gazed out to sea.