Hello Gay Man, I'm Gay Too (MarcoxAce)

Two years

 Warnings: mentions of character death.

Disclaimer: One Piece, its characters, and its plot, all belong to Eiichiro Oda. I do not own them. Sad Cannon, because the cannon is sad and we all like to pretend Ace isn't dead, but he's dead.

Notes: lol, sorry, this took a while to put out. There's twenty published chapters (21 once I publish this), and over 9 drafts of unused potential, 'slow claps.' Anyways, my mind is sort of in a state of depression right now, and I hate myself for falling back into it, again. So this turned dark, and I hate that I've reverted back to dark and sad. Sometimes, it's just hard to pull out the part of me that's happy, especially after going back to school, it feels like I'm in a nightmare. So yeah, bear with me ;-;

There's another really fun one coming on the way though that I'm super excited about, so that one should be a little more exciting and lighter than this one. Hope you enjoy <3

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 Marco shivers under the fading light of the evening sun. He's dangerously close to the shoreline, but Marco can't bring himself to care. The last rays of the sun are slowly sparkling away, and his breath hitches on something unspoken--something soft and bittersweet. He buzzes with a feeling of numbness that refuses to go away.

 Long after the sun's gone, Marco remains, only now the waves are making direct contact with his torso. He can feel each wave slapping against his chest, shaking his core. All of his strength, all of his tears are fading away. All that's left is the grey buzz at the back of his mind.

He faintly hears someone sitting down next to him but dismisses it as the hallucination he has every single night this has happened. The buzz is growing louder and louder, and Marco's eyes are threatening to seal shut. He can almost feel his touch on the surface of his hand, lovingly intertwining those fingers with his own, a quiet reassurance that Marco's desperately missed.

 Behind the darkness of his lids, Marco sees it. He can see him standing there, grinning like there was no tomorrow. Laughter dances in the crinkles of their eyes and they're grinning like it was yesterday. They're grinning like it was seven-hundred and thirty yesterdays ago, like the day he died with a soft and a sad grin in the arms of his younger brother. 

 Marco thinks a cry of pain escapes him when Ace cups his jaw, and Marco's leaning into a phantom touch that only emerges when the buzz is drowning out all other aspects of what is and isn't real. He knows it's wrong, he knows it isn't healthy, but he holds on tightly to the slipping threads of his memory, scared to death for when it all inevitably fades away.

 "Open your eyes," a voice gently urges him.

 Marco exhales.

"It's okay Marco, everything going to be all right," Ace says, even though it's a fabricated lie.

Marco inhales.

He opens his eyes. There's nothing left but cold ocean water and the stars above him. Ace's absence is expected, but it's heartbreaking all the same.

It was hard to stand back up, his energy having been sapped away with the greedy touches of the ocean. But he's going to live, if not for himself, then he'll live for Ace. After all, no one knows everything about the Grand Line.

Maybe, they'll meet again one day.

Until then, he'll take what he can get from his ghostly, lingering touches.

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