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

October 5th

 Warnings: An abstract mess

Disclaimer: One Piece, its characters, and its plot, all belong to Eiichiro Oda. I do not own them.

Notes: This will probably be the weirdest rendition of Marco's birthday you'll have ever read, but oh well. Also, this isn't the one I was looking forward to, but after looking up Marco's birthday, I got a bit suspicious? Like what was Oda thinking, is it supposed to be super important? Anyways, it's a little weird this time, but I hope you have fun with it <3

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Marco knows he's dreaming straight from the get-go. He knows when he's dreaming, because his dreams have always followed a distinct set of rules, they're rules that have yet to be broken by anything and everything except for one thing. He has no doubts they'll make an appearance sooner or later, but for now he warily observes the bar.

 He knows this bar, he knows it since forcibly engraving this moment into his memory.  The tablecloths are tacky, horrendous shades of blue and yellow that Marco pointedly ignores. Marco's gaze slips past the pineapple and the torn banner, hanging from the beams on the ceiling with abnormal desperation. He disregards the food, also screaming thousands of different shades of blues and yellows. Cerulean, azure, cornflower, indigo, electric- blonde, canary, flaxen, amber, and straw- blue and yellow, yellow and blue.

Whenever he dreams, his dreams always follow a distinct set of rules, they're rules that have yet to be broken by anything and everything except for one thing. The only thing that catches Marco's eye, his dangerous ocean eye, is the man in the corner who dons a hat that happens to be orange instead of yellow.

He is the outlier, the mystery haunting Marco's dreams day in and day out. The man is always shifting his eyes away from Marco before he can make eye contact with him. It's like he's hiding from him, but Marco's brain logically reasons that this is silly, because the man is hidden in plain sight and- he's wearing an orange hat.

Usually, Marco will whittle away his time by trying and failing to catch their eye, until he wakes up with the faint imprint of orange on his eyelids.

Now, the man's eyes, slowly draw up to meet Marco's, and all of the air's been sucked out of the room as if Marco's been drowned in sea water. They begin walking out of the corner, with abrupt steel in their stance, walking with an air of confidence that he would've never associated with them. Their gaze is locked on Marco's and he still can't tell what color they're supposed to be.

He gasps for air when their chests collide and two hands wrap around the back of his neck to pull them closer together. Their noses touch, and their lips are only a hair shy away from a kiss. Under the brim of Ace's orange hat, he feels safe. Content, even. It's a strange thing to feel and-

"Yellow and blue," they whisper against his lips. 

Marco blinks slowly, his mind struggling out of a fog. "Blue... and orange."

They laugh, shaking in Marco's hold- he's holding him now? Their nose briefly brushes against his cheek, and it's like a current of electricity shakes him awake from that mere touch of skin.

"No, that's me!" Ace corrects him.

"... and I'm, yellow and blue?" Marco wonders aloud.

Ace hums inconclusively, now burying his face in the crook of Marco's shoulder. "Yeah, isn't it funny?"

"I don't know what's so funny about it," Marco replies quietly, not quite understanding why he's so dissatisfied with everything, why the blue and the yellow are now screaming warning signs.

Ace lifts his head, and Marco misses a warmth he's known was never real to begin with.

"Yellow and blue, what do they mean, Marco," Ace says, restating their unspoken question. His eyes are locked with Marco's once more. They used to be grey. 

"They're lucky'" Marco tells them, his shoulders now starting to slump with an unforeseen weight.

"October 5th," Ace says, and they're leaving Marco's grip. His hat is no longer on top of his head.

"Maru-co, it means October 5th..." Marco thinks quietly, sadly, and everything is moving in slow motion now that Ace is gone, akin to that of sea water.

"Yellow and blue are supposed to be lucky colors for October 5th," Ace reaffirms, smiling sadly, slowly fading away into the background.

"Why does that matter though," Marco watches him with grief and- acceptance.

"Why name a man 'October 5th?' Why make the man a Phoenix who's yellow and blue? Something's missing, why else would it be so important...." and his voice echoes and echoes until Marco wakes up.

He wakes up, and he's a Phoenix. He's Marco, he's yellow and blue, and- he's October 5th.

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