Locked to WhiteHunter // Prolly not Mags-safe? IDK

[ace_of_hearts]

So on a scale of 1 to 100, Ace fucked up on an imaginary plane. Yeah.

He trotted along to hunt Smoker down. Stupid fucking arrogant marine. So he'd never hunt Ace down, but Ace always had to find him? He didn't get it. Sometimes that was lonely. What was the point in dating the best hunter in the world if it didn't go both ways? He wanted to sit on a roof and think but he had a feeling Smoker wouldn't come find him. Hell, if it was reversed would Ace go find Smoker...?

Actually. Yes.

But still, that wasn't the point. Smoker wouldn't and they were different people.

"Think like Smoker, think like Smoker," he muttered to himself and walked to the nearest bar. Unless he missed his guess, Smoker was going to drink, pick up a girl, and do everything he could to forget why he bothered spending any amount of time on a stupid freckled fire brat in the first place.

Ace's heart was in a vise. The stronger it pumped, the more it seemed like it was going to get squeezed. A cage or a pair of seastone cuffs wrapped tightly around it. It still beat, but it hurt more than he knew it could.

He saw a man smoking with Smoker's hair color from behind and froze. Whatever he wanted to say wouldn't be enough. Whatever he could do to make up for it... wouldn't be enough. Was he always just kidding himself? Pretending he could be someone who could just be around one person to be happy. Ace was never happy.

He grabbed a seat on the barstool next to the man, calmly ordered a drink and kept his hat low. He spoke up, only barely caring if Smoker heard, forgave him, or left all over again. "Have you ever been so lonely, that sometimes all you can hear is a question about whether you even should have been born?"

Comments

[whitehunter]

The way the firebrand began melting under the ministrations left Smoker smug and happy. It made relax in kind, tension leaving the strong shoulders as if Ace had taken his always warm hands and began to rub the knots in the muscles away. Further along the other's length, Smoker hummed, curling his tongue this way and that, trying to rip the noises from him, as if they belonged to him.

[ace_of_hearts]

Ace mewled more, squirmed about on the sheets, both shying away from the wet heat he didn't deserve, and tentatively edging into it. "Smoker, Smoker, fuck... Smoker..." he panted and arched his back at the tongue curling around him. He twisted his fingers in the sheets even more and wriggled his feet on Smoker's back and shoulders, letting his heels dig in, because Ace didn't think he could focus enough to sit up more even if he tried.