Chapter Text
Two states away from Ace's home. Not far enough, if you ask him. The past few days have been a blur, resting and eating and filling up on gas and telling Smoker things about home that Ace knows he's just pitying him more for.
Ace sees how Smoker looks at him, like he's the runt of the litter at a shelter, the last to be adopted. He knows Smoker is only doing this to feel better about himself, but Ace can't bring himself to care. Anything to get away from home.
In a way, Ace thinks, Smoker is similar to his brothers. He sees the way Smoker looks at his body when he exits the shower, how he watches the sweat drip from Ace's forehead when he can't get the truck's air to work. It's not malicious like they were, sure, but the closer the two of them get, the more Ace can tell what he's thinking.
He knows half of Smoker's uncertainty about him comes from Ace's gender. The man is obviously curious, and Ace can't be upset at him for that. If it's anything like Ace's home where Smoker is from, men like him aren't common. Ace only learned through one of Marco's magazines, an issue that found itself in the trash much quicker than the previous months'. In a way, he just wanted to be anything but a girl. Thought that if he was a man, well, Teach's not a queer, Marco isn't either, maybe it would all stop.
He did find some happiness in strangers calling him "sir", though it was always cut short by a glare from Marco or a loud correction from Teach. Either way, when he cut his hair short, men stopped referring to him as a "beautiful young lady".
Ace thinks Thatch was a queer. He wonders if Smoker is one, too. Judging by the rosary hanging from his rear-view mirror, he doesn't think so, but the Bible behind the bench seat is covered in an even layer of dust.
Ace isn't sure what he is. He's never really considered a life where he gets to choose who he fucks. Sometimes he thinks he may have had a crush on Deuce, but he's long gone now. Maybe it was just because he was nice. Ace thinks he would like just about anyone who treats him nicely.
–
This night, Ace has hardly slept at all. The motel was exceptionally cheap this time, which he and Smoker quickly learns is because of there only being one bed. Ace had insisted to sleep in the floor, offering Smoker the only bed as a means of repaying him. Smoker, ever the saint, refused until Ace begged him to take it.
A cot on the floor fashioned out of his own dirty clothes is, unsurprisingly, very uncomfortable.
Looking at the clock on the side table, it's only six in the morning. The sun will be coming up soon. Ace doubts he'll be able to go back to sleep.
The blinds are broken and partially open because of it, a streetlamp shining indirectly into the room. It conceals the yellowness of the wallpaper, undoubtedly from years of people smoking inside. Something that Smoker's contributed to during their stay as well. Ace sits at the end of the bed Smoker occupies, and reaches for the remote to the budget TV sloppily mounted by shelf onto the wall.
He hastily turns down the volume, not wanting to wake Smoker up so early. He has a habit of sleeping in, which has cut their days particularly short on occasion. Smoker really dislikes driving in the dark. Hopefully the light from the television doesn't wake him.
Ace flips through the channels, mostly shopping networks and infomercials st this hour interrupted by movies he's seen bits and pieces of at home. When mashing the channel up button gets too repetitive, he opens the guide.
It's all what he expected, the same garbage repeating on the majority of the channels. He scrolls down to the very bottom.
The titles of the pay-per-view porn videos catch his eye, titles similar to the tapes Teach left sitting out in the living room. Ace could never understand the appeal, or maybe he was disgusted by the idea of Teach watching them, what he would do while watching them. Clearly it wasn't even good enough to satiate him, the greedy bastard.
Curious, he presses OK on one of them without paying much mind to the contents. He reads the words 'hardcore' and 'brutalized' in the title, and wonders if it'll show up on the bill when they check out. Smoker will probably be disgusted with him and leave him alone in the middle of Indiana, Ace thinks.
He watches the poor pornstar being roughly handled by a faceless man, and he wonders if she's just as used to this as Ace is. There's a good career for him, if only he wasn't so scarred up. Maybe that would be preferable for this genre, though.
Despite the attempts to make the woman appear cheap, Ace recognizes the motifs on her jewelry as similar to pieces Teach owned. Maybe they weren't as luxury as he initially thought. He thinks back to the extra bits of money they had in his childhood, and how it stopped coming in after Ace turned thirteen. Teach did seem a little bit nicer back then, though the details are hazy.
Ace feels a bit guilty for thinking the way he does, noting to himself things that he would do better if that were him on the screen. He thinks about Thatch's gentle corrections and he feels sick. Thatch makes him sick.
Morbid curiosity strikes him again, turning around to ensure Smoker's asleep. The older man snores lightly, and Ace's finger presses the volume up button exactly three times. The woman on the screen gags like she's about to vomit. Ace is reminded of the times he would be hunched over the bathtub, fingers that weren't his own jammed down his throat. That's one thing he certainly couldn't do any better.
Ace looks at what little of the room is visible onscreen. He always assumed these types of videos would take place in a dungeon or something, a concrete room with no windows. He feels seen by her. Her bra and the pillows on the couch are all printed with hibiscus patterns. Ace has always liked those. He thinks he'd like to decorate his home like that if he ever gets one.
Smoker makes a sound behind him, and Ace rushes to mute the television again. It was an idiotic decision anyways. Ace knows what someone having their mouth violated sounds like, he doesn't need the TV to teach him.
"Kid?" Ace's blood runs cold. Smoker's awake, he's awake and he's going to be disgusted with Ace, he's going to abandon him here. Ace can hear him sit up, his voice still hoarse from sleep when he speaks. "The fuck are you watchin'?"
Ace won't turn to look him in the eye. He just watches the screen, how the woman's strawberry blonde hair gets nearly tugged out of her scalp by the man dominating her. Ace can only assume that Smoker is looking at him, with how adverse he is to the naked human body. Ace wonders where Smoker would look if he stripped in front of the man.
Maybe that's what Smoker's imagining. Envisioning himself as the man and Ace as the woman, like how Teach said he would do often. It feels cruel to compare the two with how kind Smoker is, but Ace can't help but think men of his kind are the same in some ways. Teach's friends certainly were the same.
The bed creaks, and Smoker is sitting at the edge of the bed, his bare legs directly to Ace's left. He's awfully pale. He leans down to look at the floor (to look for the remote to turn this off, Ace guesses) but to no avail. Ace hides the remote under his thighs.
"Turn that shit off, Ace. Go back to sleep." Smoker doesn't seem too concerned about Ace watching it in the first place or the idea that he paid for it on Smoker's dime. Maybe he hasn't even considered it, addled by sleep still. It seems Ace misjudged how he would react entirely.
Smoker is watching the screen.
Ace doesn't know how intently he's watching, if he's just trying to process what Ace put on or if he's really putting his mind to it. It's times like these that make him wish Smoker was easier to understand. He doesn't voice his feelings often. But even with the light coming off of the TV hardly being enough to illuminate the room, Ace can still see how Smoker's face tints red when the man in the video covers the woman's freckles with his sperm.
It ends, or rather starts from the beginning. Ace wonders if it'll charge Smoker again. That seems like an easy way to generate revenue. Smoker's tipped his head back, eyes closed, trying to save himself from any further embarrassment. It reminds Ace of the way Thatch would do the same when Ace would pleasure him. He's made uneasy by the wires crossing in his brain.
"Do you want to have sex with me?" It comes out easier than Ace expected. It's an accusation, not an offer, but Ace will do anything to keep Smoker's perception of him positive.
Smoker's dead silent. Ace can feel his eyes boring into the back of his head. Looking him in the eye right now would be giving the both of them too much satisfaction.
"I see how you look at me." Ace is sure Smoker's brows are furrowed in confusion right about now. He still won't look. The woman even has little hibiscuses on her nails. How sweet.
"Ace-" Smoker clears his throat. He's nervous. He's mentioned a woman before, maybe a female friend. She didn't seem like a partner from the way Smoker talked about her. Ace wonders if they've had sex. "It's six thirty. Get back to sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us."
"Do you want to have sex with me?" Ace doubts he'll get an answer this time, either. Smoker puts a hand on his head and Ace flinches. Expects him to grab on tight, in sync with the video.
Maybe it's instinctual when Ace turns around and rests his head on Smoker's thigh. It's soft with muscle underneath, and the rest of him appears to be that way too. Ace never took the time to look at his body, though the other had become comfortable enough to start sleeping in his boxers around Ace a few nights ago. Coarse hair pricks his cheek.
It certainly sounds like pleading now, at least in Ace's ears. He curses himself for it. He did say he wanted to pay Smoker back somehow, though he denied it vehemently. That was before Smoker really knew him.
"You don't have to do this," Smoker nearly coos towards Ace, too comforting for the way his pupils dilate. It's all the proof Ace needs. "I don't want to use you."
"But you want to fuck me."
Smoker ruffles Ace's hair gently. It feels like another silent affirmation. Ace would prefer a little more honesty from the man over being babied.
Ace pulls himself away from Smoker's touch, quickly discarding his shirt. Just as he thought, Smoker's eyes dart towards his chest and then away. He shimmies himself out of his shorts and plants himself next to Smoker on the bed. Smoker swallows harshly, nearly audible.
Does Smoker even know he has all the power in this situation? He has Ace's entire life in his hands. He's got to be either a coward or extremely strong-willed for not acting on his desires. Any other man in Ace's life would just go and take him.
Ace grabs Smoker's wrist and places his hand firmly on his breast. The older hesitates, noticing the scars littering Ace's chest for, apparently, the very first time. Ace can practically see him trying to figure out what caused them, probably assuming it was one of his brothers. Ace doesn't tell him that they were from himself.
Smoker's large compared to Ace, comparatively a whole lot more meat on his bones. Ace would like to try the cooking that got him that way one of these days. His hand is ice cold against Ace's bare chest, Ace's body heat making the man melt into him.
"Maybe-" Smoker mumbles, just enough that Ace can hear. His indirectness disgusts Ace just as much as Smoker being direct would. Being wanted is a horrible thing. "I don't want to hurt you." Ace just can't wrap his head around it.
Another cold hand touches Ace, resting on his thigh. Petting him gently. Ace feels like an animal. Something in his stomach stirs, something he hasn't felt in a very long time. He ignores it the best he can, but it's growing to feel unbearable. His face gets warm. Ace can't recall the last time he's felt embarrassed like this. His brothers only make him feel scared. Humiliation feels different than this. He could get used to this, the more he thinks about it.
Ace leans in to kiss Smoker, something he's only really seen in the movies. Nobody else would be so kind. When his face nears Smoker's, he almost throws up in his mouth. He doesn't like the thought of someone else's tongue in his mouth, too big and invading. Smoker must have seen him gag, because he redirects his attention to Ace's neck, pecking at him reverently. For all the places Ace's been touched, he's never been kissed there. It feels like Smoker is trying to eat him alive.
Smoker's hand still rests awkwardly on Ace's breast, Ace assumes he's too scared to do anything further. Like anything he could do would hurt Ace. All it does is frustrate him. He wants to tell Smoker to man up, get on with it. Maybe it would get him mad enough to actually do something.
He doesn't think he wants Smoker to stop.
It feels like ages before Smoker's hand moves again, further than the absent-minded petting of a few minutes ago. It's cold as it shifts to settle between Ace's legs, and Smoker hums into his shoulder as if he's satisfied with what he's found. Ace supposes it wouldn't be too much of a shock at this point. His breath hitches and his fingers ball up in the sheets.
Big, blunt fingers circle Ace's clit, gentle pressure he's only felt from another person a few times. Putting another face to that sensation makes him want to hurl. He looks intently at Smoker instead. He's hard. Ace wonders just how long it'll take until he succumbs to his own need and gives up on pleasing him.
Once Ace starts to whine and shake, that's when Smoker withdraws. Ace is shocked it even took that long. May be a new record among all of the men that'd had him.
Smoker moves to his knees at the end of the bed, where Ace was sitting not too long ago. They've traded places. Ace certainly feels like something's shifted. Smoker pecks at Ace's thighs like he did to his neck, his hands refusing to grip onto Ace too tightly. It doesn't feel secure, the grasp Smoker has on him. Ace's stomach churns yet again.
Ace closes his eyes so tight he can hear rumbling in his ears. He can't bring himself to open them to look at Smoker now, but he knows well enough what's being done to him. It feels like his entire lower body is being consumed entirely. If he lets go of the sheets, he may claw Smoker's scalp straight off. Pushing or pulling, he's not sure, all he's sure of is that it feels good. Maybe this is how the man in the video felt. Maybe this is how his brothers felt. This is something he could get used to.
His stomach tenses as warmth washes over him in one big wave, thighs flexing around Smoker's head hard enough to crush. He suctions himself to Ace for a few seconds more before pulling away, breathing ragged. Ace collapses backwards, dizzy, and the bed dips down beside him. He flinches, but the rest of the world is blocked out for the time being, hardly focusing on anything at all.
The warmth fades away and Ace is aware now that Smoker is holding onto him. He's surely halfway off the bed, with his size and Ace laying in the middle, but he should have no trouble moving Ace. Something tells him Smoker would be content hanging halfway off like this if it meant Ace got the rest of the bed.
He doesn't sleep long, but he gets some of the best sleep he's had in a while.