Title: Pick Me Up

Fandom: One Piece

Universe: AU / AR

Pairing: Smoker x Ace

Warnings: My sad attempt at writing descripti-sex. If you are a wee one, or are too emotionally immature / unstable / OMFGURUINMYFAVDEWDSWITGHEY, then please refrain from reading. If you must torment yourself and read through anyway, please remember that I warned your masochistic ass, and refrain from bitching at me. ...On second thought, please, bitch at me, it gives me something to smile at.

Disclaimer: This shit still ain't mine. I'm poor, yo.

A/N: Well, look what we have here. My first posted attempt at Smoker x Ace, and my first shot at a descriptive lemon, all wrapped up in one big, shiny post-package.

Pick Me Up

(The Horribibble One)

"Ufff." Ace grunted as he was laid out flat. The pain washed from his tailbone and gripped at his back and shoulders. "Son of a bitch, Marco!" He growled.

"What'samatter, Ace?" His blonde friend taunted from somewhere amidst the grand Upright, "I thought you liked a little rough play."

"Biting my hot spots and clotheslining me are two completely different things!" He threw his arms up, as if he were arguing his case before G-d and everybody.

"It's a pick-up match!"

"It's soccer!" Ace cried, finally propping himself up on his elbows despite the nasty way the world was rocking. And suddenly the laughter stopped—well, except for Luffy's. The little nutjob was too busy rolling in the grass, struggling to maintain bladder control. For one brief moment, Ace hoped he got fleas.

But then, he'd probably be the one stuck giving the kid a flea bath. He turned his muzzy head to glare at his brother, but the irate look dissolved into panic as he spotted the very void that had sucked up all the noise.

Oh, shit.

Ace let himself collapse back onto the turf, little tufts of grass flying here and there as he resigned himself to his fate.

"Hey, Smokes."

"That's Smoker. Sir, to you, brat. What's going on here?" The big mass of a man growled, and the assembled students took up an appropriately terrified shiver.

Thus entered Logan C. Smoker, head of the school disciplinary committee and walking nightmare of anyone prone to spontaneity and rowdiness. The man was borderline misanthropic.

And he had it in for Ace.

"Nothin' much," Ace grinned from his prone position, his toothy expression faltering only for a moment as the heavy footfalls drew closer, "I was just takin' a minute to look at the sky."

"In the middle of a pick-up match."

"Ee-yep." He nearly added a, 'that against the rules?', but decided he liked his teeth where they were.

The footfalls came to a stop, and all of a sudden Smoker's face was upside down in Ace's field of vision. Yeesh. It hurt to see.

"You're bleeding."

So that's what that wet stuff was.

Ace reached up to feel the oozing stuff, his hand drawing away red. He made a face and vigorously shook his hand as if trying to get the offending stickiness off of his fingers.

"Yich!"

Smoker rolled his eyes before reaching down to grasp the rambunctious teen's forearm—right over the bandages that hid his 'botched' tattoo during school hours, "Come on. I'm taking you to the infirmary."

Ace didn't have a chance to protest as he was hauled up by Smoker's big hand. He just tossed a nasty look at Marco before his captor dragged him out of sight.

The next thing Ace knew, he was being slammed up against the inner infirmary door and there was a hand down his pants.

"Rough play, huh?" Smoker growled, pressing a muscular thigh between the slighter man's legs.

"Hhhmmm," Ace arched, grinding against the intruding leg briefly before looking arch-browed up at the disciplinary head, "How did you hear that?"

Smoker's eyes narrowed, "Your little friend Feure has a big damn mouth." The hand in his pants tightened its grip on his burgeoning erection, and the bigger man pressed closer, equal parts seduction and intimidation. "How the hell did he know that?"

Ace's breathing came ragged as Smoker persisted in riling him up, "He's my friend. He-ah-we t-tell ea-d-damn it!" He reached up, wrapping slim, powerful arms around broad shoulders and grasping at soft, silvery-white hair.

"I noticed," Smoker sneered, his free hand moving to Ace's backside and pushing him closer, pulling a needy whine from the dark-haired boy, "I'm used to cleaning up after your sorry asses. Give me a damn migraine..."

And there it was, that bandit-charm 'guess what I just blew up (and I'll blow you)' grin.

Ace pulled Smoker's torso nearly flush against his own. "I've been bad, huh?" He nipped at the cartilage of the bigger man's ear before running the tip of his tongue from shell to lobe, grazing his teeth here and there.

Finally, Smoker groaned, tightening his hold.

"Mm," Ace panted, taking one arm from around the disciplinarian to join the hand in his pants, guiding Smoker into motion and rocking gently into the grip, "You gonna punish me, Sir?"

"Damn brat." He growled, hoisting the boy up with little effort and carrying him to the bed.

Ace couldn't hold back a breathy laugh as his older partner joined him on the rickety frame, extracting a protesting groan from the springs.

He was quick to outdo himself with a louder groan from Ace.

It wasn't very often that Smoker took his younger lover in his mouth. The act in itself wasn't something he particularly enjoyed—at least, not the way Ace did—but the reactions he could pull from the freckled man were worth any amount of work.

Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

"Mm...ahhn." Ace rocked his hips up, one hand tangling in soft, pale hair as the other settled on a broad shoulder, fisting in the fabric of the bigger man's jacket. He tugged at the material with a little whine.

The older man pulled up, running his tongue along the underside of the boy's erection before pressing a kiss to the head, "Somethin' wrong, Portgas?"

"Too many layers," Ace panted softly, his tugging just a bit more purposeful now that he wasn't distracted, "It isn't fair."

Go figure.

Smoker grinned, sharp and nearly evil as he looked up the length of the boy's body, one eyebrow quirked, "That what you wanted me to stop for?"

"I...just..."

As much as he might tease the boy for it, it pleased Smoker to no end that Ace was so tactile. Sure, it got irritating sometimes—like when he absolutely insisted on touching the man while he was in the middle of reading over committee reports. Not groping. Just touching.

It was such a strange quirk for such a seemingly cocky boy to be so physically needy, but it worked in his favor, ultimately. It was that little quirk that kept Smoker from strangling him for his overconfidence.

For this reason, Smoker decided to work with him, just a little.

"You want it off?" One corner of his lips tilted up as he rose to shrug out of his trademark jacket, his eyes staying locked with Ace's.

Ace managed to flex his stomach into a hands-free situp, weaseling his hands under his older lover's shirt as he set about mapping the other man's neck with his lips.

"Mm." Smoker rumbled, taking hold of Ace's erection again and brushing the pad of his thumb over the sensitive head, "Aren't you easy to please?"

"Yes, Sir." Ace answered in a breathy voice that brushed over all the right nerve endings as it traveled straight to the seat of the older man's pants.

"Fuck, you little bastard." He growled, nipping at the shell of his partner's ear.

"We got enough time for that?"

"We'll find out, won't we?"

Smoker could feel Ace's teeth as he grinned into his neck before warm, calloused hands delved into the back of his pants, sliding them down his backside with practiced ease, "C'mon, baby, hurry up."

The older man was quick to obey, shifting briefly to rid himself of his pants before adjusting himself again. Ace pressed looked him up and down with a lewd little smile before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "No underwear. I am rubbing off on you."

"Not yet, you aren't." Smoker growled before pinning him back onto the cot and kissing and nipping his way down a tanned column of flesh.

Ace shivered as teeth passed over his jugular before pausing just before a peaked nipple. There, Smoker bit and sucked, mercilessly intent on leaving a mark, but stopping just short of drawing blood. The strangled moan Ace let out was worth it, up until the boy clapped a hand over his mouth.

Smoker fought back the urge to grin. It looked like the brat finally remembered where they were. It gave the light-haired man a sick sense of victory to see the boy so desperately trying to 'follow the rules'.

Another hard nip drew a needy whimper, and Smoker moved down to give his nipple a somewhat more delicate treatment.

The sounds this boy made were enough to drive him crazy. As Ace took one shaking hand from his mouth to stroke through Smoker's hair, he realized he might well be, already. It was the way the boy needed him, begged without asking—worshipped him with trembling arrogance and shy, twitchy fingers.

He stole affection, when he could, and Smoker made a point of leaving the doors and windows unlocked.

He paused for a moment, pressing soft, almost uncharacteristically gentle kisses to the boy's faintly quivering abs as he considered whether he should continue this treatment or move on to the main event.

They were, after all, operating on a limited time frame.

The dark-haired boy decided it for him, releasing his mouth in favor of a strong shoulder and arching into chapped lips with a desperate, "Logan."

And Smoker lost it.

He rose again, covering the slightly smaller male with his greater bulk, and pressed a quick, rough kiss to his lips.

"This'll hurt." He grunted, running a calloused palm down a toned leg before hitching it up over his waist and positioning himself. It hadn't been but a day or two since their last little play date, so Smoker wasn't too concerned. He would never intentionally put the boy through that much unnecessary pain.

But Marco had said...

Ace's eyes flashed,"Promise?"

Short seconds later, Smoker was pressing inside, pushing past tight muscle, taking care not to cause too much damage. The boy had to finish out the day, at least, and he'd rather not feed the damn rumor mill.

Still...

Ace threw his head back, letting out a near-feral scream, and Smoker was quick to catch it in his mouth, keeping their lips pressed tight until he was fully seated and relishing in the string of whimpers and whines the boy granted him.

The disciplinary head pulled back scant centimeters from his mouth before rasping, "Quiet."

A quick bob of the head, and Ace returned one hand to his mouth, leaving the other to reach under the larger man's arm and grip his shoulder in a desperate press.

He was enjoying this, no mistake.

It would be a bold faced lie to say that Smoker was not relieved.

And then came the in-and-out—the slow, burning friction that Ace loved, and that Smoker loved giving to him. Gradually picking up speed, but still watching like a hawk for each and every varied expression on his lover's face.

The muffled sounds escaping around the edges of his fingers, struggling up to meet him were like pure notes of euphoria.

Fuck, he needed this.

"Mm." He groaned, indulging himself as a pronounced jerk in the boy's frame squeezed him tight. The movement continued, in and out, brushing against the boy's most sensitive place.

Again, Smoker leaned in, keeping up his pace as he wrapped the other leg around his own powerful hips. "Touch yourself." He rasped again, close to a flushed ear, before taking the hand stifling Ace's moans and guiding it to the boy's erection.

"I—aa-ah!"

"I'll bet." Smoker grinned, sharp and daring, before taking back those lips.

The boy was an inferno inside, and Smoker felt as if he were burning up. The tightening inside the of the boy's nether regions and the wet, hot slide inside of his mouth were almost enough to drag him into insensibility.

Instead, he pulled his mouth away, placing a wet, messy kiss just at the corner of his lips before pressing their foreheads together.

"C'mon, brat. Wanna see you come."

It wasn't instantaneous, but it was remarkably close.

Ace's pupils dilated as his body tensed, his throat working as he struggled to breathe. The silence lasted only briefly before a sound somewhere between a scream and a sob ripped itself from his throat.

His muscles contracted powerfully as he clung to the older man for dear life, painting both toned stomachs with the evidence of his completion.

"Yes!...a-ahhh..." He sighed, relaxing as Smoker returned the grip, losing himself inside of his partner with a long, drawn out groan before collapsing on top of him, face buried in Ace's shoulder.

For a moment, there was blissful silence before that old, cocky tone melted butter-warm back into his ears.

"So how're we gonna clean this one up, Sir?"

Smoker couldn't help but laugh.

Smoker still had no idea how to patch up a head wound.

Ace went home with his head wrapped in gauze, his hair sticking up every which way, and the dumbest grin anyone had ever seen plastered on his face.

He almost didn't want to kick Marco's ass, the next time he saw him.

Almost.

A/N: Well, there you have it. My first, terrifying attempt, at a descriptive lemon. Please, shoot me now. Usually, I have trouble writing up the dirty stuff. This time, I sat in the meeting hall at my college and typed this one out. ...I feel baaaaad. o.o Also, I forgot to read through for errors, so this thing is subject to renovation.

Anyway, updates should be coming soon for all of the good little boys and girls who have still, mercifully, let me live. Promise. I just have midterms coming up, so you know...I'll probably procrastinate on studying, post a bitchload of chapters, and then have three nervous breakdowns.

Glorytastic, yo.

Psst. Review and tell me how much you love my neurotic ass. It makes me feel special.