Marco brought you to orgasm with his mouth two more times before he finally agreed to dinner. Wrapping you in blankets he set you on the thick rug in front of the fireplace, letting you lean up against him as the two of you had some rice balls.

After you ate, you rode him in front of the fireplace, caught between the firelight and Marco's flames.

Then he took you over the armrest of the couch because you didn't quite make it back into the bedroom fast enough for the next round.

And then on the dining table, the remnants of a second small meal stained against your skin because feeding him by hand, had gotten out of hand.

It was harried and desperate, greedy and frantic. There wasn't enough time in the night to grant you all you wanted, but you both seemed to try and make it work anyway. The details were a hazy mess of pleasure and giggles - terrible jokes and mouths that gave pleasure better than they did puns.

Afterward you took a bath that almost turned into another round before you fell asleep tangled in one another's limbs.

Waking up in the morning was surreal. You weren't used to sharing a bed, and the warmth was making it difficult to wake up. When your eyes finally cooperate with you and open up, your face goes red almost immediately.

The calm, hooded gaze of your lover catches your sleepy gaze, and he smiles softly as you flush before his eyes. Leaning forward he kisses your forehead.

"'Mornin', little warrior." He hums, the tenor of his voice rolling around in his chest and purring against your body.

You were chest to chest, tucked in against Marco with your head just at his collarbone. His arm was tucked under your head, more pillow than your pillow was, and his other hand was against your waist, moving up and down slowly now that you were awake.

The expression on his face was more flustering than anything the two of you had done last night.

He very gently nuzzles against your head, urging you to look up, and when you do he steals a quick kiss. The smile on his lips is infectious and you're smiling too, giving him another kiss as you shift and wince a little.

Your muscles are stiff and sore, not just from the fun last night, but from snuggling into an immovable space-heater and sleeping like a log throughout the night, and into most of the morning.

Marco's fingers press into your skin a little and you can feel a soothing warmth from his fingertips.

"I can't heal much," he murmurs, "but I can ease some of that ache, yoi."

"You'd make a killing as a personal trainer, or massage therapist." You hum, squirming enough to enjoy the soft cracks down your spine as Marco's hand travels. "Oh I could get used to this." Relaxing, you sink into him, letting your face smush into his chest as he lessens all your little aches and pains.

"Waking up like this might be the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten." He hums and you feel the blood rush through you again at the sentiment.

Smooth bastard. You pout internally.

"Well, your actual gift is in my bag," you admit. "I'd like to give it to you privately, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Let's get breakfast and then exchange gifts." He offers, tossing aside the covers. He untangles himself from you, and then shifts and cages you under him for a moment, pressing kisses into your shoulder and down your arm.

"We'll never make it to breakfast if you do that." You tease, turning onto your stomach.

"We could skip going up to the big house." He says it jokingly, and you laugh.

"Marco! Such an irresponsible-hhaaaa!" Your body curls a little as he leans down and nips at your shoulder, kissing down your back. He licks, kisses and drags his teeth down your spine, chasing the sweet sounds you make from the sensations that were a mix of ticklish and pleasurable. "M-m-maaaaarco..." You whine his name, the delicious teasing tearing away at your resolve.

"Another sweet gift." He murmurs into your skin before having mercy and getting the rest of the way up. "I'll get breakfast going, but take your time."

"Mmhm." You mumble into the pillow. Going to the manor for Christmas might be the single largest display of willpower ever. You should get a pretty gold sticker star just for being willing to leave this bed right now.

You make short use of the bathroom, realizing you're a bit raw internally as much as externally. Marco soothed a lot of the aches, but you hadn't gotten that physical in a long time.

You brush your teeth, brush your hair, get dressed... kind of.

You got on a fresh bra and underwear, but you pause looking at the clothes available and decide that Marco isn't the only one who can be a cheeky and tempting little bastard. Picking up his sweater, and being grateful he took it off at the start of the night, you put it on. It smells a little of cologne, citrus and cinnamon, and a warm scent that you swear is just how Marco always smells.

The hem goes down about halfway to your knees, and the sleeves are way too long, but the thick knit neck is warm and fluffy. You can hear him cooking in the kitchen, soft music being played from one of the speakers that was in there.

You step out of the bedroom and sit down at the little breakfast bar that's barely big enough for one, watching him move around. He's got a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on, and frankly you don't know which one of you is being more unfair to the other.

"One eggs or two, pr-." Marco pauses when he looks over, face flushing red so quick he has to look away.

"Two." You answer evenly, grin stretched wide across your lips. "And stay in the kitchen, fineapple."

"Didn't you bring a change of clothes?" He questions, clearing his throat as he returns to cooking breakfast.

"I did." You admit. "I didn't want to get all dolled up so early, and this is very comfy."

He barks a single laugh, ears still red. "I'm glad it is. Do a lil' twirl for me, yoi?"

"Only if you promise to stay in the kitchen." You say, sticking your tongue out.

"I will, I will. No more shenanigans until you ask me." He promises.

The idea of having to ask him for it makes your face flush a bit, but you get up and do a little twirl for him. You blow him a kiss when you come back around to face him, and then lift the front up and flash your panties at him before dropping the hem back down.

"That was mean," he grumbles, crouching down at the oven for a moment before straightening back up.

"I'll make it up to you." You hum, and hear him groan for a different reason.

"Go sit at the table, I'm almost done, yoi." He says, turning off the burner for one of the skillets as the toaster dings.

"Aye, aye," you sing the words, prancing over to the table, not worrying about whether or not he's looking. It's fun just to be so unbothered first thing in the morning. The small aches from the night before are a welcome pain, honestly, given how you'd earned them. There's no need to rush as the morning crawls along, and you can just enjoy the quiet moments.

"I meant to ask this last night, but I thought you were going to cook dinner for me." You hum as he brings two plates to the table.

"That was the plan, yoi." He answers with a smile, setting the plates down before going back and getting two cups of coffee. "But I had the rice balls and charcuterie as backups, in case, well, in case what happened happened." He grins.

"I could make what's in there tonight, we don't have to-."

"Ah, ah, bap, bah - no. No. Don't tempt me Edward Marco." You interrupt and he smiles in response. "Mom would murder me if I came out here for the holidays and missed the holiday."

"With everything else that's happened I think she'd cut you some slack." He retorts. "I mean, hospitalization sure, but not death."

You stop mid-motion of taking another bite and laugh. "Covered in bandages, in traction, get well soon cards made by the boys."

"No fruit basket though."

"Of course not," you mutter, covering your mouth. Swallowing hastily, you laugh. "Luffy would've eaten it for me."

"Where does he put it all?"

"I don't know. I told Dadan he's got a black hole in his leg. Just like I did at that age."

"Eating around you was more dangerous than eating at home, yoi."

"I grew out of it, at least." You shrug. "I couldn't even tell you why I was so beastly when it came to food. Probably cause my little feral ass was found in the backwoods."

"That story's true?" He prompts and you nod.

"If it's not then I don't know what the truth is. S'all mom ever said was the story." Having cleared your plate you push it away and cup the coffee mug between your hands. "Half-starved, she thought I was delirious with fever and wasn't going to make it through the night."

You didn't have to say anything else. You and Marco had already talked about this stuff when you were younger. Wondering who your biological parents were, why you ended up with a different family, what had happened to them. It wasn't even a matter of knowing if you were wanted by them or not, you both had loving families and you were happy.

It was a matter of just wanting to know.

You wave the topic aside. "Let me go get your gift."

You go into the bedroom where Marco had left your bag, and rummage around a little as you hear him collecting plates and rinsing them off in the sink. You find the small envelope you were looking for and bring it back out to the living room. Sitting on the armrest of the couch you hand it to him when he comes over.

"Haruta, Thatch and Vista helped me." You say as he opens it and finds the airplane ticket inside. "All your responsibilities are covered while you're staying with me. If... you want to, of course." You admit a little sheepishly, clearing your throat.

Marco puts the ticket back in the envelope and carefully sets it down before lifting you off the arm of the couch. You yelp in surprise, laughing as he wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you in for a kiss. Cupping his face to steady yourself you lean in and kiss him half a dozen times as he spins in lazy circles around the small living room.

"A good gift then?" You hum and he kisses you again.

"I was worried I was pushing too hard," he admits as you nuzzle in close, hiding your face against his neck before he can start saying embarrassing things. "Having you gift me the right to come stay with you in the city is almost a better gift than waking up next to you this morning."

"I knew you were going to say something embarrassing." You mumble into his neck, kissing against his throat a few times before he sets you back down.

"Thank you," he says, kissing you once more before he grabs a box from the TV stand and hands it to you. It's small, like a jewelry box.

Opening it up there was a delicate, and beautifully intricate, necklace. It was a muted gold, with a center piece that looked very familiar.

"That's one of the stones from your earrings." You say, looking up and trying to see which one was missing a stone.

"It's technically, both of them." He explains, and when he taps the spherical jewel it lights up in swirls of gold and teal. "They're just pieces of glass to start. I don't know how to explain it, but the devil fruit lets me change that. The earrings just make it easy to do consistently."

"Consistently?"

"It takes a long time to make a jewel like that. As in," he takes the necklace from the box and puts it on you. "This is the only phoenix stone in the whole world."

"That's-!"

Marco wraps his arms around you. "Please." The tone of the single word almost breaks your heart. "Even if things don't work out, even if you'd shown up here with a fiance, and left with them." He explains, stepping back. "I'd still want you to have it."

You put a hand over the precious jewel, and nod. "Yeah... Thank you. Thank you it's," you wipe your eyes, emotions overwhelming you unexpectedly as tears escape your eyes. "It's beautiful. It feels warm too."

He tilts your head up gently, kissing your wet cheeks before kissing your lips softly. "Thank you, pretty bird." You nod as he hands you a tissue.

You take a couple moments to compose yourself. It's such a precious gift you don't really know what to do with it. Which meant wearing it was about the only thing you could do with it. It seemed rude to leave it in a box, and while the jewel itself was mesmerizingly beautiful, it was subtle enough to go with pretty much anything you'd wear.

You didn't want to take it off. Not just because it felt so nice to wear it, but also because it would be much harder to misplace if you just kept it on. You could ask Marco if the chain was sturdy enough to be abused like that. If the gold was mixed with something like titanium, or what have you.

"Now," Marco clears his throat, looking away from you. "We should... you should start getting ready." He says awkwardly, covering his face. "Sorry, I just... if you don't get out of my sweater, pretty bird, I'm going to lose my mind."

You grin deviously even though he's not looking at you right now. "It's probably worse with the neck-."

He interrupts you, peeking down at you from between his fingers.

"It's worse with the necklace, yes."