My scars itch. Slowly, I drag my nails across my eyelid, then shove my red hair back to pull it into a loose ponytail. I get out of bed and check the time, rubbing sleep from my eyes, listening to Mihawk grumble next to me. "SHIT. MIHAWK. TIME TO GET UP." I smack him awake and rush to get ready. Mondays are always hard; weekends are usually 'fun' filled for the peculiarly golden-eyed man and I. One would think we'd learn, but no. Once my trainers are on, I kiss my lover goodbye and rush out. As much as I love the man, I can't wait for his slow ass.
I sprint the whole way to the high school, red ponytail whipping behind me and T-shirt plastered to my chest because of my speed, making it just in time to set up the gym for my lovely, grumpy Mihawk to teach his kendo class. That's the unique course offered at New World High, and Mihawk teaches it in my gym each Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday.
Students file in slowly, and my eyes latch onto the green-haired one Mihawk always gushes over. If you didn't know the guy, you'd think he wasn't impressed. Didn't care. But that isn't the case at all. Roronoa (that's all I know as his name. No first name ever mentioned) is EASILY Mihawk's favorite. I smile and bring out the last of the equipment as Mihawk walks through the door.
"My apologies, class. My girlfriend turned off the alarm before I could wake up." I nearly laugh - loud, at that. I'm the girl, alright. I totally agree, babe. He gets right to teaching and I lay down on the stacked blue and white mats that are against the east wall of the gym to take a quick nap.
An hour or so later, I feel something hard hit my forehead. I shoot up, full alert, the mystery object clattering to the floor. It was a broken practice sword. I look up from the splintering end of the broken sword to see Roronoa bowing respectively (and I can see the redness of his ears from across the gym) as he apologizes profusely to my scornful looking boyfriend. Fucker must be strong if he can break the damn practice sword.
Mihawk sighs audibly and I go into the supplies closet to get another. Handing it to Roronoa, I kiss Mihawk with the attention of the students on the new sword (Naturally, since it's red, all the kids will want it from here on. Doesn't matter; it'll be Roronoa's. It's new so less likely to break). Mihawk doesn't bat an eye at my actions, and I know why; work relationships are rather looked down on here. Especially those of a homosexual nature. Just so long as no one else finds out about Trafalgar and his one student (it's a mutual relationship so I won't speak up about it. Trafalgar seems happy for the first time since he was my student).
I lay back down after discarding the broken sword and sleep for the rest of the class. The bell rings and I'm in a hurry to clean everything up for my next class to play Twice Around. I'm entirely too tired to actually think of something else to do, and they're getting the exercise they need (especially seeing as they're teenage boys - the competitiveness rivals even that of Mihawk).
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Mihawk is the teacher for detention today, and so I have time to go out for groceries. I stop by Bed Bath & Beyond first to grab two small vials; bath and massage oil. I'll hide them in the nightstand until Friday, when I can really pamper him. I shop out the groceries for the week and then head home to make a nice meal for the utterly overworked man. I guess it's because he seems like a scary guy, but he's almost always on detention duty; the only other guy is some new teacher named Teach (really?).
I cook until he's home (he also had to grade some papers he forgot about), greeting Mihawk with a kiss at the door. Very domestic, but whatever. I kinda wanna be that picture perfect 'wife' just for tonight. Mihawk's had a long day, and needs a break - even if it is Monday. After I finish my own plate, I excuse myself and draw the bath for him. He smells, and I make sure to tell him when I get his raised eyebrow upon my re-entry of the dining room.
Something has to be up. Shanks is acting overly kind; and it's only Monday. I am not saying I dislike the treatment; quite the contrary. However, I should probably tell him he won't be getting any sex tonight. I let him talk me into it almost every time, so if I don't say anything… I may not say no later.
"We won't be having sex tonight, Shanks." I raise my eyebrow a bit, in question. Why go to these lengths so early in the week?
"It's not for sex, though it usually would be. Nah, this is just because I wanted to." My eyebrow goes higher. "Alright! Fine! I splurged, okay? You've been working hard lately and you need to relax! Shoot me!" He pouts and I sigh, putting down my fork.
"That won't be necessary. Although… Monday…?" He shrugs.
"Why not?" Fair enough, I suppose. Though it would make much more sense later, when I'm more tired… "Alrighty, then. Get in the tub, you smelly piece of ass."
For some reason, haven't the slightest what it may be, I always get flustered at his so-called 'compliments.' I don't do well with anything like that. With the tips of my ears pink, I put my dishes away after cleaning them (despite all of the red-haired man's complaining).
I head to the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way. I grab a towel from the hall closet and wrap it around my waist so I can put my dirty clothes in the hamper before getting in the tub.
My now bare feet pad along the tile flooring until I arrive at the edge of another one of my lover's "splurges." The expensive tub - complete with jets and whatnot that I still haven't figured out and have too much pride to ask - is nearly all the way full. There's enough space for my body to displace the water - maybe Shanks could fit in as well.
I dip my toes in, and quickly shed the towel. Despite his usual air-headedness, Shanks really does pay attention; even to the smallest details - like how hot I prefer my bath water to be.
Soon I'm sitting in my favorite spot, a jet drumming right against the constantly-reappearing knot just below my shoulder blade. I let out a pleased sigh and completely relax as I hear the dishes being washed in the kitchen. Whatever possessed the red-haired man to spoil me like this should appear more often.
When the dishes are clean I can hear Shanks walking to the bedroom. Even if he joins me at this point, I can't sincerely complain. I sit closer to the jet and it hits the knot dead-on just as the bathroom door opens. My eyes are still closed, and the first thing I notice is the sudden floral scent in the air. An eye merely cracks in my relaxation and I see an oil being dumped into the steaming water.
"I'd meant to keep this for later in the week, but I mean. You're already in the bath." I roll my eyes and sigh.
"You're an impatient man."
"Wow, took you four years to realize that?" I chuckle a bit despite myself as Shanks gets in and moves closer, spilling some water onto the tiled floor and bringing the scent of the oil with him.
"I do like that fragrance, though. May I please see the bottle?" I extend a hand to take it, only to have it pushed back into the water.
"I'm spoiling you. Don't lift a finger." He sits in my lap lightly, bottle in hand to show me. My eyes focus on it as I read the label.
"And if I've got an itch?"
"Obviously I'll get it, Hawk Eyes." I merely roll my "hawk" eyes at the nickname.
"Understood." Back to the oil. "I like the smell. A lot, actually… Please get this more often. I promise I'll only use it if you're present, though." I smile a rare smile and peck his lips, getting a broad grin from him. I don't show affection nearly as much as I think is acceptable, but only because I find it unnecessary. Though, this damned red-haired man has pulled more smiles and whatnot from me in four years than anyone else in the other 39 I've lived. And that's a rate that increases yearly. His cheerfulness is contagious.
Cold shampoo in my hair brings me back from my thoughts, and I hum appreciatively as fingers rub my scalp and lather the soap in my wet black mop. Not too little pressure, not too much. I relax completely, turning to gelatin under this man's fingers. "That good?" He chuckles as I lazily nod my head in response. "Then I'm glad."
Eventually he rinses out the shampoo and leaves in an amazing amount of conditioner. "I like it when your hair's soft," he simply supplies me with. I sigh but leave it, deciding it's not worth any type of argument. I feel his hands run over my skin with soap, and move myself only when he needs to get the undersides of my arms. He pulls me forward to rest against his chest as he washes my back, and works out a couple small knots while I'm still like that. The water is just perfect and I'm being pampered. I can find absolutely no reason to not do this in return on Friday. I begin planning everything immediately.
I jump as a hand moves FAR too low. "You were thinking. Stop it. Just relax. I frown but resign. I do have all week. For the time being, I just let him do as he will and I'd be downright lying if I said I didn't enjoy the attention.
He then leans me back and I hum as the jet continues working the worst knot. Shanks' hands gently clean and massage everywhere. "You do realize I won't move when it's time to get out, correct?"
"I'm fully aware, Mihawk. I'm also a big boy and can easily carry you to bed." I happen to know he won't put the effort in to allow me to brush my teeth or do it himself. Even as it is disgusting to go to bed, teeth un-brushed, I'll do it tonight. ONLY tonight. Come morning I'll attack my teeth with the hard-bristled brush and mint paste. "Stop thinking, dammit." I roll my eyes again, but close them and hold back a wince. Now that the jet's been abusing the same spot, the skin and muscle beneath are pretty tender. Opening my eyes, I lift my arm and move forward to turn of the jets before my hand's gently smacked back into the water.
"Shanks, I'm just turning off the jets."
"Tell me and I'll do it. Do you not get the concept of 'don't lift a finger?'" His hand reaches up and does the deed I'd set out to do.
"I understand it fine, but it's one of those things that falls onto the 'it's easier said than done' spectrum. I'm used to doing things myself."
"Blah blah, who cares. Just don't move anymore." He picks up a foot and begins massaging it, earning a pleased sigh. I see his smile and my eyelids cover my golden irises once more, leaning my back against the wall of the deep tub. Eventually he gives my other foot the same treatment, sitting back in my lap when he finishes.
A lazy (on my part anyway) make out session ensues. My lips are entirely pliable, and Shanks takes advantage of that. Using the slightest of pressure, he nips my lower lip and I shudder. "Really now? You're that relaxed?" I don't react to my lips being treated like that unless I'm a metaphorical blob. What wouldn't surprise me is if that was the goal of this whole ordeal - he'll only get it once. Then I'm more aware and won't let it happen again.
… On a normal night. However. This is not a normal night, and he enjoys the reaction, so I let myself react completely without restraint. It's not much, but it's something to repay his kindness.
I'm humming when my body wants to hum, shuddering when it wants to shudder, and Shanks takes it all happily. "What's with you, Mihawk? You're never this responsive…!"
I shrug and that's all the answer he'll be getting.
His gentle assault on my lips continues and I allow myself to completely enjoy the sensations. Shanks is taking advantage of the situation and trying new things. Not all of them are necessarily GOOD new things, but he's trying and I won't stop him. His hand strokes my chest and slips downward. "Shanks…" I warn. "Not tonight." I open my eyes to see him pouting. "I thought we'd already established this."
"Then don't think of it as sex. Think of it as more of a stress relief that feels really really good." He smiles in hopes that it'll work. I shake my head firmly.
"Maybe later, but not now. I wish to fully enjoy the bath you've drawn for me in the very least before you spoil the water." I arch an eyebrow, and he gives up. I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me. "I really appreciate this, Shanks." My lips gently brush the shell of his ear and he gasps.
"Tease!" I chuckle and let him sit back, pout returning to his features. My arms are loosely wrapped around his hips, but I won't let him off my lap just yet. "You're horrible, you know that?" I shrug in response and lean back against the tub wall again, tugging him with me. He gets the cue and leans back in and kisses me. Another rather lazy session of kisses and nips ensues as I can sense Shanks trying to goad me into letting him get me off. I just don't have the willpower I need to stand up to him much longer. Not sure what it is about him, but no matter what I say he almost always gets his way. It's… not annoying, per se, because what he wants is also what I usually want but have the sense to refuse it. Just not the will to refuse it for long.
I reach out and pull the plug to the drain with a protest from my red-haired lover. "Come on, I want to go lay down." I feel the water level sinking and he lifts me up. I hold onto his shoulders and blush a bit as he carries me to the toilet and dries me off. Then I'm carried to the bed (as I'd predicted, no teeth brushing) and he covers me up, only for me to push he thick comforter off and pull him down next to me. "I'm not sure what possessed you to do any of this, but I'm grateful and want to show it."
I kiss down his chest and I can hear his breath quicken in excitement. My hands gently massage his thighs as I kiss his stomach and try to get his body more interested in what I'm doing. It's working. I use a hand to palm him softly; enough to stir him up but not so much that it'll do much more than that. He's half-hard faster than usual. My thin, long fingers wrap around him and stroke slowly for a while, then I spit in my palm and continue until he's moaning quietly and completely hard. Then I move my lips down, leaving a trail of kisses until I feel his coarse pubic hair brush my lower lip. I lift my head and look up at Shanks and see his pupils blown.
Keeping eye-contact, I slowly move low enough and kiss the weeping tip of his erection. He sucks in a breath but doesn't look away or close his eyes. I'm challenging him, and Shanks knows it. I then open my mouth enough for the glans to sit right behind my teeth, and swirl my tongue around it as a start to the fellatio. A deep moan errupts above me and I smirk a bit.
I take him deeper, slowly, gradually, until I've taken him to the root. It's really quite a blessing to not have a gag reflex. I swallow around Shanks and he groans loud enough to wake the dead. My throat tightens as I hum, adding vibrations to the mix; the action doesn't go unappreciated.
Shanks' fingers tangle in my damp hair and he pulls roughly, but I don't stop. It doesn't take much more effort to get him to the edge. My tongue adds pressure along the underside and I put my hand on his hip, thumb rubbing his sweet spot in the hollow, as permission I know he's been seeking. I still my head and let him position me how he wants, and soon he's thrusting into my throat incessantly. His hips start to stutter after a while, so I tighten my throat to urge him towards completion. Doesn't take any more than three more thrusts until my mouth fills with his seed. I quickly push him back down and bob my head to milk the rest out of him, swallowing everything. Soon he's pushing my head away from his over-sensitized member and I sit back, legs crossed.
"Was that enough of a thank-you for today?"
"God, yes. Thank you." I smile and get up.
"As much as I want to lay with you, I'm going to go brush my teeth now. Don't fall asleep yet." I go and brush my teeth for a bit longer than usual and then return, face washed as well, slipping under the blankets with my red-haired lover. I press my lips to his forehead, waking him from his light slumber. "I thought I said to stay awake." I bring a hand up and stroke his right eyebrow. He'll fall back asleep soon enough like that.
"Sorry, babe." He yawns, and I stifle my own. "You were gone for so long, though." Another yawn, which earns him an eye roll.
"Go to sleep." I turn to lay with my back facing him. Predictably, he scoots up and presses himself against me, tangling our legs together and I can't help but to smile. He's too adorable for a thirty-nine year-old man. I feel him press his nose into my neck and his arm drape over my waist. My hand finds his, and I lace our fingers before closing my eyes, giving his hand one final squeeze before I drift to sleep.
The rest of the week went by really fast. I made dinner every night for my grumpy Mihawk, we exchanged a few hand jobs, and it's finally Friday. I hear the bath water running, and while I question it, I don't say anything. "Mihawk? Come here…!" I want to give him his massage; I've waited long enough, I need to do this now.
"Not now, Shanks. I need you in here first. You smell terrible today, get in the bath, please." Thanks for the sugarcoat there, sugar. I get out of bed and go across the hall to the bathroom. "There you are. Shower a bit first." Mihawk points at the stand up shower he insisted we have if there was a tub; it isn't even walled in. There's just a drain in the floor now. It's not anything for privacy, but whatever. Just me and him, and I'll gladly say I've got a kickass body for my age. Speaking of rocking bods, I feel Mihawk's eyes burning another hole in my ass as I wash the filth of the day off.
Once I'm clean, I hop into the fragrant water by Mihawk. "What's this for?"
"You'd done it earlier in the week, and I thought I may as well return the favor - at a more appropriate time, though, so you could properly enjoy it." I smile.
"You like to think you aren't romantic, and yet here you are, waiting in the bath for your lover." I feign a swoon, putting a hand to my forehead.
"Please just get in the tub, Shanks."
I salute him. "Yessir, Hawk Eyes sir!" I get in next to him, letting the hot water embrace me and Mihawk crawls into my lap quicker than I thought possible with him. "Eager, are we?" I just get an unimpressed look before I feel the shampoo squirted into my hair.
My bath is almost exactly like his was on Monday, massaging and everything. The only difference is he isn't trying to get me in the mood. That's kind of a bummer. I sigh and let him do as he wants, until we're just sitting in the tub and enjoying each other's company. I wrap my arms around him, lips touching his neck and hands starting to roam his skin. "Dry off for me, and go lay on the bed. I've got one more thing for you, Mihawk." I kiss him gently one more time before letting him go, standing up to walk to the other side of the tub and pull the plug. Then I get out myself and towel off, walking to the bedroom with my towel wrapped tightly around my hips. I lick my lips involentarily at the sight in front of me; Mihawk, completely relaxed on the wine red towel I'd layed out so none of the massage oil would drip onto the (rather expensive) red silk bedding below. His chocolate brown towel is only laying across his ass and the backs of his pale thighs, giving me an almost completely uninhibited view of the golden-eyed man I love. I smile and walk over, pressing a kiss to the base of his spine before slowly dragging his towel off his skin.
"You won't be needing this from here on out." I smile and kiss the perfect roundness of Mihawk's ass, and I can feel a slight shiver run through him. Then I stand up to walk over to the night stand, retrieving the small bottle of massage oil. It's a mix of sunflower seed, clove bud, bergamot fruit, avocado, and cinnamon bark oils, as well as extracts from bitter orange peels, elder flower, and a whole hell of a lot of long-named things that Mihawk could pronounce. Probably. I roll the bottle between my two hands to warm the oil up before pulling out the cork and straddling Mihawk's lower back, sitting on his ass. "Sorry for the position, but it's the best way to get your back evenly." He knows just how obsessed I am with things being even.
I pour a small river along my lover's spine, watching it pool in the slight recess his back muscles make around the vital column of bone. I put the cork back into the mouth of the bottle and set it aside, and run my fingers through the oil before slicking up the rest of his back. My thumbs, with a bit of strength behind them, work the muscles along his spine first. I hear a very pleased groan fight its way from my stoic boyfriend's mouth, quickly stifled by his awareness. Well, it was wonderful while it lasted.
When I'm sure the muscles I've been working are properly loosened, I pour a bit more oil onto his back (with a bit of effort; a small cork is a bitch to grab with oily hands) and leave the now uncorked bottle on the nightstand. I'll be using more later, and now that I know how tough the sucker is to open with oiled hands… no. Won't do that again. I then work his upper back, paying close attention to the area around his right shoulder blade. He's constantly getting knots there.
It takes me almost an hour and a half to get out each and every knot in my lover's overworked back. Then I put my hands on the wine-colored towel just below his armpits, rolling forward to kiss the back of Mihawk's neck. "This isn't all, I'm sure you know…" I kiss higher and make my way to his ear, where I start to gently nip. "Roll onto your back for me, dear." He's not usually one big on terms of endearment, but hey. It's a special night. I get off him so he can, and kiss his exposed chest as he settles, careful to stay on the towel. "Thank you very much." I slide my oily hands down his stomach and he sucks in a breath.
My hands work down to his hips, and I pause a moment to sit on his thighs. I reach up and dump a slight amount of oil into the palm of my left hand before settling again. Almost immediately right after, I lay my right hand on his left hip, rubbing the hollow with the pad of my thumb. I know it doesn't affect him in the same way it does me - dammit - but it's something to do that doesn't feel unpleasant. I move the rest of myself up, peppering a trail of kisses along his torso and neck. I place my left forearm, hand cupped and palm up to not spill any oil, beside his head to brace myself on it as I kiss him gently.
The kiss turns heated. Fast. I feel his teeth pulling my lip and hum before attacking him just as ferociously. We probably look like we're trying to tear each other apart. Whatever. I switch arms; my right comes up to brace me as I use my left hand to wake up his little brain. Didn't take long at all. His hips buck up ever so slightly when I squeeze him, borderline painfully, as the pressure dances on the line between enough and too much.
He's moaning softly, and I have to think that's one of the biggest rewards in all this. Yeah, the sex is great - fucking awesome, actually - and it feels fantastic. But no one else hears this from him. Mihawk only speaks when necessary with anyone else, and he definitely doesn't moan or groan around other people. It's something that only I can enjoy and I feel… well, I can't think of the work for it.
I feel a smack on my right shoulder, and a residual stinging sticks around as I see a pair of golden eyes staring into my own. They look annoyed.
"Shanks, you have my penis in your left hand and my tongue in your mouth. What could you possibly be thinking about?!"
"How only I get to hear you sound so delicious," I answer without hesitation, licking my lips. "I feel honored and overwhelmingly happy." There's that word I was looking for. 'Honored.' Alrighty. Upon closer inspection, I see his cheeks tinted pink.
I continue giving my grumpy lover the attention he deserves, and kiss a mark onto his neck. "Good God, Shanks. You're going too slow!" Here it comes. "Just fuck me already!" That. I shiver. That's how I know when he's really enjoying what I'm doing. I shrug.
"Fine, I guess…" I kiss down his chest and gently lick around a perky nipple before reaching up, discarding my own towel and getting some more oil on my hand. I slick up my fingers as I continue teasing the rosy bud and shove his thighs apart with my knee. He complies immediately, allowing me adequate space to prepare him. He's a (quietly) moaning mess and it's all going straight to my own… 'need.'
I tease his entrance with the tip of my middle finger and bring my right hand to twist and tweak his other nipple. His back arches and I could just ravish him thoroughly. But, no. I'll take this slowly. Hah, 'slowly.'
Finally, I press a finger in, gradually, and he's the loudest he's been all week. I get it all the way in before thrusting it without any hint of urgency to detect in my actions. Mihawk's long and slender fingers knot into my slightly damp red locks, holding me against his chest. I smirk ever so slightly and begin working a second finger in, wincing a bit as his fingers tighten. Scissoring him open for a while, I crook my fingers right where I know his prostate is. Four years of experience, and I know all his best spots. Just like the one right behind his left ear, or the inside of his right thigh. All great to get him fired up. I'm three fingers in before I slow the pace to excruciating, and untangle his fingers from my hair so I can move.
Speaking of sweet spots. I move and attack his inner thigh with lips, tongue, teeth. He's squirming and I smirk wider. This is how I like him. I sit up, kiss the leaking tip of his flushed erection, and pull my fingers out. With a few quick movements, fresh oil slicks up my own member and he's lifting his hips without me needing to ask. I grab his right leg and shoulder it to give myself more room (and a better angle) before pressing in. I'm met with Mihawk pushing onto me, and I'm fully seated in no time, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
I lean forward, Mihawk's thigh now against his chest as I kiss him roughly. He wraps his other leg around my waist; probably was uncomfortable for his hip. That's fine. "You know, no matter how much I do this, you're always so tight," I growl against his lips. He shudders, but tries to move while I'm still.
"Shanks…!" He looks me in the eye, golden darkened by lust, expression nearly orgasmic just to look at. That does it. I lean up and pull back before snapping my hips in, hitting his prostate dead-on. I keep up a ruthless pace, and Mihawk's moans spur me on further. I turn my head and attack his inner thigh, earning more of a reaction from him. Mihawk's hand starts towards his neglected erection, but I stop it and pin it above his head. The new position changes the angle just right, and his moaning would put Alexis Texas to shame. I quicken the pace as much as my tiring muscles will allow, but my pace stutters too soon dammit. I hold myself off, though, and let Mihawk's hand go. It flies to his weeping cock and my own hand supports me, resting just above his head. I turn my attention from his thigh to his lips again, and the kiss is sloppier than a sixth grader's first. Without any warning, he comes, seed spilling onto his hand and stomach. Mihawk's inner walls tighten as I chase my own release, which I reach four thrusts later. I spill deep inside, and he tightens to milk me dry. I collapse on top of him, well aware but not caring about the mess on my stomach as a result. I mouth at his collarbone, leaving hickeys here and there.
I pull out, and lean over to the nightstand to grab a bunch of tissues. I wipe Mihawk up before cleaning myself off as best as I can with my limited energy. Balling up the soiled paper tissues, I toss them into the small trash can next to the nightstand and flop onto the mattress next to my spent lover.
A little while of silence follows until Mihawk speaks up. "So. I'm assuming you got the massage idea from a porno?"
I scoff at that. "No, porn is tasteless. I had planned to just work out the knots and go to bed, but then I thought of something better and then all that happened." I sit up and roll my lover onto his stomach, wiping his oily back down with the wine red towel. Tossing it to the floor next to his chocolate brown towel (it ended up on the floor in the midst of all that at some point), I eventually get him covered up and pull him against my chest. He gets as close as he can and presses his nose against my throat. Won't be long until he's out. "Hey, Mihawk?" He hums in response. "I love you. Immensely."
I feel his lips against my throat. "I love you too, Shanks." He gets his arm around me, I drape my own over him, and we fall asleep in each other's arms, legs tangled, just like that.
Fin