A "drabble", requested by Lunarshores. Lost!AU
Shanks was a complicated and mysterious man, that much Benn had discovered years ago. Yet, while most people only knew his captain as a jolly drunk, the first mate had never regretted his decision to join Shanks when he was asked. Moreover, he would do it again, given the chance.
Shanks certainly had the jolly drunk side of him; as most pirates, he enjoyed to booze and to party as often as possible. Yet, over the years, he had become more serious and when the situation demanded it, he was a great leader. As first mate, Benn was second in command, but he had never had to completely take over. Shanks could be everyone's dream captain when necessary. He was also smart and insightful, though he sometimes played dumb, but Benn knew him better than that. And his strength earned him a place as Yonko.
All these wonderful qualities, however, didn't mean that Benn's captain couldn't be an idiot underneath it all. His eyebrow twitching in irritation, the first mate read the note that Yasopp had given him after finding it in the captain's cabin. Apparently, Shanks had deemed it necessary to "clear his head" and went out on a walk by himself. On a freaking uninhabited winter island.
Benn leaned on the table with his hands, his head dropped while he took a few calming breaths. With Shanks gone, he was in charge, but he also felt responsible for his captain. Shanks had made it a rule that if he were to be gone for a week without a word, Benn would become captain and sail on. While Benn had promised to do so – if only because Shanks wouldn't stop whining about it until he did – he wasn't about to leave his captain and long-time friend stranded on a deserted island.
Soon, it had become dark and Shanks still wasn't back yet. Benn lied down in his hammock, trying to get some shut-eye, but after a lot of tossing and turning, he picked up a lantern, wrapped himself in warm cloak and taking a bottle of rum, he took a stand at the railing, staring out over the snowy plain that was stretched out in front of him. There was no sign of his captain.
Someone shaking his shoulder woke him the next morning. Rubbing his eyes, Benn looked around him. He was still standing at the railing, now with an amused looking Yasopp standing next to him.
"He's not back yet, is he?" Benn asked, his eyes never leaving the island in front of him.
"Nah, but you shouldn't worr–" Yasopp began, but interrupted himself when Benn started to walk towards the gangplank. "Where are you going?"
"Getting our captain," Benn growled. "You're in charge while I'm gone."
"But–" Yasopp started to protest. "You're the one in charge when the captain is gone!"
"I'm also responsible for his life," Benn muttered. "But," he continued in a louder voice, "I promise I'll be back before sundown, with or without him."
Ignoring other protests that arose, Benn pulled his cloak tighter around him and with a bag of food, matches and booze – because Shanks was the kind of idiot that forgot basic stuff – he started to walk. He expected to find his captain lying somewhere in the snow, dehydrated or hungry, maybe even frozen… Brusquely, Benn shook his head. Shanks might be an idiot, but he was also strong. And ill weed grows apace.
Soon, the ship was out of sight and Benn found himself surrounded by nothing but snow. Everywhere he looked, he saw the same plain. There wasn't even a tree in sight. Cursing under his breath, Benn continued to walk, shouting Shanks' name every now and then. The only sound that reached his ears was the echo of his own voice.
The snow reaching until his knees as he trudged onwards, Benn kept his eyes open for any sign of Shanks. But it had been snowing the previous night, so any footsteps left had been erased. Benn had no idea which way Shanks had gone and the island was big enough to get lost.
The wind was rising and suddenly, the sky had become dark. Snow was blown into his eyes and Benn had to use his arm to shield his face. Things didn't became much better when it started to snow again. Deciding that finding Shanks wouldn't become an easier task when Benn was dead, the first mate turned to head back to the ship. Or so he thought.
The wind and snow had erased the path he had created by walking and everywhere around him, it looked the same. He headed in the direction he thought was the correct one, but nothing indicated he was getting closer to the ship. He had no idea how long he had been walking and the dark sky didn't give anything away either. The icy wind blew straight through his cloak, despite him pulling it tighter behind him.
Slowly, it dawned upon him that he might not get back. Just his luck to get stuck in a snowstorm.
He pulled the bottle of brandy out of his shoulder bag and took a swig from it in the hope of getting a bit warmer. Lighting a match would be no use as it would be blown out right away, so there was no hope of lighting his way.
When had he fallen on his knees in the snow? As he tried to push himself back on his feet, Benn started to wonder if maybe he was the irresponsible one. Shanks had trusted him to be a capable captain, yet he had left the crew with no one to take care of them. What if he died here – a possibility that became more and more likely – and Shanks didn't come back either? Or what if he did? Would they sail on without Benn? Of course they would, it wasn't that Benn wasn't replaceable.
Managing to force out Shanks' name one last time, he lost consciousness.
Somewhere, his brain realised that his body was picked up and dragged along, warmed a bit by a warm body. Perhaps a wild animal that has mistaken him for dead, he thought. He would be soon enough anyway. Too bad, though. He was a sailor through and through, it was almost an anti-climax to die on land.
When he woke up again, he was still cold, but at least the wind had dropped. And, even through closed eyelids, he realised it was much lighter around him. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was a fire and his clothes spread out on the floor to dry. A floor that wasn't covered in snow.
Sitting up slowly, Benn felt the blanket covering him slip off and, as it got through to him that all of his clothes were in front of the fireplace, he realised he was naked underneath the cover.
"You were never one to die a peaceful death," a voice – a very familiar one – suddenly spoke. "So I couldn't allow you to go out like this."
Benn sighed and lied back on the wooden floor, giving nothing away about the relief he felt when he recognised Shanks' voice. "I was supposed to save you," he said.
Shanks sat down next to him and a warm hand started to rub Benn's still slightly blue and cold skin. "It was very irresponsible of you to leave the crew like that," he said reprimanding. "You're obviously not ready yet to become captain."
Benn smiled and enjoyed the feeling of being touched. "I don't think I will be for a long time." Opening his eyes again, he looked around the hut they were seeking shelter in. "So this is where you have been hiding."
"You should trust me I know what I'm doing more," Shanks replied as he reached further under the blanket.
Benn hummed and relaxed a bit, but suddenly, he grabbed Shanks' hand and pulled at it, so his captain lost his balance and fell on top of him. Immediately, Benn wrapped his arms around him.
Shanks indulged him for a while, but then pushed himself up again. "We'd do better to share body heat," he stated matter of factly.
While Benn stared at him in shock, Shanks started to undress himself. Benn remembered seeing Shanks shirtless before, but that had been years ago, before he had lost his arm to save the boy, Luffy. After that, while he kept his shirt open to show off his chest, no one – to Benn's knowledge – had ever seen the stump of where his arm had been. Yet here Shanks was, willingly taking off his shirt. And while him taking off his pants was certainly interesting as well, the fact that he showed his upper body to Benn made him feel honoured about Shanks' trust in him.
Benn's eyes landed on the scarred skin under Shanks' left shoulder and without thinking, he reached out. Halting just in time, he hesitated and asked, "Can I?"
When his captain nodded, Benn caressed the marred skin as he pulled Shanks' naked body underneath the blanket. The red haired man curled up against him and smiled against Benn's skin. "I suppose it's not the worst thing you're here," he muttered.
The next morning, the storm had calmed and the sun was shining, causing an almost blinding reflection on the snow. Benn sighed as Shanks smirked a bit smugly and the first mate wondered why he had ever doubted his captain. Shanks wouldn't die, not like this. Not before the boy had become the pirate king.
It turned out the ship was only an hour walk away, but Benn realised how much he missed spending time alone with Shanks. Lying naked under a blanket together had been rather pleasant as well.
But as usual, the crew could be heard from a mile away and Benn sighed as they loudly greeted their captain. Shanks was dragged into a party and he didn't have any more time to spend with Benn alone. Not that Benn got any peace himself, that wasn't how a Red-Hair pirate party worked.
At night, he found himself awake and staring at the ceiling. Somehow, after having had a warm body curled up against him, sleeping without and alone seemed impossible.
A shadow fell over him and someone crawled into his hammock with him. With a smile on his face, Benn pulled Shanks close to him.
It was uncharacteristically quiet when Benn woke up again, but he soon forgot about that when he felt Shanks move. The captain sat up and went with his hand through his hair. "Morning."
"Morning." With one hand, Benn caressed Shanks' one good arm and with the other, the captain's hip. The first mate couldn't help but smile.
That was, until he noticed the figures standing behind them. Yasopp, Lucky Roo and some others stared at them, eyes wide.
Shanks followed Benn's gaze and grinned embarrassedly. "Whoops, busted," he merely said as he climbed out of the hammock. As he went for the door, he looked over his shoulder once more and smirked. "See ya tonight, Benn."