Title: Apprentikisses
Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Marco, with cameos by Gol D. Roger and Silvers Rayleigh, and mentions of Whitebeard
Pairings: Shanks/Buggy, slight Shanks/Marco
Warnings: boy love, slight crack.
Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.

Some days Buggy hated being a Roger pirate. There wasn't enough treasure hunting for the young clown's taste, and the red-haired bastard had the flashy habit of flashily making a pest of himself almost every day. Of course, he also had the habit of being a very enjoyable cabin-mate, but that's beside the point.

Today Shanks had been more determined that usual to annoy Buggy. It probably had something to do with that flashy Whitebeard and his crew. Damn them for somehow managing to get their anchors tangled. How they managed it was beyond Buggy's comprehension, but he bet it had something to do with both Shanks and rum.

"Buggy, Shanks, look after Marco while we talk." Roger had ordered and nudged the young man from Whitebeard's crew in his the direction of his apprentices.

"I don't need a babysitter." The fourteen-year-old had protested.

"In that case, may I suggest that Marco keep an eye on Buggy and Shanks?" Silvers Rayleigh suggested, much to his and Marco's captains' amusement.

Buggy sulked out of the room, barely glancing to make sure that the damn red-head and starfish-brain were following him.

"So, Marco was it?"

Damn. There went his idea of ditching the kid in favor of more adult activities.

"Yeah." The brat sulked.

"Shanks." Buggy heard them shake hands. "The clown is Buggy."

Buggy whirled around furiously.

"Who are you saying has a big nose?" He demanded flashily.

"See? Big, red, clown nose." Shanks explained to Marco, that damn twinkle flashing…flashily…in his eyes.

"I hate you sometimes." Buggy muttered. It really was just like Shanks to ignore his needs.

"Been on the old man's crew long?" Shanks asked the brat amicably, still paying Buggy no mind.

"Not really." Marco answered briefly.

Hmmm….Didn't sound like the kid was much of a talker. Good. Shanks wouldn't stay interested for long. But, just in case…

"Still green and inexperienced?" Buggy taunted, taking out his frustration.

Marco flushed slightly, and to Buggy's surprise, Shanks did nothing, merely plopped himself on an overturned bucket to watch.

Spurred on by the reactions, or lack thereof, of the other two, Buggy kept going.

"Do you write to your mommy very often? I'm sure she misses her darling baby."

Marco's flush grew and still Shanks did nothing.

"Or was she the one to drive you to piracy? Couldn't have been much of a looker, not with a son like you."

Marco's muscles twitched.

"With looks like yours, with that ridiculously flashy hair, you've obviously never been kissed. Who'd want to kiss a flashy guy like you?" Buggy laughed, his fingers gripping his knives as the brat lunged at him.

But the boy's fists never came within range. There was a flash of red in between Buggy and Marco which stopped the blue-haired apprentice.

Shanks had finally decided to move and was in between them. Buggy opened his mouth to yell at Shanks for daring to interfere in his teaching the brat a much needed lesson (even if he might have been just a little bit glad that he could be counted on to take Buggy's side), when he noticed what Shanks was doing.

"What?" Buggy screamed. Shanks pulled Marco deeper in, one of his talented hands mussing the oddly shaped hair.

Buggy could feel the amusement and self-satisfaction rolling off of Shanks in waves.

Shanks grinned at him as he wiped away a string of his and Marco's saliva from his mouth as his finally broke the kiss.

"I like kissing flashy guys."

Buggy gaped at the redhead sauntered away.

Marco looked at him. He looked at Marco.

…

Then Buggy's brain caught up to speed and he realized in what direction Shanks had been heading.

"No hard feelings." The clown told the starfish-brain as he dashed away after his sometimes lover.

As for Marco, he resolved never to serve upon the same crew as any Roger pirate. Lunatics, all of them. Anyone who would serve with a D. had to be mad, or so his captain said, and he now believed.