We discovered this pairing from a picture on deviantart and hopped on the wagon with delight. The Roger connection and the old man thing aside, I think their personalities alone make them compatible enough to ship. So ship I do! I'm not sure where this takes place in my imagination, somewhere with a wooden ceiling...Enjoy!
Die Alone
"Garp?"
He became slowly more aware of the mattress shifting and a light hand resting on his face. As his eyelids fluttered sluggishly, the gentle touch brushed over the blanket, moving, systematically over his shoulder, his side, and the exposed sheets. The Vice Admiral propped himself up on his left elbow, finally able to focus fully on the upright man beside him.
"Where're my glasses?"
Garp blinked several times at the squinting Silvers Rayleigh, light furrows creasing his forehead as he gazed blindly out in front of him. There was a moment of silence during which they both remained absolutely still, the pirate tensely poised and the marine groggily eyeing him with a contemplative frown. At the same time, they broke the quiet.
"Do you..."
"Never mind, Garp, never mind. I.."
"On the table over..."
"I don't - I just..." Rayleigh slid decisively under the comforter, leaving no purpose for the hand extended over him, which returned to Garp's massive side before he reluctantly rolled to his back.
The pair lay shoulder to shoulder, eyes fixed on the ceiling through the early hour darkness. Garp chanced a side glance briefly, flicked back up to the wooden planks, then returned to the pensive man at his side, eyes leading his head as he turned to study him full on.
The blanket covered his face up to the nose but his unshielded eyes shone intensely, framed by slightly inclined brows and delicately drawn wrinkles as well as a few stray silver curls. Garp waited patiently and was soon rewarded with the covers being lowered slightly.
"I didn't need them," Rayleigh admitted, turning somewhat shyly and somewhat grumpily to nestle himself in the broad chest Garp rotated to provide. The Dark King felt rather slender against him. "I," a short sigh left warm breath between their bodies, "I feel full of hurting sometimes," he finished vaguely, rubbing his nose into the Vice Admiral's t-shirt and shutting his eyes quietly.
Garp, used to Rayleigh saying such things that seemed over his head but resonated with him in an unclear way, brushed the tousled, grayed waves back over the man's scalp and down his neck.
They breathed together slowly and Garp remembered what it felt like to wake up alone in the dark.