I love you, Aimee. What happens belowdeck, stays belowdeck. ;D
Prompt: Mukuro/Dino-pirates; "because things are different on the water."
Soundtrack: Risque by Cute is What We Aim For
Underwater
"We shouldn't take a woman onboard, cap'n!" the mate objected. He looked as if he was ready for any sign of punishment, as rightly he should. Captain Xanxus was notoriously short tempered, keeping the entire crew in line with only his glare and the sight of his impressive scars. Nobody knew for sure what they were from, but there were enough rumours to satisfy the biggest gossipmongers onboard.
"Are you afraid of a skirt?" the captain sneered, not checking that his second, a tall man with silver hair to his waist, was following. From behind one couldn't decide if he was old, female, or both, but once his face and figure were visible it was obvious he was a strapping young man.
He shook his head stubbornly. "The crew won't like it, captain," he said softly.
In all honesty, a deckhand like Dino Cavallone shouldn't have been eavesdropping on the two, as it was obviously a private discussion, but he couldn't help it as he checked the ropes. Everything seemed in good shape.
So they were taking a passenger? That was odd. Normally the only passengers Xanxus allowed were soon ransomed out, and in that case not one of the crew minded if they were male or female; they were gone soon enough, either over the side or, rarely, returned to dry land.
That night, the crew was abuzz. "I saw the girl who's going to come onboard!" whispered another of the deckhands, leaning in so he wouldn't be overheard and scolded by a sailor. "She's a bit tall and skinny but she's got the nicest skin you've ever seen, long, silky hair, and she had on boots up to here." He gestured to about mid-thigh, grinning wickedly. "Weirdest thing, though, she had on pants, not a skirt. But at least you could see more of the shape of her legs that way." His wink was lascivious.
Dino's interest was only vaguely piqued. He shrugged, chuckling at Ryohei's vehemence. "Wonder what'll happen."
"Happen? She'll get her—" His reply was shushed by Dino's grimace. Honestly, he didn't want to know the details of his friend's fantasy girl.
The next evening Dino was sitting up on the mast, his legs swinging fearlessly over the drop. None of the crew below minded, most of them having done the same as a deckhand. He was watching the port curiously. "Who's that?" he called down to Fran, a rather bored-looking sailor on watch at the stern. Fran turned, shrugging dismissively while Dino pointed towards the white-haired man heading towards the Seven Skies.
"Oh, look, he's casually boarding the ship now," came a harsh voice from below. "Nice one guarding, guys!" Squalo stormed over to Fran, towering over him angrily. "You're lucky I know this guy or you'd be over the side, frog boy!" With that he spun and headed for the newcomer.
Their words were too soft to hear as Dino climbed down to the deck and looked curiously at Fran, who shrugged. "I think that guy's named Byakuran," he whispered. "Part of some crime ring. Our passenger is from him."
Dino looked at him, vaguely surprised that the infinitely disinterested Fran had taken interest in this. "You mean we're transporting someone for his crime ring?" A little shrug was all the reply he was going to get and it was good enough. He blinked, looking at the oddly-coloured man a moment longer as the second mate and stranger spoke a few more minutes and then he turned to return to land.
Hours later, he'd nearly fallen asleep, sitting on a pile of spare rope, arms crossed over his chest, enjoying the salty air and the gentle sound of waves lapping at the side of the ship. A voice rang out, jolting him from his sleep.
"Did you just slap my ass?"
He blinked the sleep from his eyes and staggered to his feet, hurrying to see what the commotion was about. Belphegor was stepping backwards, eyes hidden but his mouth contorted into a grimace as he stared at the person in front of him. "But I thought you were-!"
"Oh? I was what?" The passenger's long hair reflected the soft moonlight and leather boots rode even higher than Ryohei had said, but that voice was unmistakably male. Immediately Dino's interest was piqued. He could see why the crew thought it was a girl coming onboard.
Belphegor left, disgusted, without answering. Ryohei crept up beside Dino and said dejectedly.
"I swear boots like that are for females," he groaned. "Why the heck is that guy wearing them?"
"Just to get you hopeful," Dino replied brightly, dodging a punch to his arm. This sounded far more fun than having the whole crew drool after a pair of breasts for as long as they had this new person. Now there was a mystery. What was the man from? He seemed to be native, unlike half the crew of the ship, but still something about him was exotic. The quick glimpse he'd gotten of the man's eyes were breathtaking, one a cerulean like the sea, the other as red as blood. Weren't people with differently coloured eyes supposed to be witches?
For a couple of days everything went fine, if a little tense. None of the mysteries unraveled, that anyone could tell, and Xanxus wouldn't hint as to their destination or the identity of their passenger. Only that he went by Mukuro and he was not to be taken lightly. Sometimes the man disappeared belowdeck for hours and no one saw him, and others he stayed all night in the moonlight, his hair tugged by the breeze and the mist of the sea covering his clothes, working the salt into his skin until he smelled as much of a sea man as they did.
It was nearly time to go below for bed and Dino wanted to go around one more time to check that everything was in place lest Squalo have his head. When he checked the stores room he stopped, blinking in surprise.
"…Rum," he observed bleakly.
The man sat, stretched luxuriously in a chair he must have moved into the room, his long hair thrown over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips. It was the only time Dino had been alone with him. "More rum," he replied, hefting a bottle that he brought to his lips. The deckhand sighed, fighting the urge to put his forehead in his hand. The captain would pitch a fit if he ran out of booze before the end of their voyage to wherever they were going. Hopefully this Mukuro fellow didn't drink much at once or there would be trouble.
It felt rude to leave like that, so Dino closed the door behind him and walked in, unwilling to sit, unsure of the man's temperament. Mukuro watched him with amusement, illuminated by the moonlight from the porthole and the flickering candlelight of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. He took another long draft before he motioned for Dino to come over.
Reluctantly he did, though he still didn't sit down.
"There're barrels big enough for your bum," Mukuro observed wryly, giving him a knowing look. Dino paled a little, embarrassed that he'd been caught in his hesitation to sit on the floor, and upended one of the barrels as carefully as he could to perch on top of it. "Now what are you wanting to ask, lad?" Another swig. How long had he been down here drinking? He didn't seem drunk.
"Ask?" he questioned.
"Not a one of you want to be with me for my company," he said with a wry grin. "You all want to know about me. So ask. I don't bite."
"Alright," Dino replied tentatively. "Why do you need to hitch a ride with pirates? There must've been a good reason for Captain Xanxus to take you on."
"Can't answer that," Mukuro replied promptly, smirking at Dino's exasperation. "My turn. What's your name?"
He blanched. "My name?" At the man's patient nod he gave a self-conscious shrug. "Dino Cavallone. I'm a deckhand."
"Your name's too normal," he said immediately, regarding him over the lip of his bottle. "Here, have a bottle, kid." He proffered one and, though he wasn't sure whether he should, it was a hard offer to turn down. While he opened it Mukuro continued. "Make up a fake one. Have a bit of jazz to it. You're a pirate, aren't you?"
He supposed it should have been annoying to be told something so flatout, but really, it was quite amusing. Was the man like this all the time or was his tongue loosened with the alcohol? His cheeks weren't red and his speech wasn't slurred, but some people were like that even drunk.
"What's your real name?" Dino asked curiously, taking a tentative sip.
"Mukuro," he replied with a shrug. "Rokudou Mukuro. I used to have a different one but this is the real one now." With that puzzling tidbit he leaned a little closer, leaning his chin on his palm. "How old are you?"
With a blink he replied, "Almost twenty. I signed on a few years ago when mum couldn't keep feeding three kids."
"You send your gains home, then?" It was said indifferently, as if he didn't really care one way or the other but thought it polite to ask.
"Yes, sir."
"Hmm." Mukuro twirled a piece of hair around his finger. "Why were you the only one who didn't act disappointed when you found out I was a man?" he asked suddenly.
Dino sputtered, fighting not to choke on the draft he'd just taken. "I—I—"
"Simple enough question, Dino Cavallone."
He swallowed hard. "I'm not a skirt-chaser," he finally managed, a little indignantly.
"Oya." Mukuro chuckled, and admittedly, it sent a shiver down Dino's spine. "So you're a pants-chaser?" he purred.
"I don't think that that's appro—" He was cut off by the hand on his shoulder. Mukuro was as quick as lightning and struck as hard. His lips crashed against Dino's and he had to set down the bottle quickly or he'd spill it. He hadn't even realized he'd been pulled to his feet unless he found his back on the wooden floor. A gasp left his throat and their lips met again, hungrily, Mukuro's hands already wandering. Dino was dizzy from the sudden kiss, the bit of alcohol he'd drank, and the fumes from the man on top of him.
He could smell the booze; he was definitely drunk. He had to admit, though, he was impressed at the focus that he could put into the kiss when so intoxicated, not an ounce of clumsiness, only a hunger that made Dino shiver hard and struggle to catch Mukuro's gaze. If his appetites strayed more towards men like Dino's did, likely he'd been rather disappointed to find that the voyage would be a bout of forced abstinence, so he'd jumped at the opportunity to get some. And he couldn't lie to himself: The man whose lips now trailed down his throat, hands wandering his hips, was hard to resist.
But he was a deckhand and had been for years, and the first thing he'd found out was that sailors, even pirates, did not like sailing with men of their particular tastes. Though it was a struggle at times he kept it to himself, and he couldn't risk this man letting slip that he was queer, even if Mukuro flaunted his own preferences. Dino's only relief would be the times he could sneak away from the tavern or the brothel when they touched land.
He pushed at his attacker's chest, trying to shove him off, still shivering at the touches. They were so tempting. "Get off!" he objected, trying to make his voice as sure as possible. "I'm not like that! Now off!"
Mukuro groaned loudly, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes, a little pout on his lips that made Dino understand another reason Mukuro had been taken as a woman. He was beautiful, too beautiful for a man, but there he was. Dino bit his lip but managed to wrestle him off, surprised at his strength, and took off for the door. He could hear the man's boots behind him and knew he was pursued. "Liar," Mukuro chuckled, sounding altogether too close for comfort. Goosebumps rose along with something else Dino really didn't want to think about right now.
Going from the candlelight of the store room to the darkness of the deck was startling. After only a few steps he stumbled over some rope and yelped, pinwheeling his arms, and just managed to grasp the railing along the edge of the deck before he fell. A net met his hands and without thinking he hoisted himself up, scrambling up as quickly as he could. He heard Mukuro humming something, seeming to tap his boot on the floorboards, though he didn't try to climb up after him.
Relief made him careless. Dino missed a part of the net and grabbed for it frantically, one foot already sliding from its place. The ropes were damp, worn smooth from use and frequent climbers such as him, and harder to grip than most rope. He spat a curse just as his other foot slid out and he fell. Too late he realized he wasn't above the deck; he was on the other side of the net, with his back to the ocean. He preferred climbing on this side because it was easier to get onto the mast overhead.
The water rushed up all too quickly and engulfed him. Salt stung his eyes and he propelled himself upwards, panicking a moment as he met the hard wood, and followed the upward curve of the bowl until he hit the surface and gasped. Above there was already scrabbling and someone was calling, "Man overboard!" Over that he could just make out that chilling laugh, louder and with far more mirth than before. Idiot, he told himself sourly, treading water with a frown.
"Voii!" the second mate yelled as he was pulled up onto the deck again, dripping wet and shivering in the cool night air. "What the hell were you doing?"
"Sorry, sir," he grunted with a grimace. "I lost my grip."
As he was forced to strip ondeck to avoid dripping all down the stairs and making someone else slip he felt Mukuro's gaze on him. The man stared unashamedly and Dino didn't let himself flinch. Thankfully the water was cold; it was just what he needed to keep everyone else from knowing just how that made him feel.