I was originally going to write this a looooong time ago, but when I noticed Doflamingo was maybe going to have a big role in the upcoming arcs I had to wait and see how things would turn out in order to decide to what degree I would stick to the original story.
Buuut, then I got tired of waiting and went ahead with writing :P
Then my computer crashed and some story was deleted… I went ballistic and refused to look at the story for a long time. Then, after a long battle with myself, I sat down and finished it, finally!
Thanks to all you who have waited patiently for a sequel to my previous story! I am a slow writer, and I'm so sorry!
This story takes place somewhere between chapters 700 and 712, so yeah, spoiler alert!
And yes, this story is a sequel to "Flamingo Eats Crocodile"! This story takes place about half a year to a year after the incidents in "Flamingo Eats Crocodile", and in this time Doflamingo and Crocodile have been seeing each other at least somewhat frequently.
Warnings: This story does contain OP spoilers (about up to chapter 712ish)! Furthermore the story also includes male on male action! Slash, yaoi, call it whatever you want… Now that you have been warned you may continue at your own risk.
Disclaimer: Crocodile, Doflamingo and One Piece do not belong to me but to Eiichiro Oda.
Rain was pouring down from a gray, ominous sky. The droplets, though small, fell with such force that they drowned out all other sounds, even the roaring of the stormy sea. The downpour had lulled the world into darkness and the poor visibility had even the most experienced seafarers trembling at the mere thought of setting sails in this weather. It was almost as if the violent rain was daring anyone to step outside their cosy homes. But, not everyone is intimidated by storms, not even storms of such calibre as this one.
In a port town a ship stood anchored. It was rocking furiouslyas apprehensive waves tried to tug and turn it to their pleasure, but, as the ship was tightly secured the weather had not yet managed to damage the grand vessel. Water poured down hard on the wooden deck, and the constant pattering of droplets against wood reminded strongly of an erratic drumbeat. The never-ending stream of translucent liquid had also caused a thin layer of water to settle over the planks, thus making the deck very treacherous and slippery.
Apart from a tall, blond man the deck was empty of people.
The man, soaked from head to toe, walked with heavy, yet cautious steps over wet wooden planks, the water splashing slightly under his feet as he made his way towards the ship's railing. Without warning a high wave swept in over deck, and the man convulsively gripped after the wooden railing for support. Tightly, he wrapped his long, thin fingers around the clammy wooden bar, resting his whole bodyweight on it.
The blond, otherwise seemingly unbothered by the weather, shuddered somewhat as a sudden gust cut across the ship, tugging aggressively at his large, feathery jacket. The pink, fluffy feathers, by which the overcoat was completely covered, did not as effectively repel water as the plumage of a real bird, thus leaving the tall man frozen to the core. But, if this bothered him, he didn't let it show. The blond just stood there, completely still, gazing almost longingly out at the stormy sea. No matter how the wind tore at his clothes, or how much the rain endeavoured in soaking and chilling him, the man did not move. It was almost as if he stood there waiting for someone.
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Down in his cabin Crocodile's eyes shot open without apparent reason, waking him from a shallow and dreamless slumber. Something was off, the dark haired man could feel it in his bones. Without moving from the comfortable chair he currently occupied he started scanning each and every inch of the room in search of an intruder. But, he could spot no one. Still, Crocodile was sure of that he had felt an eerie presence in the air, and as suspected, when straining his hearing he could register unnatural sounds coming from deck. Footsteps.
Golden eyes briefly travelled over to a small metallic watch propped upon one of the many shelves in the bookcase. It read 10:12 pm. The dark haired man realised he must have, once again, fallen asleep while reading, and as he looked down he saw the book still lay sprawled open over his lap. Silently shaking his head Crocodile picked the book up and placed it on a table situated just next to his armchair; a comfortable one that Crocodile considered himself lucky to have become the owner of. The chair was made of dark, rich leather and it was soft, but not too much so. It didn't look over the top, but it was by no means modest. It held just the air of luxury that Crocodile required of his furniture.
While mentally going through his list of enemies, and trying to figure out who it could be sneaking around on his ship, Crocodile gently stretched his arms and back. His beloved armchair often invited him to sleep, but his body had never appreciated the after-effects much. The abnormal position always left his muscles stiff, and as if this wasn't enough Crocodile had lately noticed a dull but persistent ache building up in his lower back. Perhaps he really ought to stop reading before going to bed, at least if he risked falling asleep in the chair.
However, these were all trivial things Crocodile could mull over any night. Now, on the other hand, he better focus on the more pressing matter; the possible intrusion of his ship. And so, with brisk strides, the pirate left the room and the empty armchair behind and headed for deck to investigate further.
Careful, so not to cause a loud creaking noise, Crocodile took his time opening the door leading out onto deck. He put his right palm against the wooden surface while he let his golden hook press down on the door handle, pushing the door open with outmost care. Holding his breath the man let the door slide open, not fully, but enough so that he could observe a large part of the deck.
Rain was pouring down and the sky was dark, making it hard for the man's reptilian eyes to spot any movement even though they keenly scanned every corner of the water drenched ship. The fact that it was raining was also bad news for Crocodile. Water being the pirate's big weakness, he did not want to risk venturing out into the storm. Sighing, Crocodile yet again, with patience only acquired with age, let his eyes slide from one end of the main deck to the other, ready to activate his devil fruit powers if necessary. And his persistency did indeed pay off when his third try finally yielded results. He spotted the intruder, a man leaning against the railing on the far side of the ship. The rain might have compensated his vision, but there was no mistaking that pink, fluffy tuft. Crocodile would recognise it anywhere, and now more than ever Crocodile felt like blowing the damn flamingo back to whatever hole he had crawled up from.
Fuming, the man with dark hair walked out on deck, no longer bothered by the rain. Doflamingo was no danger, or at least he should not be out to hurt Crocodile. Only after having started his short journey towards the flamingo did Crocodile regret his decision though, as he realised he had let anger get the upper hand and rushed into a very disadvantageous situation. Here he was, out in the rain, soaked, and heading for a blond that without doubt had ill intentions, even though they might not involve directly harming Crocodile. However, it was too late to turn back now. The birdbrain had already caught scent of him. So, in order to keep his dignity intact, Crocodile reluctantly continued his walking.
He had but reached the blond's side before the large man had wrapped his feather covered arms around him and pressed his wet, cold lips against Crocodile's. The older captain had not even had time to react, nonetheless protest.
The kiss was desperate, needy and demanding. Crocodile found himself yielding into the pressure of the other's devouring lips, not because he felt forced to but because he was too bewildered to do otherwise. Something was off, he could feel it. Crocodile did just not know what that something was. What he did know though, was that Doflamingo wasn't playing by his usual rules. The blond was not playing any games, nor making any deals or bets for that matter. Actually Doflamingo was making no requests whatsoever. Not any verbal ones at least.
He was only demanding. Physically taking what he wanted.
True, the flamingo would never ask for permission, but this differed significantly from his usual behaviour.
Also, it was extremely unusual for Doflamingo to breach their agreement. There had been no misunderstandings between them when Crocodile had requested the pink idiot was to stay of his boat. In fact, Doflamingo had actually rather effortlessly agreed to not set foot on the ship and had seemed rather content with meeting up at hotels or other secure and secluded places. So far the flamingo had not once breeched this specific arrangement, and Crocodile had almost come to believe one of his wishes was actually respected, but it turned out to be yet another broken promise. The sand controller grew slightly bitter at the thought, mentally cursing the blond fool. Not that Crocodile had been expecting much, but with time his hopes had risen without him even noticing it. In reality, more than being angry with Doflamingo for breaking the rules the scarred man realised he was far more annoyed with himself for ever imagining the possibility of such a scenario. A world where Doflamingo would stick with his word did simply not exist.
Involuntarily the scarred man shook. It was cold, cold and very wet. His clothes had been practically soaked through with rain by now, and the gigantic man's dripping pink jacket made things no better. Crocodile could feel drops of water run down his cheeks, his back, his legs, hell, down every damn part of his body. On top of that the flamingo's lips were also icy, and wet. Neither the kiss, nor the embrace Crocodile had been forced into, held any of the passion that Doflamingo usually displayed through his actions. Feeling rather lacklustre Crocodile pulled away from the other and forcefully started pushing the pink mass of feathers away from him, his hand sinking deep into the cold, dripping coat in the process. The sensation of wet flamingo jackets were nothing he ever wanted to experience again.
His attempts to rid himself of the birdbrain, sadly, had a very low success rate.
Doflamingo, rather than giving in to Crocodiles wishes, started pulling more impatiently and harshly at the other pirate's clothes, dragging him closer. When at suitable distance the large man dropped his cold lips down to Crocodile's neck, tasting it, licking it, kissing it. Doflamingo might be enjoying himself, but the same couldn't be said about Crocodile. The former shichibukai's nerves had had more than enough of this stupid charade. Putting on a display like this on deck was not on Crocodile's list of favourite things to do, not even on stormy night like this when no one was around. Hoping to make the flamingo abide by his rules Crocodile silently muttered that they should continue things in a more private, significantly dryer, setting. Internally though, he hoped Doflamingo would calm down once inside.
The flamingo didn't acknowledge him at first, but when the raven haired repeated his demand in a slightly firmer voice Doflamingo, letting out a long, cold and shaky breath, nodded his head slowly. And so began the short walk back inside, Crocodile in the lead and a silent Doflamingo following hard on his heels.
It's quite short, I know, but more is to come!