Author's not: Whew. Probably am limiting my drabbles into a 500 word piece. This is almost a thousand. hngggh. The next request will be up probably by next week, so please be patient~! I am nearing my midterms, ya know? I have to study :(

This is for 917brat, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Me not own anything.

The crew of the red-hair pirates had just embarked on the shores of Sin Haven, an island known for its numerous pubs and bars and situated in ideal locations along the roads in the central town and of course, the red-light district was also very infamous with the visitors who travel to the place. As a general rule, pirates were accepted here, them being one of the main sources of income with their bar-hopping and drinking and other stuff.

It was not the most morally-straight place in the Grand Line, to be sure, but there was a distinct lack of riots and hostilities between the people in the place. Pirates who travel here, usually an unruly and rowdy lot, are still the same, of course, but they refrained from causing and participating in serious fights - they still fought, really , can't take that from them - and generally causing mass chaos everywhere.

The place was thought of a sort of a Haven of sorts, hence the name, especially for pirates. It was a lively, flourishing place, and nobody really wanted to be banned permanently from the island, which was the punishment for those who can't behave for a bit and just enjoy the pleasures that the Island had to offer.

In one of the bars in the Island, Shanks and his crew were merrily drinking away the night. It was noisy and rowdy, but the pirate crew was a fun lot. There was lots of grog, of course, and the food was excellent, really. Shanks pondered some of the unusual, foreign-looking food served along with the general foodstuff - which mostly were roasted hams and chicken and red meat, usual fare for bars that catered mostly to pirates - and decided not to think much about it. After all, they were excellent, and that's what it all was to it.

The bar, named FireWhiskey, was one of the newer bars in the place. It hadn't been present the last time Shanks had visited the place, which was why he decided to check out the place for the night. It was fairly large, had clean wooden walls and flooring, and had pretty waitresses and even a bartender who can mix drinks!

It was fairly early into the pirate's happy-hour when Shanks realized that they haven't had the supposed specialty and the namesake of the bar yet, the Firewhiskey, which is supposed to be so strong that it burns fire down your throat. Figuring that his crew ought to have some of the stuff, he called one of the waitresses over.

"Hey, where's some of the Firewhiskey I've heard so much about?" He asked gaily "Me and me crew want to have some of that grog!" Shanks added in a wink for good measure.

The pirates cheered, raising their tankards to indicate their approval of their captain's idea. The waitress giggled a bit and blushed.

" I ought to call the owner, he makes the Firewhiskey and he liked to see the people's reactions to it. Your order'll be here in a moment." And with that, the waitress went inside the door by the corner.

Shanks, of course, was a bit intrigued by the owner who, by the looks of it, made the Firewhiskey personally. The waitress came out eventually, accompanied by a young boy, a chore-boy of sorts from his looks, who carried the barrel that Shanks supposed had the grog inside.

"Here's the Firewhiskey, men!" Shanks said to his crew and they all came and had their tankards filled.

"ON A COUNT OF ONE, TWO, THREE, CHEERS!"

Then they all drank it in unison, including Shanks. Most of them choked and gasped a bit, marvelling at the burning sensation in their throat. Laughs of "THAT WAS STRONG!" and other various outcries were heard, along with some pirates being immediately knocked out after a few sips of the whiskey.

Shanks himself was impressed, He hadn't had a drink like this, ever. This Firewhiskey was a new one, hmm? His thoughts were interrupted by a low chuckle by his side.

"Good?" A long-limbed and lithe male inquired from his side.

Shanks turned to face this young and daresay he, attractive, man at his side.

"Good, yeah. Who might you be, then?" Shanks asked, taking in the man's exotic features. He was tanned golden evenly all over from what skin he could see, bright green eyes peeking out from long-lashed eyelids, with a leanly-muscled body with an assortment of scars in his arms and long black hair tied up in a high ponytail. Damn it, this one is seriously hot.

"Well, I am the owner of this bar, Pirate-san." The young man replied, leaning against a table, tilting his head just slightly, causing his unmarred, beautiful neck to be on display. Shanks might have drooled a bit at that point, because the man he was ogling at smirked a little smirk on that pretty mouth of his.

"Call me Shanks. Does the owner have a name then, hmm?" As he said that, he stood up and crowded that young man against the table with his body, gently tipping that dark-haired head upwards for Shanks to see those pretty green eyes.

"My name's Harry, but you could call me whatever you like." Harry replied in a husky tone, his pupils dilating and his hands tightly gripping Shank's coat. Shanks knew his eyes were the same, dark with arousal and desire.

"Let's get out of here then, kitten" Shanks purred into Harry's ear, before he brushed his lips over that of Harry's in a brief, chaste kiss, a tease for more.

"Oh God, yes." Harry breathed out and Shanks led Harry out of the bar for a long, hot shag.

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