Author's note: Mihawk and Shanks! There's no real age line (if there is it's very iffy with Oda) throughout the series, I've heard Shanks spent his teen years on Roger's ship? Or that he stays a bit longer? I'm going with the fact that he's around 15-17 when Roger dies, which would put Mihawk at about 19-21. Thank you for reading!

Again, this is dedicated to Caro, truly one especially is a weird series of drabbles, but hey it's something I think I'll never stop smiling over and hope will make you smile on a bad day!

Age: 17 and 21

"What do you mean you're gonna be the next Pirate King?" Mihawk questioned his fr-(cough cough strike that) sparring partner as he sat up. "You barely scrubbed his ship's decks!"

The redhead only laughed breathlessly, a grin on his face as the sun reflected off the sweat that coated it. "Exactly what I said! Some will be, so why not me?"

"...Why not you?"

Mihawk stared down at the laid back boy before sighing and laying down on the sandy beach. "I guess we'll see what fate has in store, won't we?"

Shanks laughed, covering his face with that straw hat. "That we will."

Age: 20 and 24

"Dracool.." Came the slurred call, that the stoic ignored successfully. "Draaacule.."

He was fine, he wasn't reacting to this, he wouldn't..

"Dra-" Damn it, why was it always like this since the marks had blazed across their skin. Three red swipes layered over a cross that couldn't be mistaken. "Dracule, stop thinkin' and come 'er"

Mihawk would never admit it, how just a simple request from his other half set him on fire or how Shanks' lips on his calmed it.

"Wish you'd told me years ago.." Mihawk's lips turned up as he was pushed back onto his lover's bed.

He would always wish he'd had the nerve to too.

Age: 28 and 32

Mihawk stared at the sleeve that lay, empty, by his side.

"You lost an arm." Shanks wasn't used to this, to Mihawk broaching a topic, to this.. "You got hurt.."

Shanks shivered at that tone, it was a tone he'd heard once or twice before, when this same man has decimated battalions without blinking. It promised death.

So Shanks did what he did best and distracted him. He sat on his lap and wrapped his legs around his waist, leaning fully against him. "Yes, I got hurt but.."

He could feel Mihawk tense at the word 'but' and threaded his hand through his hair, smiling up at him. "But I'm here, in your arms, alive and very much in love with you."

He watched the man still, his eyes widening, before he calmed again and gently kissed him. Ah, it was such a heavy kiss, sorrow and fear and so much goddamn love 'damn you and your heroic tendencies, you wonderful asshole' leaking through their bond. "Shanks.."

Shanks only chuckled and pushed him onto his bed, not letting him speak again until he was crying for release.

Not that Mihawk would ever admit he did.

Age: 32 and 36

Mihawk wasn't drunk.

Or so he would tell anyone that was listening.

"H-hey Mihawk-san." One of the younger crew members stammered, slightly starry eyed under the swordsman's gaze. "Why do you keep your facial hair l-like that?"

"Why?" Mihawk ran a hand along his face, a scary grin coming over it as he leaned back to lazily answer. "It's part of the persona.

Shanks may or may not have snorted into his beer.

The next morning, Shanks was awoken by one of the most undignified shrieks he'd ever had or have the pleasure of hearing.

"Where's my-" Mihawk gaped, staring at the mirror. "Where's my, my-"

"Your facial hair?" Shanks yawned, casually shoving the shaver further under his pillow as those piercing turned on him. "Not on your face."

They stared at each other for a moment longer, before Shanks grinned and Mihawk scowled. Mihawk jumped onto the bed just as he sprang to his feet and scurried to the door.

"Hey!" He winked as he opened the door. "I think you look hotter then Marco's flames when you're clean-shaven."

"SHANKS!" The door was closed just in time for his dagger to imbed itself in it, but not in time to shut out the redhead's laughter.

A month had passed, maybe two.

Shanks was laid back, yes, but he'd learned to be cautious.

So when he woke up one morning after another night of drinking, he'd have to remember to ask Mihawk what that great stuff he'd brought was, he just went about his business as normal.

He kissed his beloved on his forehead, slipped silently out of bed and into a warm shower.

He had hoped it'd be one of the occasions Mihawk woke up and they'd go for round five or six, but he settled for lazily washing off alone.

He didn't even open his eyes as he washed his hair and body, so attuned to his surroundings, he actually turned off the water and stepped out of the shower like that.

He hummed softly, tying his hair up in a towel and drying off, returning to his room to kiss his love awake.

As Mihawk slowly sat up, stretching and lazily throwing off the sheets, he dressed himself in another one of his usual outfits.

After he was fully dressed he pulled the towel off of his hair and turned to the mirror, finally opening his eyes to comb it out.

Only to freeze in shock as he saw himself with a golden blond locks in his reflection. He was blinking, still trying to figure out what, how, or why, when Mihawk wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"You didn't think I'd let you have the last laugh, did you?" The low chuckle that sounded in his ear as Mihawk nipped at was enough to make him blush, on another occasion, but right now?

All he wanted was to get the upper hand as the swordsman pulled away and walked to the bathroom.

Think think think..

"Hey, you're the one that's being done by this bleached blond babe." Mihawk turned to him and stared in disbelief. Shanks only grinned back.

"Garp?"

"Have you noticed that five fleets went down?"

"Yes, we noted. The crews were quite traumatized.."

"That's cause they're all wusses if I had trained..-"

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Weren't they all cut in half?"

"Yes."

"... Fuck. Up Mihawk's bounty again."

Age: 37 and 41

Shanks could have sworn he heard coughing.

His head swiveled back and forth as he checked his crew mates, before he slowly returned to his drink. The coughing had magically seemed to cease.

As the laughter and rowdiness of his crew increased, Shanks found himself subconsciously not drinking. After about an hour of this he looked over randomly, about to ask Mihawk if he wanted to leave (he never cared to be social anyway) to find him trying to hide a coughing fit.

Shanks at first stared in shock, the information not computing as Mihawk was indestructible in his eyes, at least until he noticed the sheen of sweat and telltale jug of booze in front of his other half. He had been trying to hide it.

You stoic bastard..

Shanks stood and walked over to the swordsman, not listening to whatever cockamamie story he was spewing, as he tugged him to his feet. "Bed. Now."

Mihawk blinked hazily at him, not breathing and probably suppressing coughs, before slowly nodding. Something in his expression letting the older man know he meant business.

Mihawk stumbled and fell onto Shanks' bed after he reached his room. "I'm fine."

"You're fine, you say." Shanks muttered, helping the man to roll over before walking to his bathroom to get medicine and supplies. "After tripping onto my bed. That you know how to get into better then your own."

Mihawk muttered something about how that was because they'd be fucking on beaches and how sand was evil as Shanks came back into the room.

"You just shush." Mihawk looked offended for all of three seconds before Shanks put a cool, wet cloth on his forehead and caused him to yelp in shock. "If you can't even handle this, you need help."

"I don't need-" Mihawk's mouth shut and his lips turned up as his lover kissed his cheek. "I don't.."

He was shushed again as Shanks forced him to take some medicine and drink some fruit juice. Disgusting.

However, he did begin to smile as Shanks repeatedly changed the rags and even, pushing his pride aside, slurred out as he fell asleep. "I don't know what I'd do without you.."

In the morning?

In the morning, he was shocked to find a rag on his forehead and a sleeping Shanks next to him.

Mihawk smiled and played gently with his love's hair, a guilty pleasure he rarely indulged in. After a few minutes, he whispered almost silently words that he would never have said to a conscious, living soul. "I love you too, you know, you just scare me with all of this talk of bigger things.."

Little did he know, as he got up and hoisted the captain into his own bed, that he'd been awake the entire time.

Not that Shanks would ever admit it.

Of course, Shanks' crew and the rest of the world wanted to know why he was so happy, so successful in all he did the next couple of weeks but..

When anyone asked? All he would respond with was: 'That's really none of your business, but I guess things are good right now' and laugh.

Age: 39 and 41

It's been too long.

Mihawk had been busy, training Zoro to survive, avoiding prying eyes.

Shanks being as overwhelming a powerhouse as ever, bringing more prying eyes near them.

So when Mihawk finds Shanks, it's not a party this time, it's a quiet reunion. They send everyone away, claiming it's a strategy meeting.

Then they're striping, but not making love yet. There's a slow appreciation for old scars and new.

"Someone nicked you again."

"Is that a burn?"

"Your crew should watch you better."

There's laughter at some of the jabs and some scattered tears at the thought of those lost since the last time they met. The government truly hates all thing pirate and they've begun to make it known more.

Then it's them, like they always are, lips shyly dancing and bodies molding.

They can feel the heat but also the love course from each other.

They don't pull back for hours, but when they do, Mihawk is the one for once to hold Shanks close.

"Please, be safe.." He murmurs, his grip unyielding as he strokes the red strands of hair.

Shanks cups his cheek and kisses his lips lightly, sweetly. It's a promise, but not.

"For as long as I can." It makes Mihawk smile(if you can call it that, only Shanks really ever called it that) as they lay together and talk aimlessly for the rest of the night.