This chapter contains graphic content.
-Part 2-
The Hands Will Take
-Now-
Doflamingo wasn't sure when he had passed out, but when he suddenly became aware of his existence, and when he attempted to open his eyes, he was greeted with a soft, stuffy sensation covering his left side.
He was no longer bound to the chair. This he discovered right away, for the pain that had taken hold of his entire spine was now replaced with the annoying dry rub surrounding his wrists, which were now tied and bound behind his back. A bit of wriggling around and Doflamingo noticed that his legs were also kept together. Not with rope, otherwise his thin ankles might have had a chance to wear and undo them, but with a softer and thinner material.
A large, rough-feeling bag was covering his head, and after some deliberation, Doflamingo decided not to struggle to have it removed from his head. His left side was still letting out a dull ache, and while it felt like his eye had been covered in something, Doflamingo didn't want to take the risk of further injury. He was in a lot of pain and moving around more than what was required of him only made him feel worse.
His right side, which he had apparently passed out on, was numb from resting on the concrete floor. Doflamingo wiggled and rested himself on his back, almost feeling relieved when he stretched it out and heard a soft pop release inside of him. He exhaled heavily through the nose, feeling the hot air spread around the loose bag that covered his head.
At this point in time, there was little he could do but wait, either for his friends to some and try to rescue him from his fate, should they decide to do so, or for him to dehydrate or die of exposure. If Miss All-Sunday was true to her word, then he'd wouldn't have to worry about being tormented.
He breathed in some stale air and let the taste linger in his mouth. It tasted cleaner, no longer carrying that heavy scent of decomposition. A lot had happened since he had lost consciousness. It made Doflamingo wonder. He wriggled himself again; making sure his sides didn't suspiciously ache or itch. He rolled over on his stomach, testing the nerves. After all, moving dead bodies often results in a lot of noise making, and while Doflamingo had been in quite a bit of pain prior to this, he couldn't help but feel drugs might have been involved in his aided sleep.
Also, he wanted to make sure he still had all his precious organs. If he were going to die, he'd prefer to experience it fully intact.
Doflamingo went back to resting on his back, letting his arms bare the minor annoyance of his weight. He was feeling hungry. He was also sore, his covered eye felt like it didn't quite fit into it's socket, and his back was still stiff from being held in place for so long, but Doflamingo still found himself distracted by the simpler, biological necessities.
Starving would really suck. Oh, and when it came time to relieving himself…
Of course, now that he was thinking about it, there was something eerie about him no longer being tied to the chair. Even stranger was his eye being covered up. Doflamingo could envision that him no longer being bound up to the chair meant that he might be tortured later, despite being told otherwise. After all, it would be easier to drag him around the room, and he could imagine that watching him being tormented would be more fun if could squirm around, but covering his eye made little sense to him. Sure, Miss All-Sunday could be dragging this out, and fixing the eye up now meant more opportunities to pick at it later, but seeing how cold she had been to him: after such a show it just felt wrong that she had taken the time to go down and fix him up.
His arms started to ache. Doflamingo flipped himself around and now rested on his stomach. He wasn't a fan of the sensation.
He wondered if this was it. It was a real shitty way to go. Doflamingo wasn't sure he could distract himself long enough before things got too desperate. He had already proven himself that he could break, that was half the reason he was on the floor, but continue breaking over time; getting thirstier, becoming delirious, hungry, weak and sore all over; how long would it take before he started pleading for death, filling the basement with the sounds of his dreadful moans?
Doflamingo huffed, filling the bag surrounding him with more hot air.
He didn't get his question answered. Doflamingo wrinkled his nose, holding in that urge to scream with the pain that developed and spread across the left side of his head. No, instead of an answer he simply got more questions.
He sighed. How was it that Mihawk was still finding ways to piss him off?
Doflamingo swung his legs, getting a feel of the tight bounds that kept them together. He let out as much energy as he could. It didn't help much. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, he grew tired; his head surrounded by hot air and carbon dioxide, and went limp.
He wondered if having him bound like this was part of the torture? The mental kind of torture. Doflamingo could wiggle around, get close to the stairs, maybe even inch his way up the stairs, but it wouldn't be enough for him to escape. Was that what she had in mind? Doflamingo didn't want to get ahead of himself, not when he was already feeling so miserable.
He closed his eyes, feeling the right eye grow damp as he gave a long sigh, letting it stretch and heat up the air around his head.
He wondered if he had what it took to bite his own tongue off.
-Then-
Early December in Doflamingo's house was somehow more silent than the rest of the year.
Crocodile watched Doflamingo turn on the stove, letting his fingers dangle just inches above the flame. Even while squinting, he couldn't make out the safety pin that was between his fingers. He rested an elbow on the table and took a piece of sliced apple resting on a small plate, listening to Doflamingo nervously chuckle as he pulled the safety pin from the flame.
"Don't eat my apple," the boy warned, walking over to the table. Crocodile continued to munch on the small slice while Doflamingo rested the safety pin on top of the plate. He licked his lips as Doflamingo removed his sunglasses, resting them at the edge of the table. Crocodile stared at the many slices left on the plate, wondering just how many times Doflamingo was planning to pierce his ears before taking another slice and plopping it into his mouth.
As an early Christmas gift to himself, Doflamingo decided he would be ruin his chances at ever getting pussy by getting his ears pierced. Crocodile tried to warn him that only certain kinds of men got their ears pierced, but much like every other suggestion he offered, Doflamingo merely brushed it off, insisting it was merely a myth, and that it only counted when you got one side pierced.
Crocodile supposed he ought to say something about it, considering how close Doflamingo was to committing the act. He couldn't explain why, but watching the boy standing uncomfortably over the sink, letting melting ice drip down the side of his face as he waited for the left ear to go numb, was actually kind of amusing. He looked over at the table, eyes on the small safety pin, piece of broken mirror, the used bottle of hand sanitizer, and the two silver earrings. His scar itched as he lingered on the safety pin, knowing full well that Doflamingo wouldn't have what it takes to stab himself in the earlobe. Sure, it supposedly didn't hurt, it was supposed to burn more than anything else, but that didn't change the fact that Doflamingo was full of shit and couldn't make it through a typical horror film without looking away or falling into a panic. A cruel smile spread across his face as the boy reappeared, rubbing his reddened earlobe while sitting himself down across from Crocodile.
"Stop eating my apple slices," Doflamingo groaned, looking down at the spaces where slices had once been.
"I doubt you'll be doing eight piercings today," Crocodile retorted, fingers hovering above the plate. "We'll be lucky if you get through one without passing out."
"You shut the fuck up," the boy snapped back. Crocodile grinned. Doflamingo didn't appreciate the response and huffed. "I know what I'm doing…just do what I tell you and keep quiet." The blond nervously played with his hands before approaching the plate and grabbing the safety pin. Crocodile slowly arose from his chair, taking the piece of mirror with him and spotting Doflamingo reach out for a piece of apple.
Crocodile stood in front of Doflamingo, holding the mirror fragment at Doflamingo's eye level, waiting for the boy to gesture that his view was just right. In the meantime Crocodile was left on auto-pilot, letting his mind wander, figuring it would be a while before Doflamingo even attempted to puncture his own flesh.
"Hold still," Doflamingo said.
"Mhmm," Crocodile replied, letting his eyes linger on the boy's shaking hands. It almost pained him to see this. There was nothing quite as pathetic as caring about someone, especially if that someone was a moron who never listened to reason. Crocodile wished he didn't have these sorts of feelings. He should be laughing now, taunting the boy to make his final move before taking in that glorious scene of Doflamingo either giving up, or actually stabbing his ear and breaking into hysterics.
Instead, there was a part of him that was starting to feel…concerned.
Crocodile looked down at the boy's ear and frowned. "Uhm…"
Doflamingo flinched. "What?" he snapped. There was no denying the boy was beginning to question his own actions now.
"You're pointed crooked," Crocodile said, pointing a finger at the needle. "It's not going to look right if you go at it…"
He watched the body beneath him exhale deeply. Doflamingo lowered the safety pin away from his ear, and Crocodile could see the frustrated look on his face, the way the skin burned red against his tanned skin. The blue eyes would fiercely linger on one object, then to the next, and finally himself. The pathetic teen was incredibly stiff with discomfort, and Crocodile could feel some guilt having brought it.
"Do you want some help?" He was careful with the phrasing. Doflamingo's pride was hurting over the simple mistake he was about to make. Crocodile made sure that this offer would be more on Doflamingo making the choice to accept help, rather than admitting he needed it. Of course, Crocodile didn't wait long to drop the makeshift mirror back on the table, while Doflamingo nervously stared at the safety pin, weighing his options.
"You won't just jab it in me?" the boy asked with some suspicion. Crocodile shrugged. There was only way to get a piercing, and it often involved some force to it. Doflamingo rested a hand against the side of his head, grabbing the worn-out leather that kept his goggles together. "Let me do you first…"
"I don't want a piercing," Crocodile replied.
Doflamingo pouted. "How can I trust you?" he asked.
"Go ahead and try it yourself," Crocodile said, shrugging again.
Doflamingo groaned, staring down at the safety pin, then over at the near empty bottle of hand sanitizer, and grimly at Crocodile's hands, treating them as though they might be tools of torture. "And if you fuck up?" the boy finally asked.
"I don't see how I could, seeing that I'll have a better vantage point," Crocodile answered smoothly. His answer want anywhere near hitting Doflamingo's comfort zone, and he could tell by the way Doflamingo stared suspiciously at him that he'd have to provide more than just his word.
"You know I use a needle every goddamn week," he added.
"Not sure if that's the same," Doflamingo replied.
"Ugh, whatever."
"No, wait!" Doflamingo nervously played with the safety pin before jumping out of his seat, struggling with the small device in his hands before handing it to Crocodile. "Like, if you fuck up…I get to do you."
Crocodile stared at the pin that had been shoved into his hand, the needle pressing lightly against his palm. "Excuse me?" he asked.
"If you fuck up," Doflamingo said, "then I get to do the same to you, how's that?"
Suddenly all compassion for Doflamingo's well-being began to shrivel and dry up. Crocodile scoffed. "Are you insinuating I'll mess up?" he asked.
"No…I'm just giving you a reason not to mess up," Doflamingo said. "I'm delicate."
"Ha, you?" Crocodile replied. Picking up the needle with his right hand and pointing it at Doflamingo. "Sit your ass down."
"So, is that a yes?"
"Yeah, fine, whatever," he said, letting Doflamingo take his seat. Crocodile grabbed an apple slice and stared at both items in his hands, feeling a growing anxiety as it dawned upon him that he would now be the one to pierce Doflamingo's ears. He stared at the boy's small earlobe, barely keeping himself from biting a lip as he wondered whether or not that part of the body would bleed out of something wrong were to occur. Not that it would. He knew what he was doing.
The chair was pulled out more so that Crocodile could do the piercing from the side. Due to Doflamingo's growing height, Crocodile couldn't kneel down without making it harder on both of them, and by this point it was becoming rather obvious that the two of them were nervous. He placed the slice against the back of the boy's earlobe, letting the safety pin inch it's way closer until it practically touched the skin. Doflamingo sucked in a deep breath, and Crocodile almost felt like he was about to commit murder.
"…"
"…"
"…you need to cut your hair," Crocodile muttered nervously. "It's starting to look messy."
He heard Doflamingo begin to exhale. "I'm…trying it out long," he said. Crocodile could almost feel how forced the boy's words were. It must be difficult, not knowing when he would make his move with the blasted needle. Hopefully the conversation would distract Doflamingo just long enough for him to calm down.
"You, with long hair?" he said aloud. "I'm not sure…"
"I'm not about to wear it long like a girl," Doflamingo replied. His voice was a little less shaky. "I just want to see how long I can get it…you should be happy."
"Why?" Crocodile asked.
"I'm not spending a ton of money getting it cut anymore," Doflamingo replied. "You're always complaining about my spending habits, well, now I-I-I-I-ah fuck!"
Crocodile grabbed the boy by the shoulder and kept him in the seat. He stared at the boy's reddened ear, the safety pin now held together with the aide of the apple slice. He stared wide eyed at the punctured flesh, surprised that nothing dripped from the newly created hole.
"God. Damn. It." Doflamingo whimpered.
"Don't make it worse than what it is," Crocodile said, leaning a bit and carefully examining the pin, then moving his other hand just enough to spot the end of the needle breaking through the slice of fruit.
"Not bad," he muttered. "You want me to wiggle it around for you?"
"No!" Doflamingo swatted a hand, forcing Crocodile to back off and let go of the apple slice. The boy winced, grabbing his ear and cradling it with one hand, the other wiping away a stray tear that was running down his face. "Shit…you didn't even fucking warn me!"
"If I did, you would have only moved," Crocodile replied, shaking his head. He stared at Doflamingo, the way his thin body shook, now filled with adrenaline, and the pout on his red face. Not a frown, just a pout, and with the way those thin lips formed, attempting to look pissed off, but coming off as damn near adorable. The tear didn't help one bit. Crocodile looked away, letting his smile replace the thoughts that lingered in his head as he walked over back to his seat at the table.
"So, we got fifteen minutes to spend," Crocodile said, grinning at the flustered boy. Boy. Doflamingo never looked more like a child till this very moment. With only the goggles on the forehead, nothing was stopping Crocodile from taking in the lovely view. "Unless you want to get another safety pin out?" he added, successfully replacing all sexual thought with more tolerable taunts and teasing.
"No, I'll wait," Doflamingo grumbled.
Crocodile watched the boy rub his swelling earlobe. "You're going to get that infected," he said, watching Doflamingo wince from squeezing the apple, resulting in a bit of juice dripping and irritating the new hole.
"I seriously doubt a bit of juice will infect anything," Doflamingo retorted. Of course, twenty-four hours from this point the boy would be complaining about the burning infection in his ear, of all things, and the two of them would be forced to pitch in the money, even though Crocodile would be anything but in the mood to help, in order to buy of decent creams to sooth the pain. None of this had happened yet, but Crocodile already knew it was going to happen. He watched sweaty fingers tap around the new hole and could practically smell it happening. The buildup of sweat that was to come certainly wouldn't help the cause.
Crocodile blinked, and quietly observed Doflamingo reaching out and grabbing earrings made for toddlers, sensitive steel that hopefully wouldn't cause any kind of allergic reaction, and then dipped the tip of the needle into the small container of sanitizer. Crocodile rested his elbows on the table, then his arms, and he smirked when Doflamingo separated the needle from the apple, and then slowly pulled the safety pin from the ear, making a series of uncomfortable faces from the soft sounds each action resulted in.
As Doflamingo struggled to place the earring in, several minutes too early, and Crocodile watched, only now half-amused, that warm feeling arose inside of him, again, this time slower, and Crocodile hadn't noticed until it was too late. He buried himself between the arms, his eyes lingering on Doflamingo. The boy raised the broken mirror up and stared at the new piercing, his new earring resting in the hole, and grinned, almost forgetting the fit he had before.
How strange was it that Crocodile could feel so happy after doing something so stupid? Doflamingo would surely want to get the other ear pierced now, and any chance of being taken seriously as an adult would be ruined because he already dressed like a fool, and now he had those stupid holes in his ear, and for some reason the smile on Doflamingo's face made it almost feel like it wasn't a big deal.
"It feels itchy."
Crocodile closed his eyes nice and tight, pretending he didn't hear those awful word escape the boy's lips.
Crocodile flicked the butt of his cigarette into the drain, making his way around the corner back towards Doflamingo's house. This grand neighborhood was starting to feel familiar. It was making less of an impression. Crocodile wondered what it meant. He walked passed the few houses, feeling calmer after a decent walk and smoke, though that worrying feeling inside of him kept on stirring.
He walked across the lawn, opened the door and could hear Doflamingo moving around upstairs. Little did both know the soap that got into the boy's new piercings would also contribute to the many issues the come the following morning. But Crocodile wasn't thinking of that. He wasn't thinking of anything right now, only those pesky feelings that were bothering him.
He sat himself down in the living room, letting his shoes rest on top of the table, attempting to make himself at home while Doflamingo finished getting dressed. But his something against the heel of his foot slipped, causing Crocodile to look over and spot a magazine in his way. He groaned, putting his legs back down so he move the magazine aside. He grabbed it, and was just about to toss it over, but caught a glimpse of the image covering it, and couldn't help but notice that underneath the magazine were a few more papers, so he stopped himself and held it in his hands, staring curiously at the cover.
"Hey, you there?" he heard Doflamingo call out. Crocodile quickly replied with an "Mhmm," still busying himself with the magazine, flipping through the real estates being offered, spotting a few pages that had been bent at the corner, obvious signs that Doflamingo's parents were at least considering a new place.
"Set up the Nintendo!"
Crocodile stared solemnly at the magazine before placing it back in the table. His eyes traveled over to the few sheets that had been underneath, unwilling to pick them up and figure out whether or not they involved assets, real estate, banks, or mortgages. Doflamingo's parents could afford to go anywhere they wanted.
He sank into his seat, crossing his legs and bringing a finger to his mouth to nip on as he tried to think about this new information that had been placed in front of him. Doflamingo would have mentioned something like this to him the moment he had found out. The fact that nothing had been said could only mean that this was recent, or that Doflamingo had been so neglectful of what was going on inside his home that he simply missed out on this. Either way, Doflamingo had no idea that he might be moving out of Arizona.
You can't take him with you. The words rang deep inside of Crocodile's mind. Should anything happen, resulting in them deciding to separate, Doflamingo would have nowhere to go. The boy was unprepared as it was, what would happen if he had no home to return to?
Crocodile then reminded himself that Doflamingo was going to grow up, that he was supposed to come to understand certain things. Perhaps if he told Doflamingo that his parents were looking at new homes, at the very least it would get to him that he would need to grow and accept some hard facts. They wouldn't have money. They'd struggle. Doflamingo probably wouldn't be able to ruin the world while working nine-to-five with no high school diploma under his belt. Maybe if he told Doffy all of this he might get a sense of whether or not the boy was ready to actually leave.
He remembered that Doflamingo was still a boy, a child really, and that there was the risk of him not taking the news at face value. He'd still cling on to that dream of running away, of getting all that he wanted, with his boyfriend, but still not be ready to face whatever the world chose not to offer him. Could Crocodile risk something like that?
He got up from the couch, heading over to the television, kneeling down to set up the gaming system before his hands froze in place. He held the system in his hands, feeling pressure build in his palms, spreading up his fingers, into his throat and across his skull. He squeezed the gaming system, holding tight until his hands stopped hurting, going numb from the insane pressure he was producing.
He stood up, taking a breath and letting his head spin for a moment, while asking himself why on earth he was so upset, especially when he hadn't yet made a decision? He exhaled, hearing the sounds of his nails scratching against the plastic surface, almost sure that the reason he was so upset was because he already knew what the answer was, but didn't want to admit it. Crocodile had done everything he could to provide himself the opportunity for change, to give himself the opportunity of transitioning further, free from familiar eyes. Wasn't that the plan? Doflamingo would only screw it up. He would ultimately tie him down to his old life. And there were just too many things to take into consideration. He couldn't bring Doflamingo, not if there was a chance his parents might move away. Doflamingo was still a boy. He was a stupid boy who wore goggles and made a mess of himself getting his ears pierced. His ears were fucking pierced!
Crocodile heard a loud noise, like something had snapped, been tossed, and made contact with something so hard.
"What the hell was that?" he heard Doflamingo yell. And when Crocodile looked down in front of him, he was welcomed with the sight of a destroyed Nintendo 64. He nervously bit the bottom of his lip, staring at the shattered device, impressed that he could do so much damage, but mortified that he had wrecked Doflamingo's favorite game system.
"Shit," he hissed.
"What the fuck?" This time the voice was louder, and clearer, alerting Crocodile that Doflamingo had left his room and was probably running down the stairs to witness this tragedy. Crocodile remained silently poised as he caught Doflamingo bending down and staring at the many cracks and exposed parts of his precious toy. And then up at him. Crocodile blinked, suddenly noticing the heat forming in fists that he had not been aware of. His face was burning.
Doflamingo brought himself back up. "Uhm…"
Crocodile frowned, realizing what had just happened. Oh, God, he had just experienced a temper tantrum. At nineteen.
"Are you alright?" Doflamingo asked. Crocodile could see, even with those stupid sunglasses in the way, that Doflamingo was more worried about him than the actual system, which made things all the more worse, because Doflamingo knew this was a fucking tantrum.
"No, I just broke your Nintendo," Crocodile starkly replied.
The blond looked down at the damaged system. "Better that than me," he heard him reply. Crocodile pressed his teeth together, so close to grinding them, feeling his hands burn and ache from holding it in for too long.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he asked, feeling his bottom lip beginning to tremble.
Doflamingo looked over at him. "I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "But you look like you're going to puke." The boy grabbed one of his red earlobes and rubbed it between his fingers.
Crocodile could feel himself biting his lips now.
"You know, this probably isn't a good time," Doflamingo said, "but you might really want to consider seeing someone about your anger problems…"
He sniffed. "I don't have anger issues."
"The last time you were upset you left my parents with a lovely hospital bill," Doflamingo muttered. Crocodile flinched when he felt a fingers touch his wrist. "And the time before that…you tried to commit murder."
Crocodile stared at the blank television screen, staring at the distorted reflection of himself, feeling his hand go limp so that Doflamingo could attempt to console him, while keeping a straight face, listening, but not letting too much show.
"And then you tried to go out into the desert, with no water," Doflamingo said, "and I'm not suggesting that it was a suicide attempt, but it might as well have been."
"No," Crocodile said, still staring at screen. He felt those fingers rub against his palm, always trying to tickle him and make him feel better, even though it was more of an annoyance, and it really only sort of worked when he was staring at Doflamingo. "But the time before that was."
He didn't really regret saying it, but he wasn't all that sure why he had said it in the first place.
"Oh," Doflamingo replied. He could hear the boy swallow uncomfortably. "Yeah." The finger moved away from the palm. Crocodile realized Doflamingo had had his left hand.
"So, uhm," Doflamingo grabbed the leather strap of his goggles with his free hand looking off to the side in a manner that could only be described as juvenile. Crocodile's head turned, no longer interested in staring at mere reflections, waiting for Doflamingo to get past that awkwardness of dealing with his own emotions, so that he could finally ask him, "do you…wanna talk about it or something?"
Doflamingo was right about a few things, stress being one of them. Hell, he'd give the whole love bullshit to the boy as well. He didn't react well to bad news. He broke things, and it didn't seem to matter what sort of things they were, including himself. And it seemed, ever since he was seven, that all he could do when faced with these problems was to lash out. But unlike the first time, there had been opportunities to talk about it. Every. Single. Time. Even the times where Doflamingo might have wanted to run away. The boy was always there, asking about it, always curious to know what was going on in his sick mind.
And now. "Why the hell do you even like me?" Crocodile asked. Stop.
Doflamingo brows raised, enough for Crocodile to interpret that the boy was shocked by this question. He watched regrettably as the boy shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just really like you. I think you look nice. You smell good. I mean, I guess I could do–"
"But why?" Crocodile asked.
"How the fuck should I know?" Doflamingo responded. "I don't get how love works anymore than you do." He crossed his arms, sighing to himself. "But…I do get the part where I envy everything you accomplished. How you proved to me that nothing is impossible."
Crocodile finally felt the nausea set in. He found himself clinging to the boy's hand, hoping to get some of the finger stirring that had been taken away just seconds ago.
"I want that," Doflamingo said. "I want everything you did, but much more. I want it so bad, but I don't know how to get there, yet."
"I don't understand," Crocodile said, shaking his head.
"Of course you don't," Doflamingo said, chuckling, stopping only briefly to lick his bottom lip. "But trust me, one day you will. Give me enough time, and I'll show you what I mean." Crocodile felt his heart begin to beat rapidly. The nausea transferred down, changing and mixing into a different kind of anticipation. "I'll fucking show everyone what I'm capable of, if given the opportunity," Doflamingo said. There was that word again. Crocodile nod his head. "One day, I'll tower over everybody…including you. And then you'll see what I'm talking about, and it'll be so awesome." The boy stared at Crocodile, with his sunglasses, unkempt moist hair, and wide, almost evil looking grin. It surprised Crocodile.
But then the boy blushed. "But the love thing," Doflamingo said, almost stuttering his words. Crocodile was taken aback. "I don't know why I actually like you, let alone l-love." And then he went back to being that same, painfully awkward teenage boy that couldn't even look him in the eyes. Crocodile couldn't blame him. The boy had just said that "L" word. Crocodile wasn't even sure he could put that word into his mouth.
Crocodile didn't forget what the boy had said though. He still didn't quite understand exactly what Doflamingo meant behind it, but he could easily assume that Doflamingo had some very big plans in mind. And it was becoming more obvious to Crocodile that the birdbrain of a boy viewed his transition very differently than some. Was it correct? No. But that fact that Doflamingo wished to surpass him because of it was sort of flattering.
"B-by the way," Doflamingo added, this time stammering enough for his voice to crack at the very end of the sentence. (And Crocodile could feel that flattery shatter almost instantaneously). Crocodile felt a tug taking place in his left hand, a though Doflamingo was struggling not to nervously play with his fingers. "When I say love," the boy said, his voice filling up with hot air and forced haughtiness, "I mean that in a more "emotional" sense. Like, well, what I mean–"
And then Doflamingo yelped, feeling Crocodile grab on tightly to the boy's hand with his left, pulling him out of the living room, practically dragging him up that flight of stairs, his face covered with his right hand to stop him from laughing and crying over how painful all of this was.
These days, everything brought pain. Please, stop.
Crocodile was quick to make his intentions more than apparent to Doflamingo. He only let his hand go when they were in the bedroom, and only to loudly shut and lock the door behind him. He turned himself around, and Doflamingo was there, greeting him with his thin, warm lips, and red embarrassed face. Crocodile grabbed on to it, feeling how hot the jawline was, in comparison to the ears, one hand sliding around the neck, feeling how hot everything was now, while letting Doflamingo have at his bottom lip: pulling it into his mouth, sucking it lightly, hoping to make up for being a teenager during such a delicate time.
Doflamingo took an uneasy step forward, Crocodile one step back, and he was pressed against the wall, his left hand letting go of Doflamingo to feel his temporary entrapment, while Doflamingo grabbed his sunglasses and threw them across the room, exposing those electric blue eyes, no longer feeling any shame and replaced with their usual confidence. Crocodile took some of it in, letting it relax him just enough for Doflamingo to move in further, pushing paste teeth and tasting strong nicotine remains inside the room of his mouth.
And then came that dreadful buildup of pressure right between the legs. Crocodile did his best to ignore it, still not entirely sure if he was ready to face it, putting his mind at ease with his right hand rising up and playing with the messy blond locks, fingers lighting grabbing and digging into it, feeling almost comforted when he heard Doflamingo react to it.
Doflamingo pulled away, taking in a short breath and wiping his lips from of any stray saliva, his face no longer beet red, but Crocodile could still make out the parts that still felt a little overwhelmed from using that word. Crocodile grabbed him by the hips and pulled him back in, hand back in the hair, his wet lips on the boy's neck, the right hand struggling to slide between the small gape of the boy's pants. He traveled down the rest of the neck, burying his face into the boy's shoulder, listening to Doflamingo's heavy breaths, his body otherwise limp and relaxed while Crocodile touched and took over it. He hand made it's way past the gap, beneath the pants and undergarments, and rested itself over the boy's buttocks, feeling it shiver underneath him before grabbing it and earning a shutter, a bit of the boy's voice trembling through the quick exhale.
Pleasure and pressure continued to pool inside of him as he beckoned Doflamingo to undo his pants, pulling the boy's lips back to his own, feeling his hunger grow and become uncontrolled while the boy struggled to undress, large hands grabbing hold of neck and rear end making keeping him in place. When did Doflamingo become the trapped one? Crocodile nipped and sucked on the boy's lips, smelling hot breath, like nicotine and something sweet, feeling more space being produced for his hand to travel further down, and feeling Doflamingo react to it.
He knew he couldn't fuck the boy. He watched though his lidded eyes, spotting Doflamingo's own go wide as his hand finally made it, rubbing the bottom cheek, his middle finger dangerously close to something Crocodile couldn't yet claim. Possibly ever. It didn't stop him from pursuing it. Crocodile went back down to Doflamingo's neck lowering the rest of his body so that he could reach the tight opening, felling the muscles around it quiver from his rough touch. He kissed the bottom of Doflamingo's neck, letting his tongue dip between the space of his collarbone, feeling the sweaty skin heave while he let go of the neck, rubbing against puckered flesh, hearing Doflamingo groan above him.
He felt arms grab him, pulling him closer. Crocodile could feel Doflamingo's erection against him, pushing past the thing fabric, and even his own. He could see it in his mind; vivid, hot, painfully stiff and already so close to bursting, and it made the pain deep inside him too much to continuing to ignore.
"Why are we stopping?" Crocodile felt his face stretch into a frown when he heard Doflamingo utter those painful words.
He could already feel it happening. Crocodile lowered his other hand, feeling it rest against Doflamingo's clothed stomach, almost too affectionately, and his body shivering once he made contact with the fabric. He knew Doflamingo was watching, impatiently waiting by the sounds of his noisy breathes. But Crocodile couldn't help but freeze, his mind racing for other options while a large portion of it began to panic over the ache. It was frustrating, but no matter what he did he couldn't quiet that dangerous thought that kept erupting in the back of his mind.
Would it even work? He stared down at the boy's underwear, spotting the bulge against the thin fabric, feeling his own body react to the sight of it with heat and a rapid heart beat.
He still wasn't sure. "Bed," he muttered.
Doflamingo looked relieved. "Yeah, that's a good idea," he replied. Crocodile said nothing in return, letting Doflamingo go ahead of him, nearly tripping over as he pulled his pants the rest of the way down before going at his top. He approached the situation carefully; choosing his top first, his eyes resting on Doflamingo once the boy was sitting on the bed, naked, waiting to receive the missed affection.
Doflamingo covered his face, fingers spread out as Crocodile undid his pants. "Are you going to keep on with the fingers?" he asked, his voice incapable of hiding the excitement.
Crocodile wondered how it must have felt. It certainly was an option. He gave only a shrug in response, listening as Doflamingo groaned, flopping back into the bed.
"You're killing me," the teen groaned. He spread his legs wide, exposing his self to Crocodile, not seeming to care how obscene he appeared. "I swear, if this is your way of just letting out more steam…"
"It's not," Crocodile said. He stopped and realized that he had sounded so nervous saying the words. Doflamingo, still resting on the bed, turned his head and looked upwards at Crocodile.
They looked needy. Crocodile could see how bad Doflamingo wanted it too.
His teeth pressed together. Crocodile pulled his pants down, walking over and getting on top of the bed, at first hovering over Doflamingo, but lowering himself so that he could rest on top of the boy, immediately rubbing his self against Doflamingo. Their lips met again, and Crocodile wanted to shake his head when he felt Doflamingo smiling against him. He began stroking the boy's penis, rubbing his thumb against the moist tip, feeling the body underneath shake and jerk under his firm grip. Hands grabbed his hips. Crocodile felt himself stiffen from the contact, feeling Doflamingo trying to push him off to the side. He told himself to remain calm, not let his own thoughts get the better of him, and let Doflamingo guide him so that the two were resting on the bed, facing one another, Doflamingo's hands now capable of reaching down and pleasing the young man's neglected parts.
This was a little too intimate for Crocodile's taste. It was nothing more than some mutual masturbation, but seeing Doflamingo blushing and stupidly smiling at him, getting off at the way his hands gripped and massaged the penis, along with those blasted fingers rubbing Crocodile, made everything feel a a bit too personal. And Crocodile knew what was going on down there, and he had to figure that Doflamingo could tell as well. He almost wished that one of them would mention it, even though it would kill his pride.
"This is hot." Doflamingo inched his way closer, still giving them the space necessary to move and pleasure each other. Crocodile winced, not feeling quite the same. Was he talking about this, or something else? Was he talking about below? Crocodile's eyes stared down, but could not see anything other than the boy's chest. He grew nervous.
"Are you ok?"
Crocodile looked and realized that Doflamingo had stopped, that he had slowed down, and that the stupid smile was nowhere to be seen. The blond inched further, bringing himself right up to Crocodile's pale face. "Did I go too far?" he asked. Another stupid question from the stupid boy. Of course he hadn't gone anywhere near that area. Crocodile would have noticed right away, and would have reacted. It pissed him off that Doflamingo didn't even sound remotely annoyed. It made him so angry.
"No," Crocodile finally answered. He felt warm liquid in-between his hand and the shaft of Doflamingo's penis. Doflamingo had to feel liquid as well. There was no way he didn't notice what was going on down there.
"Do you…want to stop?" This time Crocodile could make out some disappointment. But that was to be expected. And Crocodile really didn't want this to end, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel.
No. Crocodile stared at Doflamingo, feeling his chest fill up with icy fear, thinking about how unfair it was that he had been born with nothing to give, designed only to take. And even though he had undergone so much work, and would undergo more in the future, it didn't change the fact that there was, and always would be, a desire to receive and take it all in. And it made him sick to his stomach to think that he wanted to take it right now.
"No," he said, looking away dismissively. He swallowed and felt how dry his throat had become. He lifted his leg, moving it forward, not high enough for Doflamingo to catch on what as on his mind, but enough for the boy to react, grab it gently, his hand going straight back between the legs, probably under the assumption that more friction was needed. Crocodile had to look back at Doflamingo, who was now preoccupied with a new task, and had to stop him, feeling his hands tremble as he shooed Doflamingo's away, moving closer and watching Doflamingo's eyes fill up with minor confusion.
He pressed himself against the blond. Doflamingo had no problem with it, but still appeared lost, and Crocodile's pride wouldn't let him utter what was on his mind. He shifted his leg, letting it rest against Doflamingo, hoping he could just get what he wanted without having to admit it. This was already difficult. He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to breath out all the anxiety out of him before looking Doflamingo in the eye. He stared back, eyes on Crocodile, at their incredibly close proximity of one another, his nose flaring a little before letting on that he understood.
He let out a low chuckle. Crocodile could only guess how long Doflamingo had waited to get permission to enter, but dismissed the thought. And then he felt the hands slide up his leg, shivering in that very childish manner, because although Doflamingo might have been fantasizing about this moment, there was no changing the fact that he was probably just as nervous as he was. Crocodile felt the erect organ press against him. He felt his face burn. Something inside him flipped. Doflamingo's eyes lidded, his mouth opening and letting out a soft moan as Crocodile felt that gash between him spread and split, the tip touching moist hot flesh, and so very close to a part of the young man that he had worked so god damn hard to ignore.
And it scared the hell out of him. Suddenly Crocodile felt nothing less but overwhelmed, frightened over his choice, and realized that he wasn't quite ready for this. Doflamingo moved in to kiss him on the lips, and Crocodile couldn't help but look away, feeling his throat tighten and his mind fill with white noise.
Maybe it was the setting. Stop. Or maybe he was better off receiving this sort of affection from the rear end, or just not at all. "Hey." Hands reached out to his chin, trying to pull his face over to that neglected kiss. Stop it.
He swatted the hands away, pulling his leg back in as he tried to regain a more calm demeanor to better explain himself. He felt Doflamingo persist, reaching out again, only for Crocodile to be forced to push the hand away once more.
He sighed, feeling confused and miserable. Doflamingo touched him again. He closed his eyes, trying to think up a reason for why all this had occurred to begin with. Doflamingo whispered something, but he paid little mind to it, still brushing away naughty fingers in hopes of having a moment's peace before being forced to explain why he had pussied out. And then Doflamingo nudged closer. Crocodile would have made comment regarding the blond's intelligence, but was distracted by a hand grabbing on to his, hoisting his wrist up, the other on his leg, spreading it and practically holding him into place, and no sooner was he aware of Doflamingo grasping on to him did he feel the boy's cock press against him, pushing, spreading, splitting, tearing him in half.
He had expected there to be some pa–No more, please.
…Why? Why did we love him?
He chocked, reflexively No grabbing on to Doflamingo, feeling his eyes burn, welling up with tears Stop that he had no control over. Why think about this now? He couldn't quite bring himself to respond. His mind
No.
Why are we still thinking about him?
No more.
-Now-
Doflamingo's eye's fluttered open when he heard the sounds of footsteps on stairs. He was thirsty. He blinked a few times, and noticed that his eyes were fixating in tiny light fragments, which meant the light had been turned on for Miss All-Sunday.
He remained in his current position, keeping his breathing nice and slow, trying to mimic sleep as best as he could. Doflamingo listened to the sounds of the weight being pressed against the stairs. A strange thought occurring when he noticed something was amiss with the sound. The girl had been wearing boots with heels, and she had been so quick and light on her feet. The footsteps he heard were harder, smoother, and seemed to drag, as though the intruder were creeping their way down. They weren't a woman's step, that was for sure, and it made him very nervous to think who might be on the other side of his restraints.
He heard the heels click against the concrete floor. Doflamingo's mouth opened a little, tasting some clean air that made it's way through an open door. With it he could tell that all decomposed remains really had been cleaned out of the room, and he simply hadn't grown accustomed to the taste of death and gore. A good sign, but still worrying.
The footsteps continued, circling around his body before coming to a halt in front of where his head lay. Doflamingo closed his dry lips together; feeling that foreboding sensation hat something horrible was amiss. He remembered Miss All-Sunday mentioning a boss. His nosed flared and he suddenly could detect something bitter in the air that reminded him vaguely of cigarettes but stronger, heavier.
He heard something flick, metal clinking against metal, and felt something warm land against the bag that was pressed against his cheek.
"I know you're awake."
The voice was low. It was a little hoarse, but the sound of it, low and dreadful as it was, rang deep inside of Doflamingo's heart, and filled it up with every emotion under the sun. He might have smiled, but then he remembered the situation he was in, and no sooner did he realize that he was bound up, face covered in darkness, did the worst feeling consume him.
His body shook, and Doflamingo couldn't help but rub his wrists together, hoping to feel them magically come undone and save him from this premature reunion. Of course, they remained tight around his irritated skin, and felt his bottom lip ache when he bit into it, listening to the low, slow chuckle that rang above him.
Staring out into the almost-darkness, Doflamingo forced a smile on his face. "Forgive me." He cringed when he heard how terribly shaken his voice was. "But…I never imagined any reunion between us working quite like this."
"Oh?" Doflamingo almost heaved when he heard a sound from above. He turned his head upwards, his good eye catching the growing shadow, determining that the body right above him was coming to a squat. He stared up, amazed at how what little light that permeated through the musty old bag created a veil, and even then, the light that surrounded the form above him...it was almost like staring into a heavenly silhouette.
"I thought you were dead, Crocodile."
He could smell the burning tobacco wafting through the air, sinking through the rough fabric and filling his nostrils. There was a soft, low sounding sigh. He watched the shadow reach out and grab the bag from the bottom, yanking it up and exposing Doflamingo to the dull light of the room.
He squinted for a few seconds, giving his right eye a few seconds to adjust before staring up at the figure that was now standing, practically towering above him. He stared at the worn out scar, the dark hair, the golden eyes, that golden hook, and what had to be the most frightening grin he had ever laid eyes on.
"Surprise," Crocodile muttered, exhaling a long stream of smoke through his grin.
End Part 2
