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“I should stick with the Red Hair Pirates and get out of here safely!” is what Buggy had told himself when Shanks had shown up out of nowhere. “Lucky me!” he’d thought as he had walked past dozens of angry Marines with a smug grin on his face. What were they gonna do; oppose an emperor? Ha!
That confidence and smugness had mostly faded by now though, as the Red Force set sail and it slowly dawned on Buggy that he was stuck with Shanks. On a boat. Surrounded by overly excited convicts and undoubtedly some of the strongest pirates in the world.
Not that he was worried that anyone was going to try to kill him. Even if anyone held a grudge for him, Buggy was pretty resilient. You think a guy like him would've made it this far without his keen sense of survival?
Yeah, no, nobody was out for his head and he wasn’t worried about that anyway.
His actual concern was with Shanks. Who knew what that man was thinking, honestly? He’d clearly had a goo-oooood… bad…? A reaction to seeing Buggy. The dullness in his eyes had made it impossible for the clown to tell how he felt. And that made him kinda worried- for his own wellbeing, first and foremost!
So he might have been keeping his head a little lower than usual, keeping an eye out for a particularly red head of hair. But he wasn’t avoiding him, nonono! Why would he be avoiding Shanks? What a ridiculous idea to even suggest! God, even the thought of doing something like that to a pirate like him was entirely preposterous! Gyahaha!
…okay, he was avoiding him. Cat’s out the bag. But listen, in his defense; it’s been 22 years since he’d even seen the guy. And remembering how they parted ways back then? Buggy wasn’t exactly eager to know if Shanks held even an ounce of the same grudge as he did.
“Are you avoiding me or something?”
Buggy nearly jumped out of his skin. In the moment, he had to genuinely curb his fight-or-flight response to shed a limb like a gecko and escape in any direction. With a strenuous gulp, he turned around, leaning his hand on his hip and his elbow on the wall he’d been standing by.
“Heyyyyyyyyy, Shanks… Nooooo, why would I ever do such a thing??? Gyahaha!”
Real smooth, man.
What, Buggy didn’t know what to say! Shanks was smiling in that cool and confident way he usually did right now, but… no, his eyes were definitely still hollow!
The swordsman laughed slightly at his antics, and the sound stirred a distantly familiar pit in the clown’s stomach. His voice was obviously deeper now, but Buggy couldn’t shake the reluctant memory of a boy with sunkissed skin in a straw hat- he nearly smacked himself right then and there.
“Well, whatever you were doing doesn’t matter… I’ve been looking for you since we set sail, you know? Had my crew assuming you’d jumped ship or something.”
Shanks chuckled when he spoke, though it was obvious to tell that his tone was humourless, and he was averting his eyes.
“Let’s talk, Buggy… it’s been twenty years after all.”
“Twenty-two, actually.”
He corrected him before he could catch himself. Buggy bit the insides of his lips shut and kicked his left ankle with his heel, grinning awkwardly as his eyes darted around for any out of this interaction. Now he really wanted to ‘pop’ his hand off at the wrist and drop it on the floor as a distraction to make an escape.
“You’ve been counting, huh…?”
God, he could only fucking imagine the smug grin on his face. Buggy laughed stiffly, his voice lightly quavering with unease, and he scratched the stubble on his chin with another strained and awkward grin, eyes still averted.
“Eheh, no way… Listen, Shanks, I’m really not-”
“Come on, Buggy! Let’s have a conversation, just the two of us,” Shanks insisted, smacking Buggy’s shoulder and inadvertently knocking him off-balance. He pushed himself upright and sent the redhead a scowl, immediately forgetting his inhibitions as he punched Shanks’ shoulder in return.
“Never stopped being so damn pushy, did ya!? Asshole…” he snarled, beating the heel of his fist into the swordsman repeatedly out of frustration. Buggy wasn’t exactly much of a heavy hitter though, so they were really rough pushes at best.
“Haha, well, since you’re still so lively, you’ll have no issue having a chat with me, hm?” Shanks hummed through gentle laughter, making no move to block Buggy’s “punches” if you could even call them that. “I have a room below the quarter deck if you want to go somewhere private.”
Buggy scoffed, grasping Shanks’ collar with both hands and shaking him back and forth forcefully as he yelled at him.
“Hell no!!! Screw you!!! I’d rather jump ship!!!”
…okay, maybe he’d been a little dramatic.
In his defense!!!!!! Buggy had realised that staying on deck, or really anywhere on this ship, meant at least a dozen fanboy convicts at his heel like annoying little puppies. And he wasn’t really a dog guy.
Though, there was a vaguely dreadful feeling creeping up on him from just being in isolated proximity with Shanks. Not scary, just, like, weird. The kind that made his tongue feel icky in his mouth, you know? Or something.
“Soooo… you, uh… wanted to talk? With me?”
Shanks, who had been standing idly at arms length and mostly staring at nothing, raised his eyebrows and glanced at Buggy. A faint smile curled his lips, and he turned himself to face the clown directly.
“Yeah, it’s been a really long time hasn’t it? Though, I must admit, I’m a little overwhelmed with the things I’ve wanted to ask you…”
Buggy squeezed his lips together awkwardly and tapped his fingers on his thighs. He felt unusually sympathetic for once, giving Shanks a minute to collect his thoughts. He could hurry it up a little, though. Standing around quietly like this made his tongue feel too big in his mouth.
“Where did you go?”
The clown subtly gulped at the question, his eyes trained on the wood detailing of the floor between his boots. The room felt too tense for him to willingly meet Shanks’ eye, so he kept his head down as he fidgeted with the fabric of his glove.
“Nowhere, really…” he mumbled quietly. An underwhelming answer, but it wasn’t a lie.
What was he supposed to say? “I stayed in East Blue for most of my life because I couldn’t possibly see myself crossing the Grand Line without you.”
He’d sooner return to Impel Down. Eurgh, even thinking about that place made him shudder reflexively.
“Stuck around, made a name for myself… nothing grandeur like being an emperor…”
Buggy frowned, lifting his arms and crossing them over his chest to keep himself from fidgeting so damn much. It was a subconscious habit, a quirk he wished he’d rid himself of when he was younger.
“I’m glad…” Shanks sighed, running his hand through his hair with a relieved expression.
What? Was he happy that Buggy was practically a nobody next to him? He clicked his tongue and tightened his grip on his own arms.
Of course Shanks would be thrilled about it. He’d always been revered by everyone around him, it’s only natural that he’d be possessive of that position. And he’d had the audacity to give up on finding the One Piece.
“Buggy?”
Buggy shook his head in light surprise, snapped out of his own thoughts as his attention was forced back on Shanks.
“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
The swordsman had the faintest hint of a pout on his lip, so subtle that Buggy definitely must have imagined it.
“...did you miss me like I missed you?”
…pardon?
Buggy glanced between Shanks and the wall in confusion. He wanted to point at himself and ask him to repeat what he said, but honestly, he didn’t want to hear it again in case he’d heard him right.
He was fucking with him, he had to be, right? Nice try, Shanks, he wasn’t an idiot. Clearly, he was trying to lower Buggy’s guard, feigning a moment of vulnerability to get him while he was down. Newsflash, fuckass! Buggy saw right through his subpar conniving!
…he was overthinking it again, wasn’t he?
Damn it, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. He had to find an excuse to get out of here and quickly.
“I… yeesh, look at the time! I’ve totally gotta take a piss! I’ll be going! Now! Right Now!”
Buggy moved his rigid limbs and took a single step forward. He would’ve continued, but he was stunned by the sound of Shanks practically yelling, stopping him in his tracks.
“No, Buggy, please-... don’t go just yet…”
Shanks’ voice was louder than Buggy had expected. He paused, reobserving the mood he’d clearly entirely misread. The tension made his lip curl unpleasantly, his stomach churning vaguely with how heavy and rigid the vibe was.
Begrudgingly, he took a step back and glared at Shanks, having a much more acute grasp of the unsavoury atmosphere than before.
“Convince me.”
The swordsman pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, soaking in the silence shortly before slowly reaching his hand out to Buggy, speaking much more gently than before.
“I’ll do anything. Anything you ask of me..”
Buggy blinked at him, lost for words as he dug his fingers into his palms. He stared at his outstretched hand with a sliver of wistful expectation, but ended up simply waving his hand dismissively with a scoff.
“I don’t want your empty promises.”
“Please.”
Shanks clasped his hand tightly, and that finally forced Buggy to look up and meet his gaze again.
He had a slight glimmer in his eyes, the warm, familiar brown finally shining faintly with a pathetic, hopeful expression on his face. An expression of desperation, of miserable yearning. Buggy’s lower lip trembled. He dug his teeth into it, making his face curl into a frown.
“Eat a devil fruit and jump into the sea.”
Buggy felt Shanks tighten his clutch, and he let his glove slide off his hand as it was tugged, unmoving as the garment was pulled away and Shanks held his hand again.
“You’ll have to give me the time to find one first.”
Bullshit.
No, Buggy had to admit, his spur-of-the-moment demand would be impossible to fulfill just like that.
Reluctantly, he tensed his fingers in the parody of a handheld embrace.
It could never be more than a parody.
Not with that hand.
“Apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Shanks held Buggy’s fingers in his hand, bringing them up to his lips to press a tentative kiss on his knuckles.
His eyes twitched with the distant sting of tears, and Buggy furrowed his eyebrows to keep them from misting. The result was an angry frown that desperately tried to harbour once burrowed emotions that threatened to spill in tears and begging.
God, he hated how disgustingly vulnerable he felt right now.
“What do you want from me ?” he spat before he could swallow the remark. If he didn’t spill his impulsive words, he feared they would form as pathetic tears, and honestly, Buggy couldn’t stand even the simple thought of crying in front of his past like that.
Shanks hesitated, his body still as he thought about it. He clearly hadn’t expected the enquiry, most likely assuming Buggy wouldn’t even have given him a second thought.
Though, as quickly as he was caught off guard, he looked him in the eye again, shifting the position of his hand slowly to lock their fingers together. Thorns ached in Buggy’s throat, and he was desperately pushing away the thought that this embrace felt wrong.
“I want you …” Shanks admitted, squeezing Buggy’s hand gently as his eyes flickered to stare at the ground. His lip quivered as he continued to speak softly. “I want you next to me, like we used to be… I want to hold you, Buggy…”
Buggy clenched his right hand and bit his cheek bitterly. Wouldn’t that be something, huh?
To pretend that everything was fine and just accept that half assed apology? The idea that he would ever do something like that made him feel ridiculed. Words so painfully simple were not enough to take away so many years of grief.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes with the pretense of dismissal and praying that it would clear the moisture in the corners.
“Yeah, yeah, why don’t you suck my fucking dick too while you’re at it?”
Shanks raised his eyebrows in stunned silence, hardly even hesitating as he inched his face closer to Buggy’s until he felt his breath on his lip. “...is that what you want from me?”
His lips were right there. Buggy felt his arms and back become riddled with goosebumps, eyes locking traitorously on Shanks’ lips.
They were right there. It would be so easy if he just swallowed his pride. Just lean in. Just do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Just fucking do it.
Buggy pinched his thigh through his pants with his right hand. No way, he wasn’t doing it. He couldn’t kiss Shanks because it would mean his resentment would have been a total waste.
Years of holding a grudge for nothing. Buggy couldn’t acknowledge that.
With his teeth digging into his cheek, he flickered his gaze up to avert his eyes nervously. There was no hiding the fluster on his face, but maybe he could still deflect his way out of this?
“...would I have said it if I didn’t?”
Not like that!!!
He felt Shanks’ hand tighten its grasp on his, and he had a stinking feeling that there was a dumb, puppylike grin on the man’s face. Buggy glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
…there wasn't.
His expression was puppylike, sure, but… god, he looked pathetic. Even at just a glimpse, Buggy could see the unpleasant lipbite and mildly furrowed eyebrows. Was he… upset??? What?
“...I’ll do it.”
What???
Just like that?
Buggy was having a hard time fully grasping the situation.
Before he could assess his own thoughts, he noticed Shanks leaning closer.
Oh god. He was going to kiss him.
Reflexively, Buggy slipped his hand out of Shanks’ grip and lifted it up to his face covering his mouth with the back of his fingers
“I don’t want to ruin my lipstick…”
What a stupid lie, his makeup was always smudge proof. It would be tacky for him to have red stains on his gloves all the time after all.
He knew that Shanks was more than able to tell he was lying. But he didn’t push the issue to his surprise. Gently moving forward, he pressed his lips on the palmar of the fingers covering Buggy’s mouth.
The clown felt himself frowning subconsciously, never looking directly at Shanks as the swordsman ghosted his fingers on his waist. Buggy was guided slightly backwards, the back of his knees hitting the bed behind him, and he sat down on the edge of the mattress. Honestly, he’d entirely forgotten they were in a bedroom at all. The disturbingly palpable tension wasn’t exactly sexy, you know?
Shanks took off his cape and held the fabric in his teeth as he folded the garment a few times before placing it on the floor in front of him, and he steadily crouched down to rest his knees on the article.
Had the situation been different, perhaps Buggy would've made a joke. Something about how his knees weren’t what they used to be. Thinking about time only made his brow furrow with a vague feeling of remorse.
His pants were unzipped quicker than he’d liked. The longer this took, the more time he’d have to catch up to the feelings he had yet to address, you know? He felt like he was mentally repeating himself a lot.
With only a little bit of struggle, his dick was pulled out of the confinement of his boxers. Fuck, he was already rocking a semi. Great way to give the wrong impression, asshole, now he was going to think Buggy was into this.
…was he into this?
Shanks pressed his palm back on Buggy’s waist with a gentle clench, pressing a hesitant kiss to his tip and slowly caressing his lips down his shaft. The vein on the underside pulsed headily, and Buggy nearly forgot how uneasy he felt right now.
Lips locked around his cock, and the swordsman’s eyes fluttered up to stare at Buggy as he gently bobbed his head.
The clown covered his face with his palm, shamefully breaking the gaze that threatened to meet him if he kept looking at Shanks.
“D-don’t look at me… not with those eyes…” he whispered, barely audible to even himself.
With what eyes? What eyes did he not want looking up at him?
The dull, lightless eyes? The ones that looked as though they had been stripped of all joy? The eyes that made him look the husk of a man once beaming with life?
Or was he afraid of seeing the kind, warm cinnamon brown eyes he remembered? To see the same tender affection from decades ago? The eyes of a boy he used to know and treasure?
Buggy subconsciously detached his tongue in his mouth with how hard he suddenly bit down on it, and his jaw clenched violently with how roughly his teeth clashed together.
No… no, this wasn’t anything like the wonderful reverie he’d always imagined it to be. But Buggy had gotten himself into this mess mostly of his own liability, as much as he wanted to blame Shanks, and he would be damned if he dared quit halfway through simply because he was more uncomfortable than he’d been since he was a teenager.
Reluctantly, he looked back at the eyes of the man whose lips were currently pressing into his groin.
Shanks was, of course, still looking up at him as he worked his cock. He was right, the eyes that met his were dull and somber, and he could see the faint misting of tears in the corners. Buggy felt a surge of nauseating shame at the sight. Shame that had his member pulsing within the confines of his mouth.
His hand seemed to move on its own, fingertips brushing against the swordman’s forehead with a caution he didn’t think he’d ever been gentle enough to carry. Even as his throat stung unbearably from the guilt, he couldn’t help but tangle his fingers in Shanks’ hair, soothing at first though quickly getting more rough as his grip tensed in his locks.
Swallowing the guilt momentarily, Buggy tugged Shanks upwards by his hair. The movement had his tongue caressing the underside of his shaft, and Buggy found himself grinding into his mouth slightly to chase the feeling.
Fuck , his lips felt so fucking good on his cock. He shouldn’t be getting so much pleasure out of this, should he? The fact he was even still hard, let alone harder than he’d probably ever been his entire life, was ridiculous to say the least.
His hand was still urging Shanks to suck his cock by itself, and there was a mild look of humiliation in the swordsman’s eyes.
Gulp. His dick throbbed again.
No fucking way.
No, this was so wrong on so many levels. Buggy was getting one of the worst blowjobs he’d literally ever experienced, and yet he’s never felt so fucking… eugh, even thinking about it was making him scowl.
Although he would never admit it aloud, Buggy felt his spine tingling with the telltale signs of his approaching climax, embarrassingly faster than he usually did.
He pushed Shanks’ head down with every grind into his mouth, hissing his breath through his teeth and quietly panting. The disgust he felt with himself was only getting him more aroused. Buggy needed to cum now so he could get out of this as soon as possible.
A gasp spilled from his lips, and as his cock pulsed from the beginnings of a climax, he roughly tugged Shanks’ hair, releasing his shaft from the confines of his lips. His release spurted on the swordsman’s face as he came, shooting his load over his features and making a shameful display of the man.
Shanks coughed slightly, holding his throat as if it ached.
Buggy knew he should feel guilty about being so belligerent, but he couldn’t think of anything but the deplorable arousal he got out of demeaning Shanks like that. He nearly gagged at the notion.
With a scoff that was more embarrassed than bitter, Buggy nudged the swordsman away by the shoulder and pushed himself upright. He quickly tucked himself back in his pants, already making a beeline for the door.
He couldn’t stay here and look Shanks in the eye, it wasn’t right. God, agreeing to talk privately had been such a dumb fucking idea. Honestly, he should have turned himself straight in to the Marines instead of even thinking he could have handled something as emotionally complicated as facing his childhood friend on this stupid fucking ship.
“Buggy, wait!”
“I should go-”
“I love you.”
Buggy froze for a moment, his fingers tensing around the doorknob hesitantly. He bit his cheek brutally, bruising the inside of his mouth with his teeth.
He didn’t dare look back, painfully aware of the ridiculous hope and yearn filled in the eyes that threatened to meet his if he ever decided to glance at Shanks.
God, what a simple thing to say.
For so long, he had pretended those weren’t the exact words he’d coveted to hear. His teenage self would’ve turned around without any hesitation and reached out to hold his hand. That hand.
His right palm ached with how roughly he was digging his unkempt nails into it.
‘Drip- drip- drip-’
When had he started crying? Why was there a puddle on the floor? How had he not noticed the tears sliding down his cheeks so abundantly until now?
I love you … fuck, the words seemed to fit so perfectly in his mouth, he could barely imagine not saying it back. He felt them on the tip of his tongue, like they had been there his entire life even if he hadn’t said them for decades.
And yet, it felt… wrong. In another lifetime it would have been so easy.
But not in this one.
Buggy felt the warm sting of blood seeping from his palm as he clenched the doorknob with his other hand again, and he swallowed the painful lump in his throat in a worthless attempt to make his voice appear even slightly steady. A feat proving to be predictably impossible, seeing as he accidentally let out a sob anyway.
“I loved you too.”
The door practically opened itself, and before he could linger in the palpable pity exuding from the redhead any longer, he was already halfway down the hallway.