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Dracule rubbed his brow with a sigh; while crashing on Shanks hammock hadn’t sounded like a particularly good idea it had been a necessary one. Strictly top and tail of course.
The first stars of the night were twinkling above them now and the rest of the crew had retired deep into the cave to sleep off their own hangover.
"That was more than a drink..." he muttered, glaring at the younger man he could barely see in the dim light of a lantern
"You don’t say?" he teased.
"You rub off on me something stupid, I should have learned not to listen to you by now."
Shanks chuckled, reaching out to grab his thigh "Wanna know what else I can rub off?"
"Weak, and crass. I already told you I'm not here for that anyway."
The other man rolled his eyes, he was not so easily deterred, he shifted his hand to pinch Mihawk inner thigh until he couldn’t suppress a grimace of pain.
"And I already told you I can take you with one arm tied behind my back."
Dracule swatted the hand away like one would a mosquito "You only have one." The drawl of his voice a flimsy shield to try and divert the onslaught he was helpless to resist.
He didn’t want to give into Shanks games, he loved and hated them, he loved playing them but he hated being the only one burned by them… as far as he could tell.
"Oh so you can count, I was starting to think the Government had slashed your bounty because they weren't sure you'd know how much it was." Shanks smirk only grew.
Case in point.
He paused, letting his reticence dissolve, a slow breath barely moving his chest, his muscles primed and ready even as he sneered "Are you considering a change of career? I heard the Baratie is looking for a stand up act." The sentence ended in a growl, a split second before swinging them both off the hammock, leveraging the momentum to end up on top and twist Shanks arm behind his back "Is this what you were thinking of?"
"You fucker, that's not fair!"
"When have we ever played fair?!"
He pushed Shanks face harder into the cold sand and ground his hips into his ass, eliciting a groan he could feel rumble through the man’s chest under his fingers.
“One hand behind your back, no?”
The way Shanks braced his feet and knees in the sand and pushed off just enough to turn his face sent a shiver down Dracule's spine, a spark of recognition, a moment of tension.
"Off."
His mind felt dunk in jelly.
Dracule could barely remember how he'd ended up on his back, the red haired pirate sitting astride his chest and holding him down by the neck "Warlords are no gentlemen, mh?"
"Never pretended to be." he breathed out, tilting his chin to feel his hand more, swallowing under the fingers to see Shanks keep his eyes trained on it.
His own hands were sneaking up Shanks' thighs, palming the rough material of his slops all the way to the belt, pulling at the buckle to get it free "After all, you didn’t seem to need courtship—" he teased, a short strangled noise leaving his lips when Shanks tightened the hold on his throat before letting go all at once.
“I’m not the one playing coy, my arm is still free… You should do better” he smirked, grabbing Mihawk’s chin between thumb and forefinger.
Dracule glared, taking on the challenge without hesitation now, he pulled the belt out of it’s loops in a fluid motion, a hard crack sounding off the air as it unfolded outward.
A flick of the wrist and he grabbed the free end on the other side, wrapped it around his palm and used it to pull Shanks’ face to his own, their mouths biting and kissing at each other while he made a loop around his throat deftly.
Shanks tilted his head to bite hard at his neck for his troubles, it ripped a groan out of him but it wasn’t enough to make him let go of the belt before it was secured.
That’s when Shanks jumped back but Dracule was ready to follow up, grabbing for his arm at the wrist and elbow and twisting until the other man was forced to turn around.
"You should drink less, Shanks, you're getting slow." he growled right in his ear before pulling up his wrist right up to the makeshift collar and tying it up.
Grabbing him by a shoulder and hip he threw him bodily on his back again, grinning as he enjoyed the defiance in his eyes even while his thighs spread open "You should come around more often then, make sure I stay in shape."
He rolled his eyes "I'm not your mother."
"No, but I could call you daddy."
"I should really gag you." Kneeling between his thighs he reached over to cuff his mouth with the back of his hand.
The way his whole face changed, a fierce glare and a hint of anger in his eyes froze Dracule in place "You wouldn't dare." A snarl.
Dracule was determined to hold his ground, setting his jaw he leaned forward, one hand in the sand bracing him inches from Shanks’ face, the other grasping a tuft of red hair "Wouldn't I?” he punctuated by pulling on the hair firmly “Maybe you're right, I wouldn't get to hear all those little noises you make when I cut you up, it would be a shame."
Yet just as he finished speaking Shanks pushed his feet off the sand and wrapped his legs around Mihawk’s knees.
His balance was disrupted enough that they rolled once again and Shanks could go for his mouth again, kissing and sucking on his lower lip, a hint of teeth as they abandoned themselves to the sensation.
He’d missed this.
He’d missed the burning warmth, he’d missed the taste, he’d missed the fear and the pain.
Shanks pulled away, leaving barely enough air to speak between them.
"You keep underestimating me, Dracule. It'll kill you one day."
The weight of the threat hung between them, pushed by the will of the red haired pirate just far enough to caress his conscience.
Dracule shuddered and moved to reprise the kiss, now biting at the pirate’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood and taste it before pulling on his hair roughly and expose what was visible of his neck above the belt. He kissed, bit and licked, drawing his teeth along the veins to feel Shanks' heart rate quicken right under his lips.
As the other gave into the pleasure, Mihawk caught the chance to move his hand to the belt buckle and tug firmly, stopping the airflow for just a moment longer than comfortable "You're awfully cocky for someone with a belt around their neck" he muttered, letting Shanks breathe again and pushing off the sand to roll them again, feeling the water lap at their clothes now.
He got up and grabbed the other pirate like one would a satchel and threw him back further on the sand, now towering over him as Shanks stared back, his chin bloody and his shirt torn "Show me what you've got, then." He goaded.
Dracule drew the dagger from its necklace sheath and knelt astride Shanks’ chest, one hand grabbing his hair again and pushing him into the sand further.
"It's a shame your pretty eye scar is fading away, don't you think?"
"You’re right… Gives an air of mistery, doesn't it?"
Mihawk smirked and drew the blade across the first scar without hesitation, keeping away from the eye itself; crimson droplets surfaced quickly as Shanks drew a sharp breath but didn’t react otherwise.
By the time he was scoring the second one the blood was making its way through his hair and on the sand.
The third one merely added fuel to the fire.
They were both breathing quickly and Dracule bent down to lick a long strip from his cheek to his forehead before kissing him hard.
"That was nothing, blade's still sharp."
"Wouldn't want to leave you too weak."
A firm knee in the groin had tears in Mihawk’s eyes and he responded with an open hand slap across Shanks' mouth "Keep asking for it then."
He moved down enough that he could tear the linen shirt and reveal his chest darkned by the sun and scored by the abuse of a life at sea.
He pressed Shanks’ shoulder into the ground and moved the dagger to the top of his clavicle, tearing the skin right across the bone and getting a pained groan out of him "Fuck! That hurts! Do the other side!"
"Psycho."
They both were, really. One had to be in this line of work, or was that the lie they all told each other?
Yet nothing stopped him from tearing the shirt further and repeating the motion, going slower and slightly deeper as Shanks’ body tensed and he cried out a garbled curse.
He shifted further down, now completely destroying the shirt all the way to his navel as he sat on the hard bulge in his pants and ground down. The blade resting lightly just above his liver.
"What will it be? Ready to give up?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I haven't heard you scream yet."
He moved the blade away and ran firmly his fingers on the naked skin, silently counting the spaces until he settled on the rib just below his nipple and the dagger carved a thick wound, it tore a gasp out of the pirate's lips but Dracule had heard that already, he grinned then and dug two fingers in, pressing on the bone beneath as Shanks screamed at last.
That’s when he ground his hips again, turning the very end of that scream into a moan.
"You crazy son of a bitch..." Shanks was holding onto his composure but there was just the slightest wobble to his voice, a breathy echo even as he refused to close his eyes or look away from his tormentor.
Mihawk pulled his fingers out and dragged the fresh blood along his treasure trail, casually picking up a bunch of fabric from the destroyed shirt and pressing it on the wound.
Another groan, he could feel the muscles tensing beneath him, he pressed harder, the blood soaking the rag at an alarming rate for anyone else. Shanks shuddered and then he just went slack, embracing the pain, tasting the blood on his lips and rolling his hips up into Mihawk's.
"Too many clothes still, Hawkeye..."
The older man shifted further down and licked the blood off the dagger before deftly running the blade just under the slops’ buttons, cutting them all off in one motion.
"Nick anything down there and I'll make you swallow that fruit knife you carry around." Shanks warned but still he was readily shimmying enough to free his cock.
Dracule sighed, a teasing smile pulling at one side of his mouth as he sheathed the dagger “You wound me if you think I’d be so careless while the night is still young” he shifted to his feet and grabbed the younger man by the collar, his movement rough but controlled, one foot pinning his pants to the ground until he was naked before he threw him closer to the hammock, a grunt and a thump accompanying the landing “What was that for?!”
“I need to get the grease you so subtly left by the hammock, unless you want to take me dry, that is.”
“You fucker, I meant why throw me!”
“Oh that was just because I could.” He smirked, grabbing the jar and throwing it beside the man lying on his back before making quick work of his own sand colored pants and leaving them on the hammock.
When he knelt between Shanks’ thighs again his erection had flagged down slightly, his balls drawn tight against his body, he ran his fingers over both clavicles at once, fresh blood surfacing on the skin “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”
“Not if you leave me out cold, get a move on-“ his words were cut by a hiss as Dracule dragged his nails on the wounds instead.
“Lift your hips, I want to give you something else to remember me by.”
Shanks met his gaze for a moment but then shifted and rested his hips on his thighs, offering himself up completely.
The dagger came out again and Mihawk scored the skin right on the iliac crest, a short graze, barely longer than an inch “It’s for a better grip, you see, it adds texture.” He murmured, reaching over and proving his point by pressing his thumbs just over the cuts as he grasped Shanks by the hips, pulling him closer as the pirate muttered a curse under his breath.
“I didn’t catch that!”
“I said… you are a sorry excuse of a… ah—”
Shanks voice caught in a moan as Mihawk grabbed his cock firmly and stroked from base to tip.
“No, can’t hear you properly. Must be the waves too loud.” He smirked, pumping his cock a few times again and then trailing down his balls and to his hole, just teasing, the barest hint of pressure to keep him on his toes.
Shanks sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, caught in the sensations playing about his body, Dracule grabbed the chance to admire him openly, running the tip of his fingers upward from his hip across his abs, shimmering with sweat and blood in the moonlight, watching the muscle ripple lightly as the man let out a quiet huff of laughter, a smile stretching his lips with his eyes still closed.
Letting the moment hang between them a little longer Dracule retrieved the grease jar silently, scooping out a good dollop before pressing against the hole without much ceremony. Not like Shanks ever needed a great deal anyway.
The red haired pirate groaned but didn't hesitate to push himself on the finger, to which Mihawk responded by fucking him thoroughly and adding a second finger without any more grease "Slut."
"You're taking ages, Hawk Eyes."
"Let me fix that."
He pulled out his fingers, watching with a certain satisfaction the way Shanks’ hole twitched and coating his cock with a few slow strokes, stretching his partner’s patience as far as it would go.
At last he grabbed the man by the hips and simply pushed inside in one fluid motion, enjoying the way Shanks body tensed and then relaxed once he was fully seated, fresh blood seeping out of the wounds and dripping on the sand as the pirate gritted his teeth. Still, he boasted with a cheeky grin.
"Told you, one hand tied behind my back."
Mihawk laughed then and he could feel himself let go. He moaned and sighed softly as the red-haired pirate started working his cock just right and fucking himself.
They locked eyes and Dracule could feel the push of Shanks’ haki on his mind, the sheer power and control as they pleasured each other but it was really Shanks’ game, it had been all along. He didn’t mind one bit.
They finished seconds from each other, semen and blood mixing on Shanks abs as Mihawk slipped out and rolled away just enough to untie the crazy man beside him and carefully pull his arm straight.
Shanks groaned, barely helping out in the movement until he could shake his hand and he sighed rubbing at his neck “If you want me to return the favour you’ll have to stick around a couple days, I’m afraid.” He said, his tone light but clearly bone-tired.
Mihawk stretched, propping himself up on one elbow, the other hand resting casually on the other man’s thigh “No time for that, I’ll be leaving tomorrow night.”
Shanks pouted jokingly “What, worried the castle might miss you?”
“My business isn’t contained between your ass and my castle, you know?”
“Mhmh, tell yourself that.”
Dracule reached over and pinched the very end of the clavicle cut “You’re a terrible nuisance. Come on, clothes on before a crab tries to claim you for their shell.”
“Gross.”
Mihawk got to his feet and pulled Shanks by the hand, letting him hop in the hammock first, he adjusted the lantern to wash the man in brighter light and soaked a rag with the rhum they had been drinking to wipe the blood off his face, scrubbing firmly to clean the wounds.
“That stings!”
“Child. Let me clean the other ones too.”
With that he took the time to wipe him every cut with a clean rag carefully, he couldn’t help but take notice of how blood still surfaced at his rib “I’ll stitch you up before I leave.” He muttered, retrieving his own coat and cutting a long strip from the train.
Shanks was following his movements and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest when Dracule wrapped the fabric around his middle “We have a doctor, you know?”
“I clean up my own messes.”
“That’s just an excuse to torture me a little longer.” He grinned, nodding at the bandage “You outdid yourself.”
“What can I say? That kid inspired me.” He shrugged, throwing away the dirty rags and laying his coat back on the barrel by the hammock.
“Which kid? Luffy?”
“His friend, get to sleep now.”
“Not if I get your stinky feet in my face again, I won’t”
Dracule rolled his eyes but shuttered the lantern and climbed in to lie beside Shanks, their foreheads touching under the dim light of the moon “Happy?”
“Delighted… Who’s this friend then?”
“Roronoa Zoro, a child mind you, but good enough that I let him live to kill him another day.” He murmured, wrapping an arm around Shanks’ waist as they got comfortable.
“If he’s friends with Luffy you better expect the unexpected.”