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It starts with a call in the night, the guttural croaking of the den den mushi stirring Shanks from fitful sleep. His stomach dropped when he glanced at the wall clock; nothing good ever came from a call this late.
The weariness in his gut was quickly eclipsed by butterflies when he recognized Buggy’s voice on the other end of the line. He could tell the clown was grinning from his tone of voice.
“Someone just offered me a flashy pile of berries to kill ya’, Red. What’s your counter offer?”
———
The first thing Buggy learned as a performer was how to read his audience. Who was gullible enough to believe the smoke and mirrors? Who would be easily distracted and entertained?
And most importantly, who made for an easy mark to hustle?
The merchant who walked into Buggy’s Delivery that morning seemed to check all of those boxes. His clothes screamed rich and ripe for over-charging, and his story reeked of the type of personal offense that Buggy loved to inflate (why of course a single ship full of Buggy’s flashy S-class mercenaries could settle this matter, but what about sending a real message with three ships? Never mind it being triple the price, after-all you can’t put a price on dignity can you?).
This was a man who would gladly pay someone else to do his dirty work, and hey, that’s what mercenaries were for, right?
“An absolute ruffian!,” the man wailed as he sat before Buggy and Alvida in their little office on Karai Bari. “His crew sacked my ships and left my men in shambles. Filth like that doesn’t have the decency to stay in its place like your lot here.”
“What d’ya-“
Alvida cut Buggy’s objection off with a jab of her elbow.
“Yes,” she purred, “pirate filth is best dealt with by outlaw filth. As they say: fight fire with fire.”
“Hear hear! Or rather, fight filth with filth!”
Alvida let out a peel of fake laughter while Buggy hid his scowl with a tip of his head towards the window. He tuned out the discussion for a moment, watching his men scramble about in the distance.
He could admit that more-than-a-few of his men were ex-convicts with unsavory histories (eclectic backgrounds, as Goldino preferred to describe it) but to walk onto his island and compare his men to filth?
Buggy could almost respect the audacity.
“And who are we settin’ ablaze, exactly?” Buggy asked, fully intent on overcharging by every berri possible. His men may be ‘filth,’ but they were flashy filth god dammit.
“Red-Haired Shanks.”
———
“Well, I appreciate the warning,” Shanks sighed, leaning back in his captain’s chair and watching Buggy pour himself more ale. The clown took a deep drink as he sauntered around Shanks’ private cabin on the Red Force.
“Though it would be more helpful,” he added dryly, “if you also gave me the man’s name.”
“Not so fast,” Buggy grinned, feigning interest in a shelf of books as he took his time replying, “I need to hear ya’ counter offer first, Red.”
Buggy had left Alvida in charge on Karai Bari and set sail almost immediately after their little late-night chat, during which Shanks shared the Red Force’s coordinates. Ben nearly strangled the red-head for giving their location up so easily, especially to a man who had literally just accepted a contract to kill him.
His first-mate had to begrudgingly apologize for not trusting his judgement after Buggy pulled alongside their ship alone and in a small schooner built for solo-sailing (the Tiny Top, he called it with a wink).
Now the clown was helping himself to Shanks’ good booze, strolling around his private cabin and smiling like the cat that got the cream.
He always did enjoy having the upper hand way too much, Shanks reflected with a twitch. It brought up memories of their early days on the Oro Jackson; Buggy flaunting around absolutely giddy whenever he had Shanks beat at whatever childish competition they were engaged in.
“My counter offer?”
“Obviously. This poor, innocent-”
“If we hit him then I promise you he was neither.”
“-family man-“
“He mentioned his family while negotiating my murder?”
“-who ya’ fuckin’ brutalized-“
“Robbed, at most.”
“-demands justice.”
“So he went to another pirate?”
“What’s the ol’ sayin’? Fight filth with filth?”
“I’ve never heard that saying before in my life.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake when did’ya get so fuckin’ impatient?,” Buggy pouted, dropping the dramatics long enough to leverage Shanks a stare over his shoulder.
The red-head ran his good hand down his face as he groaned.
“Since you strolled onto my ship wearing that,” Shanks groused in exasperation. Buggy preened in response, turning to face Shanks fully with a flourish. He made a point of canting his hips just so as he used his free hand to toss his long loose hair over his shoulder.
The clown wore long dark boots (just about the only sensible part of his outfit, Shanks had reflected dryly) that stretched to his knees. His pants were hardly that; tight shorts hung low from his hips and ended just under his ass, leaving his long creamy thighs on display. In true Buggy fashion the material was patterned with obnoxious stripes, although Shanks had to admit his eyes would have been drawn to his ass regardless of the pattern. The only other piece of clothing Buggy wore was an open vest that didn’t even extend far enough to cover his nipples. It was a rich black velvet with gold buttons and gold epaulettes (he was a captain after-all).
Everything else was exposed; alabaster skin, cut muscles, pert pink nipples, a dusting of blue hair across his chest that matched the coarse hairs peeking out of the top of his barely-pants.
Shanks had been hard and hungry since he welcomed him aboard.
“I drop everythin’,” Buggy bemoaned with a sly grin, “I don’t even pause to dress for sea-farin’ with how fast I run to your aid, and this attitude is all I get?”
“You were meeting clients in that get-up?”
Shanks leaned back in his seat, right hand gripping the velvet arm hard enough to tear as his eyes studied Buggy’s form in its full beauty.
“So what if I was?” He responded flippantly, helping himself to another swig of liquor. His make-up was as dramatic as his outfit, with dark smokey eyes and bright gold lipstick. Shanks wanted to lick it right off his smart mouth.
“Then I need to kill this man.”
Hell, Shanks had been ready to blast his own crew with Haki for the crime of looking at Buggy as he boarded the Red Force; his skimpy gear accentuating his physique as the sunlight glinted in his cerulean hair.
The idea of a stranger alone in a room with his Buggy dressed like this?
Unacceptable.
“I’m still waitin’” Buggy sing-songed.
“For what?”
“Counter. Offer.” he repeated with an emphasis that suggested Shanks was too stupid to understand the concept.
Shanks’ eyebrow twitched as his last nerve was tap-danced on. He didn’t have enough blood left in his skull for these games.
He exhaled hard through his nose. “Well, what did he give you?”
“15 million berri.”
“Fif-?! my bounty is four billion.”
Buggy’s smirk faltered for a moment as a look of genuine amusement briefly shone through, “maybe ya’ ain’t that special after-all, Red.”
Shanks stood so suddenly that his chair clattered backward.
Tempting his Buggy to turn against him was bad enough. Getting to ogle his Buggy on display was worse. But low balling his fucking worth?
Yea, Shanks definitely needed to kill this man.
Buggy froze in the middle of the room at Shanks’ sudden movement. He let the now empty tankard fall to the floor as his eyes flickered from Shanks’ face, to the bulge in his pants, to the four poster bed in the far corner of the room. A moment of tension passed between the two as Buggy’s pretty pink tongue peaked out and licked his lips.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he crooned, “ya’ don’t know what a ‘counter offer’ is, do’ya?”
“Come here-“
Buggy danced out of Shanks’ reaching grasp as the other man lunged for him. He cackled as he practically skipped to the bed.
“It’s when ya’ offer me somethin’ that’s worth more then- oof”
Shanks tackled the clown to his bed, pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss as disembodied hands yanked at his red hair and tugged at his collar.
“I’m going to fuck that smart mouth of yours” he snarled as he broke the kiss.
Buggy laughed against Shanks’ lips, shimmying his body up the bed and dragging the other man with him. “Is that your offer? Ya’ need to do better than that.”
Shanks growled, breaking free from Buggy’s grasp to sit up between his legs. He grabbed the low-cut collar of his loose fitting shirt and yanked, ripping the fabric open single-handedly and shucking it off his shoulders.
Buggy swallowed hard beneath him, watching Shanks’ thick muscles roil under tan skin as he tugged at the cord on his pants next. For a brief moment Buggy worried that he may have pushed Shanks a little too far; the man’s eyes were black and blown with lust as his hard cock sprung free. It bobbed, marvelously thick and heavy, as Shanks yanked his pants off.
Buggy’s mouth went dry.
Clearly he hadn’t pushed far enough if that magnificent prick wasn’t inside of him yet.
He sat up on his elbows, detaching his arms at the shoulders and his legs at the knees to allow his boots and vest to slide off his body. He came back together just as Shanks crashed back down on top of him, flushed and gloriously naked.
Shanks ducked back in, catching Buggy’s lips in another searing kiss. “How’s this for a counter offer?,” he asked as he ground his fat cock against Buggy’s own throbbing erection, still tortuously trapped in his shorts. “How about I lick you open and fuck you nice and hard?”
Buggy writhed against him as he laughed breathlessly. “Only- hah- only if ya’ like the taste of grease.”
Shanks pulled back with a look of genuine bewilderment until it clicked.
Oh.
Oh.
Buggy had approximately two seconds to feel smug before Shanks grabbed his hip with his good hand and flipped him onto his belly with a single powerful tug.
“Hey!“
Buggy’s squawk of indignation was cut off as his face was suddenly pressed into the luscious pillows at the head of Shanks’ bed.
“You fucking tease,” Shanks growled as he covered Buggy’s body with his own, pressing him firmly down into the pillows and bedsheets. He nuzzled the back of Buggy’s neck, using his nose to burrow through thick blue hair as his hand slid down the curve of Buggy’s back to rest on the swell of his ass. He squeezed the flesh hard enough for the bite of his fingernails to sting through the shorts before shifting his hand to slide under the fabric.
With a single forefinger Shanks dipped between Buggy’s ass cheeks, discovering the warm slick grease that covered his hole. With a firm nudge the tip of his finger caught on the tight ring of muscle, causing even more gooey wetness to seep out from within.
Buggy giggled into the pillows beneath him. “Like I said,” he gasped, quivering when Shanks pushed his finger further inside of him, “I rushed straight out of that meeting, didn’t stop to- haa”
Shanks bit down on the back of Buggy’s neck hard enough to draw blood, breathing hard through his nose as he withdrew his hand. In a single fluid motion he grabbed the hem of Buggy’s shorts and ripped the back clean open.
Okay, Buggy reflected, now he may have gone a touch too far.
Shanks shifted, letting the left half of his body slide off of Buggy and propping himself up on the stump of his left arm; he settled on his left side, pressed tight to Buggy’s prone body. As an afterthought he extended a leg over the back of Buggy’s knees, keeping the clown pinned face down in his sheets.
“Hey! Did’ya just tear-”
SLAP.
Shanks’ right hand landed a stinging slap across Buggy’s ass. His palm struck with an upward swing right where the cleft of his cheeks joined with the tops of his thighs, sending sharp licks of painful pleasure up his body.
“You let a stranger stroll into your office and slander my name-”
SLAP.
“Sh-Shanks-”
“-while you were wearing next to nothing-”
SLAP.
“-asshole warm and wet-”
“Mmph,” Buggy bit down on a pillow as Shanks’ cruel punishment set his blood ablaze.
SLAP.
Shanks was panting into the back of Buggy’s neck as he spanked him with harder and harder blows. Buggy flailed beneath him, pretty pale skin flushing darker and darker with every sharp slap delivered. Shanks paused after several more spanks and pulled back, letting his hand rest on the curve of Buggy’s abused ass. With a shuddering breath he grabbed one reddened cheek and squeezed.
“Shanks-” Buggy wailed, “I-”
“Is this how you sweeten your little business deals?” he whispered darkly in Buggy’s trembling ear as he squeezed the tender flesh harder, ‘is this how you entice your clients? Throw yourself on the table for a few extra berri-”
“I’m worth more than a few,” Buggy interrupted with a sneer, suddenly bucking back into Shanks’ hand in defiance.
SLAP.
SLAP.
SLAP.
With a final devastating blow Shanks shot his hand back up to grab Buggy by the root of his hair. He pulled the bluenette’s face out of the pillows and into another indulgent kiss. The angle caused his neck to ache and made it impossible to lick into Buggy’s mouth, but the kiss was wet and feral and perfect regardless.
When Shanks finally pulled back he noticed the tears flowing down Buggy’s face; his composure was shattered, with his pretty make up all smeared and his hair a tangled mess. All because of Shanks. A surprisingly tender heat blossomed in his chest as his jealousy dissipated.
“Yes… yes you are,” Shanks agreed as he pressed a gentle kiss to Buggy's temple, “you’re worth everything.”
Buggy hiccuped as he pressed his face back into the pillows. He tentatively canted his hips up in the cool air, coaxing Shanks to run his hand down the length of his back and gently rub at the sore skin of his ass. Buggy keened beneath him at the contact but didn’t pull away.
“So how is this for a counter offer,” he murmured into Buggy’s ear as he slid a hand between his cheeks once more and slipped a single finger past that tight ring of muscle. Buggy’s insides were slick and molten hot, causing Shanks’ mind to white-out; for a delirious moment he nearly mounted Buggy right there and then. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down he resumed their little game, “how about I give you everything.”
He punctuated the last word by adding a second finger beside the first. Slowly, hungrily, he worked Buggy open on his fingers while sucking dark bruises into his neck and shoulders, awaiting his answer.
By the time Shanks was working in a third finger Buggy had begun to rock back to meet the firm thrusts of his hand. After a moment he pushed himself up and craned back to kiss Shanks with a shuddering sigh, practically purring into his mouth. The kiss was surprisingly soft despite the vicious spanking he had just received.
“Deal,” he murmured as he bumped their noses together.
With a grin Shanks pulled his fingers out of the other’s body and twisted away to rifle through his nightstand. He nearly fell off the edge of the mattress in his desperation to acquire the bottle of oil; he pointedly chose to ignore Buggy’s giggles in response.
Prize in-hand, Shanks sat up on his knees behind Buggy. The clown was a vision as he lazily rose to his hands and knees, stretching like an overgrown kitten and twisting his hips up towards Shanks; his tight round ass spanked deliciously pink and hovering inches away from the dripping head of Shanks’ cock. His creamy skin and long blue hair, tussled and fanning every which way, were a bright contrast to the deep burgundy sheets on which he lolled.
Mine, Shanks thought as he grasped the bottle’s cork with his teeth, yanking it free with a twist of his neck before spitting it across the room. With a shuddering breath he poured ample oil down the length of his straining cock. Letting the bottle fall to the sheets, he grasped his slick prick and gave it several long, leisurely tugs.
“Hurry up,” Buggy grumbled beneath him, “do’ya want me chargin’ interest?”
Shanks let out a shaky laugh, shuffling forward on his knees until the purpling head of his cock rested against the crease of Buggy’s ass. “Maybe,” he grinned.
All other snark died on Buggy’s tongue the moment he felt that searing rod rest against his flesh, velvety and thick.
He was done waiting.
He let his front drop into the pillows in favor of detaching his hands; if Shanks was surprised he kept it to himself, watching in amused silence as the hands grabbed onto either one of Buggy’s own ass cheeks and spread himself open.
“Shaaankss,” he pleaded into the pillows, face burning from embarrassment and the sting of his raw skin under his own jostling hands. He slowly arched his back, pressing his face further down as he presented himself, wanton and stretched loose for the other man.
Without another word Shanks wrapped his hand around the base of his aching cock and pressed it between Buggy’s spread cheeks. After a moment of resistance he felt himself push past the tight ring of muscle and into Buggy’s pliant body. With a cant of hips he began a delicious slide inward until his balls were pressed tight to Buggy’s ass.
Buggy moaned into the pillows, pressing his hips back to hasten Shank’s penetration of his body as his hands returned. His insides burned delightfully with the same painful pleasure that vibrated through his body with each spank. Shanks, the composed bastard that he was, held perfectly still, petting up and down Buggy’s tense back as Buggy grunted and flexed beneath him.
“Easy,” Shanks crooned, sliding his hand up to grab onto Buggy’s shoulder, “here. Here.”
With a slow roll of his hips Shanks pulled back, cock nearly slipping free of Buggy's body. With a sharp snap he surged forward once more, bottoming out as he fully sheathed himself with enough force to shove Buggy up the bed. Shanks wasted no time setting a brutal pace, hips roiling in quick thrusts. Beneath him Buggy screamed and writhed, bucking up to meet every incline of Shank’s hips.
These games were still new to them both. Years of one-sided hatred (on Buggy’s part) and one-sided cowardice (on Shanks’) had kept them worlds apart. Then Marineford shattered that distance with ice and blood and second chances.
A 20-year silence turned into an exchange of letters every few months (intel to make up for the map, Shanks insisted), which turned into a call on the den den every single month (reminders to stay clear of my growing influence, Buggy proclaimed), which turned into visits every few weeks (keeping up appearances as warlords, Shanks shrugged), which turned into fucking like unhinged rabbits (because I fucking want you, you shitty red-headed fuck now come here- Buggy had groaned into Shanks’ mouth).
They learned how to push each other's buttons as effectively between the sheets as they did top-side; Buggy, for all his bark and bluster, melted with a good spanking (the crueler the better, Shanks had been delighted to learn). In turn, nothing made Shanks greedier for Buggy’s lithe body than the primal threat of another man taking what was his.
In his defense, he was a pirate.
Even now, with the other man speared on his prick and oozing precum into his sheets, Shanks couldn’t help but feel a pang of fury over someone else tempting his Buggy into betraying him. He rocked his hips harder at the feeling, pistoning in and out with such force that oil and grease frothed up where their bodies joined and dribbled down his balls. It was filthy and sticky and perfect.
“Deeper,” Buggy begged with a weepy gasp, barely audible over the wet slaps of his hips clapping back against Shanks’ thighs.
With a mischievous grin Shanks pushed deep into Buggy’s body and paused, ignoring the other’s hissing complaints. He tightened his grip on Buggy’s shoulder and pulled him backward, piercing him impossibly further onto his cock. Buggy whimpered beneath him, toes curling and muscles spasming as Shanks began to grind in small tight circles against his ass, hitting spots within him that lit up his body with pleasure.
“15 million berries,” Shanks huffed, “how does this compare?”
In a fluid movement he slid his hand from Buggy's shoulder to wrap around his throat as he let himself fall forward, his chest pressing into Buggy’s back and crushing the other man prone onto the bed. All of the air left Buggy's body in a surprised gasp as Shanks began rutting hard once more.
Every thrust was a punch into his guts, sending waves of liquid ecstasy up his spine. The pleasure was only amplified by the stinging aches of his body; the skin spanked raw, the throbbing bite on his neck, the bruises on his shoulder from Shanks’ grip.
“More,” Buggy demanded, “make me-”
Shanks carefully squeezed Buggy’s throat in his hand, just hard enough to spark an instinctual panic, the very beginnings of fight or flight. The feeling shivered down Buggy’s spine as Shanks pounded him into the bed. His own neglected cock was trapped between his belly and the soft sheets, now damp and slick with precum; with every grinding flex of Shanks’ hips his own were forced down and rewarded with delicious friction. He was close. He was frustratingly close. Achingly close.
With a shallow breath he clenched down hard on the bruising prick inside of him; the harder he tensed, the rougher the drag of Shanks' cock became within him. The pressure reached a boiling point in his belly as Shanks wheezed into his neck. His hips stuttered as Buggy used his own velvety insides to wring his cock. With a snarl he squeezed the bluenette’s throat harder and resumed his savage pace.
Buggy’s world began to collapse in on itself as his mind went into sensory overload. Everything melded together into a single beat of pleasure set to the tempo of Shanks’ rutting; the dizzying thrill of Shank's powerful hand on his throat, the friction of the sheets against his cock, the sounds of creaking as the bed struggled to absorb the force of their fucking, the burning punch of the hot prick inside him, hitting deep over and over and over.
“Come on, Love Bug,” Shanks drawled low in his ear, “collect what I owe you.”
Suddenly Shanks’ hot wet tongue was in his ear, licking and biting and tipping his overstimulated mind over the edge.
With a breathy wail Buggy came into the sheets beneath him, hips bucking back hard enough to nearly throw Shanks off of him as he soaked the sheets with pearly streaks of liquid. With a swell of pride Shanks’ released Buggy’s throat and buried his face in his neck, fucking Buggy through the trembling aftershocks of his orgasm.
“Oh baby,” Shanks choked, shifting his hand up to grab a fistful of Buggy’s hair and drilling into him as hard as he could manage. With a final thrust he came, spilling deep and grinding his hips as firmly as he could against Buggy’s body as he whispered into his skin. “Take it, take it all-”
Take me.
———
“I told him you’re at Bark island.”
“Who?”
“The dumb fuck who thought he could get ya’ killed for a measly 15 mill,” Buggy huffed against Shanks’ bare chest, “I made him pay upfront and told him you’re at Bark island.”
After catching his breath (and peppering Buggy’s neck and shoulders with as many kisses as the clown’s fickle temper would allow) Shanks had precisely enough energy to kick the soiled top sheet off of his bed before dragging Buggy down into the pillows with him. The clown grumbled and resisted at first, but eventually relaxed in Shanks’ embrace with his face resting on his pecs. His warm breath tickled Shanks' nipple as he spoke up once more.
“I said I’de send two ships of S-class men, my flashiest I will have ya’ know-”
“I’m honored.”
“-and I told him he should be there to enjoy the show. He’ll be there in three days.”
Shanks idly skimmed his fingers across the cool skin of Buggy’ back as he considered the intel. He buried his nose in the crown of blue hair resting on his chest as he hummed thoughtfully, breathing deep. Buggy smelt of sex and the sea.
“...and will those S-class ships of yours be there as well?
He felt Buggy grin into his chest as he puffed with pride in his arm, “hmmph, ya’ should be so worried. The great Captain Buggy does control the most fearsome fleet in all the seas!”
“Mmhmm. Will your ships be there or not, Love Bug- oof”
Buggy planted a hand on Shanks’ chest and used it to firmly push himself up, promptly knocking the wind out of him. The sun had long since set outside, leaving the cabin illuminated by the low light of the oil lamps beside the bed; the lamps bathed Buggy’s pale skin in a warm glow that brought out the red in his nose as he glared down at the red-head. Shanks, however, was too mesmerized by his sex-messy hair and kiss-swollen lips to be intimidated.
“You’re no fuckin’ fun,” Buggy finally grumbled, breaking the silence and pointedly looking away, “obviously I have flashier fish to fry than the likes of your crew. Enjoy the privilege of killin’ the idiot who insulted me with such a low bid… or don’t, whatever. I don't care what ya’ do,” he huffed, continuing his sudden interest in everything except Shanks’ face.
A heavy hand clapped down on Buggy’s ass cheek, forcing an indecent squeak out of him as he collapsed back down onto Shanks' chest. Shanks grinned as Buggy squirmed in his grasp.
“Glad my counter offer was adequate.”