Chapter Text
“Ah…aha…”
“Is that good, Buggy?”
“Nngh”
“I’ll make it so good- oh sweetheart-”
The rhythmic creaking against the wall became louder, firmer, drowning out his captain’s husky voice and his sweetheart’s whimpers.
Benn was ready to throw himself overboard.
Ordinarily sharing a wall with his captain was advantageous; it made for quick summons and easy communication as needed. Some times, however, what was being communicated really didn’t need to be shared.
“Mmph!”
“That’s it, sweet thing, take it, take my cock-”
Benn shoved his face into his pillow and groaned. They had been at it for nearly the whole night. Still, all things considered and despite the lack of sleep, Benn had to admit that the situation was a remarkable improvement.
Shanks had suspected something was wrong when Buggy first failed to arrive at their scheduled rendezvous. Benn had huffed around his cigarette and waved off his captain's worry but Shanks knew better. He knew that Buggy The Clown was selfish and proud, and as such he never missed a chance to be seen in public with stakeholders in the world’s affairs (red-headed emperor of the sea included).
He also knew that Buggy treasured their little meet-ups just as much as he did. Buggy would hiss and spit and deny it, of course, but his actions spoke louder than his vicious words; he never missed a chance to crawl into Shanks’ embrace (and silken sheets).
In hindsight, Benn really should have trusted his captain’s instincts on this one.
Three days had passed since the initial missed date, and Shanks’ mood had grown increasingly cagey. Benn pretended not to hear his drunken calls on the den den through the wall; lord knew that he didn’t want to hear his captain, voice wavering with drunken sorrow, leaving unanswered message after unanswered message. Pretending to be none-the-wiser (and pretending not to notice the captain's worsening hangovers) was the least he could do.
It took all of Benn’s willpower not to outright cheer when Yassop spied Buggy’s solo schooner on the horizon through his scope.
“Benn Beckman happy to see Buggy the Fucking Clown?,” the sniper had smirked as Benn sent the cabin boy to summon Shanks, “these are desperate times indeed.”
Yassop had no idea how right he was.
Buggy’s entrances were usually heralded with showmanship. Flashy ensembles, bold makeup, clearly rehearsed quips. His presence was as over-the-top as his personality. This morning, however?
This morning was quiet. Dangerously so.
There were neither clever greetings nor scandalous outfits. There was only the clown’s co-captain, Iron Mace Alvida, pulling a terrifyingly silent Buggy aboard The Red Force. Half of the man’s face was covered by his hair, leaving only one eye exposed.
His gaze had remained rooted on the floorboards of the deck, refusing to rise even for Shanks.
That had been this morning, and Shanks had been quick to shepherd Buggy to the privacy of his cabin. Benn hadn’t heard from his captain since… except for the sounds of frantic passion, of course.
Said sounds of love making had finally ceased next door, replaced with a gentle cooing from Shanks. His voice was too low to decipher, but still loud enough to filter through. After a moment of proper silence, during which Benn finally felt himself beginning to drift off, a sudden rapping echoed against the wall.
I’m in hell, Benn reflected numbly.
With a heavy sigh he swung out of his bed and went to the entrance of his cabin. Shanks was already waiting in a barely closed robe when he cracked the door open.
“Captain.”
“I’m sleeping in tomorrow. The ship is yours until further notice and I’m not to be disturbed. Understood?”
Shanks’ tone was tight and tense. Benn knew better than to question the matter.
“Yes, captain.”
“Tell Roo to have the boy bring my breakfast in the morning. Buggy and I will take our meals in the cabin.”
“Yes, captain.”
“And…,” Shanks swallowed hard and closed his eyes. The hairs on the back of Benn’s neck stood on edge as a potent trickle of haki washed over him. Shanks grit out the next order as he regained control.
“Make sure Hongo has his medical bay prepared by noon. He needs to examine Buggy’s injury.”
Shanks turned on his heel before Benn could reply, making for his ajar cabin door. With a heavy exhale Benn made to retreat back into his own room.
“Benn…”
The first-mate paused, widening his cracked door once more.
Shanks still faced away, but he was now looking over his shoulder, eyes shut and mouth pinched in frustration.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Of course, captain.”