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Crocodile wasn't used to feeling nervous. And yet, here he was in his office, smoothing his tie over and over as he waited for ____ to come in. He'd used his DenDen Mushi to call him, saying that the two of them needed to have a private meeting at the end of the day. His voice had been calm over the phone, but the moment he'd hung up he could feel his heart racing as he sat back in his chair.
Why am I so anxious? Crocodile sighed and poured himself a glass of bourbon. I've got ten years and a few feet over him, and he still manages to make me feel like a nervous fucking schoolboy. He took a sip of bourbon and thought of how long ____ had been at his side: fighting alongside him, carrying out his plans, even saving his life. ____ had rescued him after a storm had ravaged their ship, desperately holding onto Crocodile's limp body and pulling him onto a lifeboat. Crocodile had coughed up seawater and regained consciousness just as ____ had leaned down to give him mouth-to-mouth; there were a few nights after that where Crocodile would wish that he'd drowned for just a few seconds longer, just for the chance to taste ____'s lips without having to confess these...feelings that left him so vulnerable and exposed like a raw nerve.
Crocodile scowled and rested his hook on his desk. Well, you can't back out now, he told himself, glancing at the entrance to his office. Once he comes through that door, you can either make some excuse for having this meeting like a coward, or you can tell him the truth. He took another sip of bourbon for courage. I'm done feeling like a coward.
A gentle knock came from the door. "It's me," ____ said, his voice as soft as it always was. "May I come in?"
Crocodile's fingers clenched around his glass and he cleared his throat. "Yes," he replied, taking one more gulp before setting the glass down. The door slowly creaked open and ____ stepped inside. He was fiddling with one of the buttons on his vest, a small habit of his that he'd had for years. He shut the door to Crocodile's office and gave him a small smile.
"You wanted to meet with me, Crocodile?"
Crocodile nodded. "I...I wanted to tell you something," he replied, trying--and failing--to keep his voice from shaking at all. "Please, take a seat."
____ raised an eyebrow; hearing a tremor in Crocodile's voice was definitely a rarity. Whatever he wanted to say, it had to be something major. He complied and nervously sat down in the glossy mahogany chair in front of his boss's desk, and looked across at Crocodile with a concerned look on his face. What could be causing him to act so nervous? Whatever it was, ____ wanted to help.
Crocodile saw the way ____'s eyebrows furrowed and how his lips were slightly pursed. The way his (e/c) eyes searched his own left Crocodile almost speechless as he searched for the right words to say. "I…" He took a deep breath. "You've been a very faithful...companion to me," he started. "I've had many people at my side over the years, but most of them have expected something in return--money, connections, information. I've never been upset by it, it's just the way business works." He was quiet for a moment as he looked at ____. "But you've never done that. Never asked for any favors in exchange for everything you've done for me."
____ fiddled with the buttons on his vest and gave his companion a small smile. "I've never felt the need for it," he replied. His eyes were slightly downcast as he spoke. "I mean, it would just feel strange to treat our friendship like some sort of 'quid pro quo' thing, you know? I think that being at your side is rewarding enough for me." ____ looked back up at Crocodile, and noticed that his cheeks were a bit pink. "Um, Croc? Not to sound rude, but...how much bourbon have you had?" He pointed at his own cheeks. "You've got some, ah…'roses' right here."
Crocodile bit the inside of his cheek as he heard ____ use that nickname of his: Croc. So simple, yet so effective when it came to making Crocodile flustered. He ignored the burning sensation on his cheeks and waved his hook absentmindedly. "Just one glass," he replied, giving his companion a small smirk. "You of all people should know I'm not a lightweight."
____ chuckled; there were too many times to count where Croc had managed to easily drink him under the table, and had to carry him out of whatever upscale bar they were at over his shoulder. "Yeah, I do," he replied. "But...why are you blushing then?"
Croc was hesitant for a moment. "I want to show you how much I...I appreciate you," he said, not directly answering ____'s question. "I know you said you've never wanted a reward or anything for standing by me, but you deserve it. You deserve the world, ____, after all you've done for me." He slowly rose up out of his chair and walked over to the other side of his desk, and placed his hand on top of ____'s before kneeling down. ____'s eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise; Crocodile never bowed down to anyone like this, and yet...here he was, on one knee for him, of all people.
Crocodile caressed ____'s skin with his calloused thumb, and soon he wasn't the only one whose cheeks felt warm. He looked up at ____ with an incredibly soft gaze. "You deserve to know how I really feel," he said quietly. "I love you, ____. I have for a long time. Not just as nakama or as 'companions', but...more."
____ stared at Crocodile in stunned silence, and then beamed at him. He moved his hand underneath Crocodile's and gently squeezed it. "Oh...Croc," he murmured, eyes sparkling as a few happy, lovestruck tears welled up. "I love you too."