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Smoker was late. He didn’t expect anything less; initially he’d just taken a wrong turn, or two - or three. It had set him behind schedule, but it was still salvageable. What Smoker didn’t account for was running into a dead-end, worse, a dead-end occupied by a rather pleased Sir Crocodile.
He’d arrived, just breaching over an hour late, and took his seat around the table. Smoker made a minimal attempt to straighten out his disheveled appearance before giving up with a grunt to instead place two of his signature cigars between his teeth. The other Vice-Admirals stared, perhaps waiting for an explanation for Smoker’s tardiness - or at the very least an excuse, but when a dismissive grumble of ‘ran into some trouble’ was all they received, their attention returned to the conversation they had on hold.
Mindlessly, Smoker began to sift through some of the paperwork laid out in front of him, his eyes scanned over the words yet they didn’t sink in. It was then, Smoker concluded, that he was tired. The Marine placed his papers down, mind beginning to wander as he chewed the ends of his unlit cigars. He’d stopped listening.
It wasn’t far from uncharacteristic of Smoker to behave this way, but the thoughts that played on his mind were. It was only natural, Smoker tried to reassure himself. To think of how soft Crocodile’s lips were against his own, or the firmness behind each kiss. The way Crocodile left a lingering scent of a much more expensive brand of tobacco, laced with a warm aftershave. He smelled nice, familiar.
Smoker could feel heat pooling in his stomach, threatening to rise up his neck and spread across his cheeks. So with a slight hesitation he willed those thoughts away, cleared his throat, lit his cigars and gave a half-assed attempt to focus on the meeting.
Another two hours dragged on and the meeting finally came to a close, the Marines parted with their formal ‘goodbyes’ and retired to their rooms for the night. Smoker had gathered some of the papers from the briefing to mull over tomorrow with a clearer head before setting off to his room as well.
The hallways were quiet, with their lights dimmed in the late hours of the night; that ever-so-slightly surreal feeling settling in the air, a sensation only experienced in a bustling area after it had stilled for the day. The silence was rhythmically broken by the heavy footsteps of Smoker’s boots hitting the polished wooden floor and the slight rustling of papers in hand.
Turning the handle, Smoker shouldered his way into the room set aside for his stay with a deep sigh. It was larger than he’d expected, expensive dark-wood striking against the plain, cream walls that were accompanied by the deep navy blues of the thick curtains and bed throws. He unceremoniously kicked off his boots at the door and placed the hefty pile of papers on the nearby desk, draping his coat across the back of the chair.
Smoker hesitated, eyeing the reports that he had to, at the very least, skim over before he’d need to depart once again. Another sigh. Smoker turned and walked to the large bay windows that stretched across the length of the far wall. It offered a generous view of the town below, blanketed in darkness save for the roads dotted with street-lamps that grew more sparse the further they were from the Main Street.
Smoker’s eyes traced the winding backroads, much too dark to see anything - or anyone - for that matter. Tiredly, his eyes drifted to follow the Main Street, empty aside from one or two stray cats. The cobbled road led back to the docks that Smoker had arrived on; a handful of Marine vessels rested there, gently bobbing with the ebb-and-flow of the ocean. A soft, orange glow enveloped the boats, casting shadows that danced slowly along the ocean waves and wooden panelling of the docks. A couple of Marine shiphands were still busying about aboard the ships and the harbour, preparing for tomorrow.
Smoker pushed the windows open wide, closing his eyes as the cool night breeze drifted past his face and through the room, disturbing the papers on Smoker’s desk ever-so-slightly. On it travelled the sounds of trees rustling and distant conversation. With one last glance at those darkened pathways, Smoker moved away from the window to collapse on the large expanse of his bed and shrug his pants off, settling down for the night. He had plenty of reading to do tomorrow, afterall.
Sunlight spilled through the open curtains and painted Smoker’s face a soft gold. It was still early morning, the breeze had a nip to it, urging Smoker to roll out of bed and grab his jacket, shouldering it on with a yawn and eyes still half-asleep. He had a plan: grab coffee, maybe some breakfast, sit down and get through the damned briefing he missed.
That plan was a couple of hours ago. Smoker had managed to sift through most of it, attention only waning towards the end. His restlessness grew stronger after every finished page until it reached a point that Smoker could no longer ignore the constant, gnawing sensation to get up and move. The Marine had figured a short break would do him good, and since he was almost entirely caught up it certainly wouldn’t do no harm to stretch his legs and familiarise himself with this new town.
The walk from the Marine base to the town square was simple enough, only winding and branching out into multiple paths once or twice - Smoker felt fairly embarrassed that he’d even gotten lost to begin with. Now that he could take his time, Smoker noticed how bright and cheery this port-town was. Painted houses with an array of colours from faded whites to gentle blues and dusky pinks, flowers that framed their windows and decorations that were hung on walls and doors. Many bustling with life from inside. Cobbled pathways and a proud display of patterned bunting that danced softly in the breeze hung above those on the streets, only broken up by laundry left outside to dry. The odd tree stood tall alongside the buildings and offered a refuge for wildlife, namely birds that sang sweetly above the clatter.
From the centre of town, the wind carried the smell of baked goods and lively chatter among townsfolk. Smoker’s stomach growled, a grim reminder that he opted to skip out on breakfast and - judging from the time - lunch as well in favour for finishing up his task. He headed toward the smell; a small bakery manned by a friendly, wind-chafed man at the counter with a smile that pushed at his rosy cheeks and reached his eyes. Smoker ordered something simple so that he could walk around freely without making a mess and set off to continue his exploration.
As he walked, Smoker noted the landmarks the barkeep had mentioned the night before - albeit they were ones in the opposite direction of where he asked to get to. Finishing the last bite of his pastry, Smoker rounded a corner and came upon a small, empty courtyard with several identical paths splitting off in different directions. Figuring they’d lead anywhere and nowhere, Smoker lit his cigars and picked a path at random, setting off at a meandering pace, giving himself time to digest the sights around him, as well as his food.
It had been a good 40 minutes and Smoker hadn’t reached the end of what he thought would be a short alleyway. No, instead he was plagued with thoughts; ‘that tree looks familiar’ , ‘have I passed that postbox before?’ Smoker picked up his pace slightly, as though that would remedy his dilemma, stomping toward the exit with a frown plastered across his face. It wasn’t long before he emerged, scanning the area only to realise he’d stumbled back into the same, small courtyard he’d started in. Smoker narrowed his eyes, staring accusationally at each identical pathway, unable to discern which was the one he originally came through. His eye twitched, and with a sharp exhale Smoker picked another path and set off.
He ended up back in the courtyard.
Again.
And again.
Annoyed, Smoker dropped the butts of his cigars to the floor and ground his heels on them in excess. It was far from cathartic, Smoker found, more-so when he had to admit he was lost. Again. In the same town.
Great.
Smoker was about to set off on his fourth attempt on finding his way out, but he’d taken all of a single step when a familiar, slow laugh carried throughout the previously silent alleyways and grated against Smoker’s already frayed nerves.
“I’m beginning to suspect that you’re doing this on purpose, Marine.” A deep, familiar voice teased.
Smoker looked around, face sour, unable to find where Crocodile had apparently been hiding. Then the sudden, all-too familiar sensation of Crocodile’s curved hook against Smoker’s lower back made him visibly stiffen. Crocodile let out another laugh as he began to drag the metal slowly up Smoker’s spine, shifting slightly to lean over the Marine. His lips were almost pressed to Smoker’s ear as he continued to speak, deep voice hushed.
“You’re quite the sight when you’re vulnerable like this,” Hook still traveling up the expanse of Smoker’s back before coming to rest between his tensed shoulder blades. “You look like you need assistance. I’m not above helping a damsel-in-distress,” Crocodile teased, “If you ask, of course.”
“Are you following me?” Smoker questioned, voice edging on accusational. He’d purposely ignored Crocodile’s jabs, but he couldn’t stop his brow from twitching in annoyance.
“Not exactly.” Crocodile drawled, as if considering the truth behind his reply. Well, it was true that he wasn’t following Smoker around. But he had bore witness to the past 40-or-so minutes of Smoker walking around in circles, winding himself up more and more with each and every fruitless turn or dead-end.
“I just happened to stumble upon you, hopelessly lost yet again - and in broad daylight no less.” Crocodile clicked his tongue teasingly, leaning further over Smoker until his chin was rested on the man’s shoulder. He used his free hand to grip the Marine’s chin between his thumb and pointer, “how ever do you manage to navigate The Grand Line with such a poor sense of direction, hm?”
Smoker opened his mouth to retort, only to choke on his own words when Crocodile planted a kiss on the shell of his ear before tilting Smoker’s head to the side slightly, allowing himself room to nuzzle the lower half of his face into the buzzed sides of Smoker’s hair and inhale deeply. An intimate action for such an irritating person.
“Well?”
“ ‘m not lost.” Smoker grumbled, rolling his shoulders in a poor attempt to nudge the taller man off of him. It worked, if only slightly. Crocodile released Smoker’s chin and straightened his back, but made no attempt to move away, rather enjoying the warmth radiating from Smokers back as it pressed into his chest.
“Oh? Then, please, tell me which way is the exit and let's leave.”
Silence.
“You know, Marine,” Crocodile continued, voice low - almost threatening - as his hand firmly gripped Smoker’s shoulder, “honesty is a virtue.”
Smoker swallowed as he was spun around by the shoulder to face the other man, having to crane his neck just to get a glance at Crocodile’s face with his all-too devilish grin resting on his lips. He was looking down at Smoker over his nose with such an intolerable sense of smugness and pride at his own actions.
“Perhaps you need to be reprimanded,”
The shorter of the two men took a step back upon hearing those words, and Crocodile stepped forward. Again, Smoker stepped back only for Crocodile to close the distance between them. He hopelessly tried to keep some form of distance between them, fixing Crocodile with a ‘don’t you dare’ glare every time the smug-faced bastard moved forward.
Smoker didn’t get far. His back bumped into the stone wall behind him and Crocodile used the moment to his advantage, leaning forward to capture Smoker in a kiss.The hand on the Marine’s shoulder held him in place as Crocodile watched his eyes widen, then flutter closed. He hummed in satisfaction against Smoker’s lips, and in return Smoker’s hands came up to grip Crocodile’s coat.
Crocodile pulled back slightly, their noses brushing together. Deftly, he slid the cool metal of his hook under Smoker’s chin, tilting his face upright slightly to admire his reddened complexion - exhaling in amusement once he noticed how Smoker’s eyes were still tightly shut.
The former-Shichibukai placed another kiss on his lover’s lips, softly at first, followed by his tongue dragging across Smoker’s lower lip - asking for permission - which Smoker avidly denied, turning his head to the side and tilting it upright with furrowed brows and reddening cheeks. His gloved hand came up to lightly push at Crocodile’s face.
“Not here.”
That was fine by him. Crocodile could find other ways to ruin the man below him. Hungry eyes dragging over Smoker’s body, stopping to linger on the Marine’s newly exposed neck. A mischievous smile graced Crocodile’s lips, making Smoker eye him suspiciously and weakly push against the taller man's mouth when he showed no sign of moving.
Smoker felt Crocodile kiss his palm, almost apologetically if he didn’t know any better, didn’t see that sly glint in his eyes - feel that smug grin against the palm of his hand.
Crocodile ghosted his hand from Smoker’s shoulder, up his arm, then gripped his wrist loosely and guided Smoker’s hand away from his face. He began to lean in once more, a little lower this time, and Smoker could only swallow thickly as he eyed the man from the side. At some point, the Marine’s eyes must have closed in anticipation, waiting for a kiss that never came.
Instead, Crocodile had intertwined their fingers and firmly held Smoker’s hand in place on the stone wall, adjacent to his head. Teasingly, Crocodile exhaled a slow, hot puff of air close to Smoker’s neck and watched him shudder. Pleased, Crocodile licked his tongue up the length of his neck, stopping short of his jaw and planting a small, wet kiss behind his ear where Smoker could hear Crocodile laugh under his breath at his gasps and shudders.
Smoker pushed at Crocodile’s chest weakly with his free hand, breaths growing shaky as Crocodile began to leave a trail of kisses back down his neck, stopping to lick or nip at the flesh.
Crocodile paused, lips lingering close to his neck as he asked “want me to stop?”
When met with no answer, he forced the curve of his hook against the underside of Smoker’s chin, tone slightly more commanding; “answer me.”
There was a shaky exhale from Smoker, followed by a quiet ‘no’, the tips of his ears turning visibly red.
“Good boy,” Crocodile praised, hook teasing down the length of Smoker’s neck, past his chest and coming to press at his lower stomach. The cool sensation against Smoker’s exposed skin made him gasp loudly, body betraying him as he leaned into the touch and chewed his lower lip.
Smoker’s voice sounded strained when he spoke up; “quit teasing…” was all he could manage to gasp out, berating himself for sounding more like he was begging Crocodile than commanding.
He was met with a low laugh and Crocodile’s hook pressing into his lower abdomen; “ah-ah. I don’t think you’re in any position to be making commands, Marine,” To add emphasis to his statement, Crocodile pressed forward, pushing his knee between Smoker’s own as he resumed kissing up the man’s neck. He stopped to lavish one spot in attention, swirling his tongue over the skin before biting down softly, determined to leave a mark in his wake.
Instinctively, Smoker squirmed, free hand darting up to grab at Crocodile’s hair and tug his head back, cursing himself for so quickly exhaling a shaky ‘please’ . This earned a grunt from Crocodile, who placed one last peck on the reddened skin as if to admire his ‘handiwork’ and allowed Smoker to guide his head back.
“Much better,” Crocodile cooed, permitting Smoker to pull him into a clumsy, needy kiss. A leather-clad hand still tugged at Crocodile’s styled locks, mussing it up as Smoker lost himself in the kiss.
When they pulled away, Smoker was breathing heavily, the rise and fall of his chest deep, slow. Crocodile caught him off guard once more, planting a chaste kiss to the corner of the Marine’s lips, then his cheek, up to his temple and finally his forehead. Crocodile’s hand squeezed Smoker’s, his hook wandering to pull Smoker flush against him by the hip.
Smoker raised a brow as Crocodile bowed his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of Smoker’s neck and murmuring, a distinct sulk within his tone, “It’s not fair.” He moved Smoker’s coat from his shoulder, kissing the exposed skin. “I could have had you all to myself, whenever… wherever.” Another kiss, Crocodile pulled back to gaze at Smoker, bottom lip in a distinct pout; “If you’d have just allowed me to take Alabasta for my own gain.”
The Marine exhaled heavily through his nose, flicking the back of Crocodile’s head before carding his fingers through his dark hair. “You were going to start a civil war.”
“And?”
Silence settled for a moment, holding each other, contemplating the endless what-if. And then Smoker sighed, wrapping his arms around Crocodile’s shoulders, a hint of a smile on his lips. “We should be thankful we get anytime together, you know that.”
Crocodile’s pout deepened; “I know.” He slid his hand down to Smoker’s waist, beginning to rock them both side-to-side slightly. “But I’m not fond of not getting what I want.”
Smoker laughed, a short, hearty bark. “I know.” Smoker tugged at his lover's shoulders and brought him down into a sweet kiss, and Crocodile happily returned the gesture. When he pulled away, Crocodile’s signature, toothy grin was back on his lips.
“One more,”
Smoker exhaled through his nose with a smile and pulled Crocodile back down. He was going to be lost for a little while longer.