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Amazing how a single phone call about Christmas can ruin one’s entire day. Don’t misunderstand, Crocodile wasn’t a Scrooge or Grinch-like character with an unreasonable distaste for the season in general, but he’d be the first to admit he didn’t enjoy large family gatherings.
Thus his current upset.
For the first time since Crocodile was a little kid, he was going to have several days of the Christmas break spent just with his dad. The rest of his adopted siblings wouldn’t be able to make it home until Christmas Eve, which left the entire week to bring back old traditions from Crocodile’s mother that Pops hadn’t wanted to continue once the family grew too big.
To his immense frustration, Crocodile had allowed himself to get excited.
And then Pops called.
Good news, he’d said, things got moved around, and now your brothers will be able to join us for your entire break!
How wonderful.
Crocodile did the only thing he could think of and lied, saying he probably wouldn’t be able to make it home himself. Since it was his final year at university, there were still plenty of things to handle in preparation for graduation. Of course that earned him a scolding for not prioritizing family. Hypocritical bastard.
He was trembling when he hung up, ending the call before saying something he might regret, and furiously grabbed the first thing he could reach and chucked it at the wall. The aluminum water bottle crashed by the door just as it started cracking open, and a blonde head poked through, eyes wide and wary at the sound.
“Everything okay?” Rosinante asked, cautiously making his way into their room in case Crocodile decided to throw something else. He stooped down to pick up the projectile water bottle - only slightly stumbling while doing so - and held it out to Crocodile.
If not for the grunt he received in response, he would’ve thought his roommate wasn’t aware of him being there at all. Crocodile’s jaw was clenched, and his leg bounced as he white-knuckled his phone and snatched the bottle back.
“Did Doffy do something again?” An unfortunately always viable question.
As a freshman, Rosinante never should’ve been able to room with a senior like Crocodile, but he had gotten trapped between the ever raging inferno of his brother’s incessant need to insert himself into Crocodile’s life.
When Rosi found out that Doffy planned to finagle his way into being Crocodile’s roommate, he felt it appropriate to warn the senior of the situation. Any other potential roommates and involved staff members had been bribed, which only left one option. They informed the office that it was Rosinante Donquixote who was supposed to room with Crocodile, because Rosi was the only person that Doffy wouldn’t be able to pay off once the room assignments were registered.
To be honest, Rosi didn’t even think Crocodile disliked Doffy that much, but it would help if Doffy could sometimes be less……himself.
Instead of answering, Crocodile shot up from his chair and hissed a terse, "I'm going for a walk," and let the door slam shut behind him. He stormed out to the quad, others quickly moving out of his way when they saw the fierce expression on his face. Taking walks around the area usually helped him calm down, but the fresh air did little to soothe him, the crisp winter chill instead biting at his cheeks.
While he had thankfully worn a sweater, he scolded himself for deciding to go outside without grabbing his coat, but being angry at the weather felt better than focusing on the conversation with his dad. Crocodile rubbed at his arms but refused to go back inside to the warmth, not ready to explain things to Rosinante. At least his roommate knew when to be quiet and not ask questions.
He felt a buzzing in his pocket but didn't answer it, not wanting to even pull it out to look.
It stopped, and Crocodile released a sigh.
Then it started vibrating again just as a cheerful voice sounded from behind, "Croccy!"
Clad in white pants and a ridiculously puffy pink coat, Doflamingo strode up to him with his customary grin. The junior must have said something else, but Crocodile was too distracted by the endlessly ringing phone.
Deciding to solve at least one problem, he pulled it out, but when he saw Marco's name on the screen, his teeth clenched. Hissing an admittedly undeserved, "Fuck off!" at Doflamingo who paused at the unusually harsh tone, Crocodile stormed away wishing he could find a place to actually be alone.
Of course.
It figured that Pops would call Marco. The first kid to be adopted into the family and often treated like the mature, eldest brother despite the fact that he was actually a year younger than Crocodile. Those two were always each other's first call when they decided Crocodile did something wrong.
He picked a bench and plopped down, immediately feeling a chill settle deeper once he wasn’t moving anymore. Leaning his elbows onto his knees, Crocodile stared mindlessly at the missed call notifications on his phone screen, occasionally having to unlock it when it went dark.
When the text finally showed up all it said was, ‘Call me,’ which, given the context, actually meant something along the lines of, ‘I know you’re ignoring me. Stop acting like a child.’
Because it was always Crocodile that was the childish one.
Fuck clearing his head with a walk; it was time for whiskey.
Drinking away his problems was a habit that Crocodile fought hard not to fall into, not since he blacked out one night his sophomore year after a particularly awful fight with the family. Two days of feeling ill, and he only felt worse about everything.
That was actually the night he met Doffy. Even though the night was a complete blur, he remembered the large pink blob that had all but carried him to his dorm. By the time Crocodile asked himself how a freshman got into the bar, he’d known Doffy well enough to know a dumb thing like age laws couldn’t keep him out.
When he got back to the room, Rosinante was thankfully still there fidgeting in his chair while struggling to read something on his laptop. He looked over with obvious relief when he saw Crocodile.
“You okay?” Rosi broached, obviously still expecting another rant on what his older brother did.
Crocodile breathed deep and let it all out in a sigh and offered a single word explanation, “Family.”
Rosinante’s soft look of understanding grew less so when he saw Crocodile go straight for the small chest beside his desk and take out the bottle of whiskey stashed inside. When they made the plan to live together, Crocodile made sure he was aware of what had happened before. That it shouldn’t be a problem again but to be aware.
It felt insulting to pour a finger of fine whiskey into a plastic cup, but it was all they had at that moment. Crocodile gently swirled it around and said, “Just need to take the edge off,” but still handed Rosi the bottle for safekeeping just in case the alcohol made Crocodile crash instead of just easing his ire.
Drinking gave Crocodile the urge to smoke, but if he did, then Rosi would inevitably join in and they couldn’t get caught with a room smelling of smoke again. He also wasn’t about to go stand in the cold again, so instead he went to sleep after that thimbleful of alcohol and a gnawing at his insides.
Whatever temporary peace his buzz gave him was burned away the next day when he started having to field his calls and texts. Every day that week he had to keep ignoring his family. It was easier in the beginning when it was just a matter of declining calls and deleting voicemails, but then they wised up and sent text messages where he couldn’t help but see the message before erasing the notification.
All any of them wanted to say was how upset Pops was and that they wanted to see him and everything they possibly could to make Crocodile feel like the bad guy in the situation.
And the worst part was that it was working.
There were a few times that he almost gave in, especially when Thatch got involved and mentioned how much he wanted to see him. It wasn’t that Crocodile didn’t love his brothers or want to spend time with them, but he knew that Pops wouldn’t approve any of their old traditions with the rest of the family there. He said it wouldn’t be fair to the adopted kids and that creating new traditions would be better.
Crocodile never understood why that meant he had to give up his mom, too.
He still didn’t.
“Croc!” The shout jolted Crocodile from his thoughts, and he banged his knee against the underside of his desk almost causing his new plant to tip over. The delicate bunny-eared cactus had been sitting in his room the day after he’d first spoken to Pops with no note, as if the pink ribbon tied around the pot wasn’t obvious. Rubbing the throbbing joint, Crocodile shot a glare over at Rosinante, who cooly met his stare.
“What?” he hissed.
“You’ve been zoned out staring at your phone for half an hour,” Rosi said with a frown. “You’re wallowing. Just call Marco back, or even Thatch, and hash this out.”
“Can’t.”
Rosi sighed. “And why not?”
“Because Marco hasn’t called or texted me at all today,” Croc said with a shrug and a smirk that was equally smug and pained. “Guess he doesn’t care anymore.”
“Of course he cares,” Rosi argued. “He wouldn’t have tried all week if he didn’t.”
Crocodile scoffed. “Caring about me and caring about me not ruining Christmas for Pops aren’t the same thing.” He got up and pulled his heavy coat out of the closet. “I’m going to get some food. Later.” He was out the door before Rosi could protest.
Despite the frozen air, plenty of other students were out enjoying the Saturday. The sunny weather did wonders for lightening the mood before the hellish upcoming finals week, though Crocodile knew they’d all be locked inside their rooms and the library starting the next day.
The dining hall was a short walk away from his dorm building and took him past several school buildings. It was just his strange luck to see a familiar pink coat on the front porch of the Marketing Department. It was one of the very rare times where Crocodile spotted Doflamingo first, and he could see him looking almost thoughtfully at a notebook in his lap.
Crocodile made it all the way to the top of the few stairs nearby before an excited grin turned his way.
“Thanks for the plant,” he said quickly before he could decide whether he’d regret mentioning it at all.
Instead of playing coy - as it was technically an anonymous gift - Doffy was all too happy to accept credit for the gift. “So you liked it?” He got up to move closer to the senior.
Shrugging, Crocodile looked away and forced himself to scowl before saying, “It was okay, I guess. Don’t know why you bothered, though.”
Did Crocodile expect a gift - or more - from Doflamingo? Based on the previous two years, yes. Absolutely. But those always showed up on Christmas Eve and were never as simple as a singular plant.
Doflamingo frowned, a very rare expression for the cheerful man, and said simply, “You seemed really upset when I last saw you.”
Unable to stop a derisive snort, Crocodile narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “You got me a cactus just because you…” He paused suddenly and continued sounding more subdued, “Just because you thought I was upset?”
“Of course I did.” Doffy tilted his head. “I wanted to cheer you up.”
Crocodile was rendered speechless. When he finally regained the ability to talk, he could feel his face burning and forced out an angrier-sounding-than-intended, “Yeah, well, thanks or whatever.”
Never one to falter under Crocodile’s attitude, Doffy instead cooed, “Aw, you’re blushing! Is my Croccy embarrassed?”
“F-fuck off!”
Doflamingo laughed before asking, “What got you so angry anyway?”
Slipping a hand into his pocket to tap his thumb against his phone, Crocodile said, “Just family drama. Probably going to spend most of the break here.” As if summoned, his phone suddenly vibrated. It was a text from Marco and something he realized he should have been expecting.
Meeting Doflamingo’s curious gaze - obvious even from behind his sunglasses - the words tumbled out before he could stop them, “My brother is here.” It certainly explained why he hadn’t sent any messages yet that day.
Crocodile stared at his phone screen thoughtfully, but it was Doflamingo who suggested he go find his brother.
Knowing that he’d have to clean up this mess eventually and that Marco would stubbornly wait all day if necessary, he conceded. As soon as Crocodile reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned back and said, “By the way, Doffy, I’m surprised at you,” with a nod at something above Doffy’s head.
Doflamingo glanced up and gaped at the sprig of mistletoe.
“Should’ve been more prepared,” Crocodile laughed. The image of Doffy’s disbelief and horror kept a grin on his face all the way back towards his dorm building until it faded away at the sight of his brother.
Marco was leaning by the front steps and pushed himself off when he saw Crocodile walking up. The hellos were awkward since they both knew why Marco had come.
Instead of getting right into the obvious reason for the visit, they decided to get a bite to eat - it was as close to neutral ground as they could get.
Lunch was…it went well. He took Marco to a local dive bar, and it was a little tense, both of them ignoring the elephant in the room while they briefly talked about what they’d each been up to recently. Then inevitably Christmas had to be discussed.
Unsurprisingly, Marco started off strong by taking Pops’ side about thinking Crocodile should stick to his original plan and be home the entire break.
Slightly surprisingly, Marco then calmly asked why Crocodile decided to change his plans. When he did, Crocodile huffed and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat without answering.
Marco allowed the silence to stretch on for fifteen long minutes and still didn’t break it or allow an ounce of impatience to show on his face.
Crocodile didn’t know if it was because he knew the conversation wouldn’t end until he spoke or that Marco actually seemed curious to know his side of the argument, but he caved. There weren’t a lot of good ways to say he hadn’t wanted his brothers home, but at least Marco continued to listen to the reason without interrupting.
And then the most surprising thing of the day, maybe the entire year, happened when Marco agreed with him.
“What?” Crocodile asked numbly.
“I’ll talk to Pops about it,” Marco repeated.
Shocked to hear Marco would argue against Pops in favor of Crocodile, he blurted out, “Why?” Which, of course, is one of the worst things to ask after someone had already agreed to help, but he’d fully expected to be accused of being selfish.
The confused furrow in Marco’s forehead was almost mocking. “Because it’s obvious how much you loved her, and I know Pops did, too.” His expression softened. “If you’re alright with it, I’d love to learn your old traditions. I’m sure everyone else would feel the same way.”
“I…” Crocodile cleared his throat and pretended his voice didn’t sound hoarse when he said, “I guess that’d be okay.”
“I’m glad,” Marco said, resting his chin in his hand. “So do you think you’ll come home for the whole break now?”
Crocodile averted his eyes, hating that his lips were tilting upwards against his will. “I’ll think about it.”
Marco smiled knowingly but didn’t comment, instead letting his brother pretend he didn’t care. The air was noticeably less tense as they finished lunch and Crocodile walked him back to his car. They wished each other luck on their respective finals before saying goodbye.
It was a weight off Crocodile’s shoulders and allowed him to set his mind to studying. Not having to waste time dealing with constant texts and calls helped, too, and when they suddenly stopped, he assumed Marco had taken the liberty of informing the family.
As soon as he returned to the dorm, he noticed Rosinante giving him a curious look. There was a small part of Crocodile that wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, but instead he walked over to grab one of Rosi’s textbooks just to drop it on his desk with a heavy thud and barked, “Get to studying, or do you want to fail?”
While that got rid of Rosinante’s attention, Crocodile had to pretend that everytime the blonde looked at his phone it wasn’t a text from Doflamingo, because in Rosi’s opinion, anything that ever happened to Crocodile could somehow be traced back to Doffy.
But Rosi didn’t ask, so Crocodile didn’t tell.
All the better, because the last thing he needed were the brothers distracting him during exam week.
On the final day, Crocodile finished his last exam and was anticipating a chance to relax alone and destress. He knew that Rosinante and his brother had planned on leaving for home earlier that morning, so their room would be empty and quiet.
Instead, he opened the door to the sound of Jingle Bells, and it looked as if Christmas vomited all over his room. Shiny garland spiraled around every surface, a - hopefully - fake tree had been shoved into a corner, lights taped all over the walls, and presents stacked on Rosi’s desk.
Standing in the center of it all, Crocodile wasn’t surprised to see Doflamingo in a pink Santa coat and hat.
“Merry Christmas, Croccy!”
Crocodile didn’t really think he could be blamed that the first words out of his mouth were, “What the hell is all this?”
“Rosi finally told me that you weren’t going home for the break. Well I couldn’t let you turn into a Scrooge, so I stole his roomkey and stayed behind with you!”
Oh. Maybe Crocodile should’ve explained what happened to Rosinante afterall.
On the other hand, how was he supposed to know that the man who adored his family would forgo time with them just to keep Crocodile from spending the days leading up to the holiday miserable and alone.
Unbidden, his cheeks heated up.
Suddenly, Doffy plucked something from his pocket and lifted it up at the same time he pressed a kiss to Crocodile’s cheek. With a wide grin, he pulled back and showed off the sprig of mistletoe.
“I came prepared this time.”
The heat was now a blazing furnace across his entire face.
“You’re such an idiot,” came out with far less bite than Crocodile had planned, judging by the wide grin still splitting Doffy’s face. “Besides, we worked everything out, and I’m driving back tomorrow.”
Grin slowly shrinking, Doffy’s face fell. “Oh,” he said quietly, glancing around at all the decorations he’d put up.
It was like staring at a kicked puppy, and Crocodile sighed. “You’ve got one night to shove Christmas in my face,” he said. “Make it count.” And like a lightswitch the grin was back full force.
“You mean it?”
“Sure, and I’ll give you a lift home tomorrow, too.”
A bundle of fabric was shoved into Crocodile’s arms with an excited, “You won’t regret this, Croccy!”
Unfolding it to find a stereotypical ugly sweater, Crocodile murmured, “I think I already do,” but nonetheless he pulled it on over his head.
Doflamingo’s back was turned as he dug through some of his supplies, so he didn’t see the small smile tugging at Crocodile’s lips, but that was okay. He never did.