Chapter Text
Penguin stares down at what appears to be the remains of a cookie jar, empty and utterly devoid of any crumbs or even the slightest hint of chocolate left.
His left eye twitches, and he feels annoyance surge in him like a sudden tidal wave.
Whoever did it literally licked the jar clean. No shame at all.
Normally, on any other day, if any of the crew had come to him with an empty cookie jar and waved their fists in the air, swearing that they’d find the culprit by any means necessary, he would have nodded in passionate agreement and helped them out in fervour.
However, this is his cookie jar, and his cookies stolen. This is his business to settle, and his punishment to give. He's known for having a healthy bank of patience, but not for stolen belongings of his.
Penguin marches out of the kitchen out into the connecting hallway, boots clacking mercilessly against the metal floor and making a resounding noise like a gong. Hints of Haki squeeze against the cookie jar clasped in his fist and he proceeds on his righteous journey, albeit a short one, through the sub to the recreational room where he knows most of the crew is gathered.
He reaches it soon enough and goes through the doorway and into the room via a series of long strides. The Heart Pirates take note of his appearance and immediately, a hush falls over them, feeling the anger coming off from him as it rattles their bones thoroughly.
See, there were a few unspoken rules among the Hearts. One, respect and care for their Captain. Two, never rouse his ire on any occasion, for there would be hell to pay.
Three, never enrage Penguin, for he would turn on you in a manner of seconds and eat you alive.
The Heart Pirates look among themselves frantically. Which idiot had the gall to provoke him this time?
Penguin slams his cookie jar down on a table in the centre of the room, sending a tremor throughout the room.
"So," He forces a smile, teeth bared and grinning. "Would anyone care to tell me who ate my cookies?"
All at once, the room explodes in hushed commotion, with fingers flying about to point at any and everyone to offer some kind of semblance for the unanswered question. Nobody wanted to be at the short end of the stick for Penguin's lost patience. In their defence, it took a lot for him to snap and if anyone messed up, Penguin would give a sigh and offer his help, which is why the crew looked up to his guidance many times.
There was no helping them this time, however.
Penguin stands forlornly in the middle of all the raucous chattering and kneads his forehead. They were never going to get anywhere like this. He spies a glance around the room, looking at each Heart carefully. There were a few known troublemakers in the crew, so he had some inkling as to who could have done it, but he just needed to be sure.
Taking a few measured steps, Penguin looks at his crew members from head to toe. He was confident enough that he knew them well enough to spot any discrepancies in their usual behaviour, but apparently, minutes of close inspection was all it took for him to find the culprit.
Reddish-brown hair and chocolate stains were never a good match, he concludes.
He struts over to stop in front of Shachi and squats down to gaze right into his face. Guilty as charged—the no-good cookie thief gasps at the provocation and steels any eye contact away from Penguin, whose eyes are boring straight into his soul with cold blue.
“Shachi.” He sing-songs, cracking his knuckles. "That wouldn't happen to be my cookies you ate, right?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about…?" Shachi holds his arms behind his head, whistling nervously. "I didn't eat any cookies today."
Penguin’s hand reaches out and grips the underside of Shachi’s face tightly, and holds out a thumb to swipe roughly at the side of Shachi's mouth, forcing a squeak out of him.
He sticks the digit in his own mouth and sucks. It tastes like chocolate chip.
His chocolate chip cookies.
"Then why do you taste like chocolate?"
Shachi's cheeks turn crimson on command, mixed mortification and embarrassment for having been found out so quickly. "Uhh…it's my own chocolate?"
"Right. Okay. Would you step outside with me for a while? I have something to talk to you about."
Penguin gets up from his haunches, grunting while he does so, and he dusts himself down. Cookie jar forgotten, he snatches up the front of Shachi's boiler suit and drags him out as he heads for the exit of the room. As he goes on his way, the Heart Pirates heave a collective sigh and either express well-meaning sympathy or pointed looks of exasperation because frankly, this was not new for Shachi. They gaze after him longingly, trying their hardest to ignore his pleas for help.
He was going to get his ass whooped .
The door slams behind them and the crew fears for his safety.
—
As they step out into the corridor, Shachi takes his chances and steals one, timid glance at the best friend he’s wronged. And he’s right on the money; Penguin is positively fuming, and there is an aura of electricity surrounding him that sizzles and crackles and lights up the air like an array of lanterns on New Year’s Day.
Penguin is a benevolent being that gives and gives for the sake of the crew and their captain, and he is fearless yet smart enough to know when to retreat and calculate. He is one of the brightest amongst the Hearts and is invaluable, yet his anger is like a fury hath unleashed from hell and has fangs that sink into flesh and spits it out like poison from a bite wound.
In other words, being on the receiving end of Penguin’s anger spells trouble, times ten and infinity after that.
Penguin advances on him and snarls, which terrifies Shachi to no end.
“WaitwaitwaitPenguin—before you murder me, please consider that nothing beats your grief, which is what you would feel if you killed me. Please?”
Desperation rears its ugly head, but it is nonetheless honest.
“Compelling, but you also ate my cookies, which were baked using rare cacao beans from a remote island in the absolute middle of nowhere in the New World, and I spent ages preparing the chocolate, so would you care to explain to me why you gobbled all of them down, Shachi?”
“I…”
He has to explain himself very carefully now. It would determine his outcome in this life or death situation, which he’s found himself in a lot of ever since becoming a pirate. But no fear—he’s the master of getting out of pinches!
“I was…hungry.”
Nope, scratch that. There’s no saving him now. He’s an idiot.
He starts writing up a mental will as Penguin corners him up against the wall and a single tear slides down his cheek in mourning. He’s lived long enough anyway, having no regrets; he’s gone on seafaring adventures with his friends, had a family that he loves and loves him, and he will die without ever revealing his embarrassing secret.
Perfect requiem.
Shachi squeals as Penguin aims his thousand-yard glare into his eyes and he shuts them tight, preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. Strangling? Old-fashioned, but expected. Bleeding out? Difficult to clean up. Guillotine? Now that was fun, following in the footsteps of anarchy, and keeping a macabre souvenir for his soon-to-be bereaving crew. Hell, maybe even Law could find some use for it, cracking open his skull and peering into the mysteries of the human mind, especially for such a person of his psychology.
He could even see the creepy grin on their captain’s face now, examining his brain stem and lobes and all.
He gulps down a breath and waits for the sweet release of death. He waits, and waits, and waits—
—but it never comes.
Puzzled, Shachi cracks one eye open, and peers at Penguin who is frozen in place. His shoulders are shaking, he guesses from anger, yet he seems to be contemplating what murder method he should use from his repertoire.
Until he takes a closer look, and Penguin’s cheeks are bright red, his forehead creased beyond belief.
“…Penguin?” He mumbles, blinking both his eyes open.
He gets no response in return, and before he can say anything else, Penguin surges forward and kisses the side of his lips, tongue sticking out to wipe clean the last bit of chocolate and lips grazing Shachi’s own before they reluctantly pull away.
“…Stop being so damn cute.” Penguin whispers frustratedly, the same blush still on his face. “I can’t stay mad at you because of it.”
And Shachi collapses inwardly.
Did he hear that correctly?
Then, without so much as inflicting a scratch on him, Penguin glares at him again and storms away down the corridor, the sound of his boots against metal a stark ringing in Shachi’s ears.
What?!
He clutches his face in a frenzy and rubs his hands over the spot where Penguin just kissed him and lets go of the breath held in his chest, coming out of him in a gasp that rocks through his body and sends him to his knees. He crouches down, his face flooding with warmth and his ears buzzing, as he tries to comprehend whatever the fuck just happened.
Penguin kissed him! His best friend—no, his crush!
There’s an imaginary hamster running cartwheels in his brain right now, as he tries to calm the thundering beat of his heart and his frazzled senses. He feels his world spinning out of its axis and careening off course entirely, but dear god , it feels so good having experienced that sliver of affection from someone he considered lucky to even be friends with, and he’s ecstatic.
Penguin thinks he’s cute.
Throughout the whole ordeal, he had sworn never to steal Penguin’s cookies again, but now, he can’t help but concoct more plans to steal more of his things in the future. If he was being entirely honest, he’s deathly terrified of the angry version of his best friend, but he also found him surprisingly hot as hell.
He’s dumbfounded, however. What exactly did Penguin feel for him?
Shachi reaches a hand into his hair and sighs, confusion accompanying joy. If he was concerned, he would have preferred his secret crush to stay secret forever. Feelings only brought trouble, especially for their voyage out at sea, where if any feelings got out everyone would be forced to sit down and talk about it.
And that was nothing but an inconvenience. He didn’t need to burden Penguin with his stupid feelings. The man had done enough for him already.
He leans backwards and sits in the middle of the hallway, forlorn.
Perhaps this was all he was going to get in response to his feelings. A kiss and dash, with Penguin stealing his heart and running away with it.
He’d let him do it already anyway.