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Doflamingo met Crocodile in ECON 117. He had prematurely assumed that Crocodile was the professor of the class with his slicked back raven hair in his fancy outfit. Doflamingo knew a thing or two about fashion and didn’t think someone with enough sense or money would be wearing such high quality threads to class. He admired the man from afar at first, eyeing his tight-fitting button up, his perfectly tailored taupe slacks, and his eye-catching green accent piece tied neatly around his neck and tucked into the front of his shirt. When Crocodile sat down next to him, Doflamingo was enthralled.
They weren’t friends, but neither were they strangers. Doflamingo learned that Crocodile was 28 and when he asked why Crocodile was in college at his age, he was told about some surgery with a long recovery and other things that got in the way. Crocodile had also learned a fair amount of Doflamingo's life, mostly against his will. He knew that Doflamingo came from a rich and wealthy family, but his mother had died when he was young and his father had done little to no good for him. Crocodile also learned of Rosinante, Doflamingo’s much more accident-prone little brother. He was polite, didn’t say much, but looked strikingly similar to Doflamingo. If he hadn't known, Crocodile might have assumed they were twins.
Two weeks before midterms, Crocodile stopped showing up to class. It was one day, then two, and then a week. Doflamingo knew he couldn’t have dropped out, but his suspicions were confirmed when their professor had asked Doflamingo to deliver some papers to Crocodile. He wasn’t sure how ethical it was of their professor to disclose information like another student's address, but Ms. Tsuru wasn’t the kind of lady that Doflamingo really wanted to argue with.
Doflamingo spent the rest of his day drifting off into daydreams about what kind of life Crocodile lived outside of school. He knew that Crocodile worked as a card dealer at a casino, but the rest was a mystery. When he looked up the address Ms. Tsuru had given him, he noted that it was an apartment building, but a nice one and not too far from campus.
At his earliest convenience, Doflamingo drove his very pink, very expensive sports car to the address given to him. He eagerly ascended the stairs three at a time and rapped quick, firm knocks on the door. Doflamingo heard shuffling on the other side before it cracked open with a taut chain just below his eye level. He could make out the thin slits of gold eyes through the opening. The door shut again, the chain rustled, and then was opened wider.
Crocodile stood in a pair of baggy, gray sweatpants and a plain looking white shirt. He immediately notices that strands of Crocodile’s soft looking black hair fall over his face and his eyes are framed by thin, rectangular glasses. Doflamingo is a bit taken aback with how uncut he looks in the outfit and cracks a goofy grin at the shorter man.
“Why are you here?” Crocodile is quick to ask. He steps out of the doorway, pulling the door mostly shut behind him before crossing his arms across his chest. “And how the hell did you get my address?” His eyebrows are knitted, partially in confusion and partially in frustration.
Doflamingo holds out a paper clipped stack of pages in response. “Tsuru asked me to bring ‘em. She gave me your address.”
Crocodile sighs, uncrossing his arms to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I thought she was going to email these to me.” He mutters to himself as he swipes the papers from Doflamingo’s grasp. “Thank you, I suppose. I’d invite you in and offer a drink as a proper thanks, but-” Before he can finish, the door is pulled wide open. Crocodile turns quickly, but ultimately not fast enough to stop it. A small child stood wide-eyed and curious. The top of his head barely reached Crocodile’s knee and his arms were raised up to reach the doorknob above his mess of black hair.
“Baby, what are you- never mind.” Crocodile squats down to meet the kid’s eyes. He sounds more gentle than Doflamingo has ever heard. “Go back inside, I will come back in a minute.”
“Mama, who is that?” He questions. Doflamingo notes that his ‘s’ comes out more like a ‘z’ and his ‘th’s come out like ‘d’s. It does not go unnoticed to Doflamingo that the child has called Crocodile his mother.
Doflamingo can't help himself but ask. “You have a kid?”
Crocodile sighs again, this time in defeat. “Just come inside you insolent bird. Shoes off at the door.” He walks back inside, hand on the child's back to usher him further in.
The blond obeys the order with excitement. It is no secret that Doflamingo is enamored with Crocodile, and it hasn’t been since about half an hour after meeting the man. It was bordering something reminiscent of adolescent infatuation. He does as he is told and sheds his sleek loafers by the door and pushes it closed as he is fully inside.
He takes a moment to survey the place. There is a dark brown couch directly to his left inside the apartment and a television on a stand in front of it, pushed against the wall. From there, to the right, is a room holding only a console table under some wide windows and a pair of metal slotted doors at the end. The whole place is carpeted, save the entryway and kitchen, which looked incredibly dated. To his right is a countertop with a couple of bar stools underneath it and the decently sized kitchen to back it up. There is a dining table and a hallway that Doflamingo can see at least four doors down.
Crocodile huffs, reconsidering his decision to let Doflamingo into his home. He sets the stack of papers down on the counter and then reaches for the child, who is quickly hoisted up and sat on his hip. Even in better lighting, Doflamingo can’t see the resemblance between the two of them. Crocodile’s skin is much paler in comparison and his eyes are a shimmering gold hue, the kid has rather tanned skin and deep brown eyes. Doflamingo wonders if he looks more like his mother, or father; he's not really sure at this point.
“Luffy,” Crocodile addresses the child with a soft tone. “This is Doflamingo. He brought me some papers from school.”
“Mingo!” The child, Luffy, echos.
Crocodile exhales a laugh barely audible. “Yes, Mingo. He won’t be here long.” Doflamingo liked hearing his new nickname out of Crocodile’s mouth just as much as he liked hearing it from the child. It filled his chest with a warm and welcome feeling, reminding him of his brother and the awful nickname given to him by Rosinante when they were much younger.
Doflamingo offered Luffy a wide smile and a wave with both hands. Luffy quickly reached out towards the blond, begging to be held by him instead. Doflamingo could read the hesitation on Crocodile’s face at the action, but handed him over in resignation nonetheless. Luffy made quick work to climb up Doflamingo’s chest and seat himself on pink feather padded shoulders. His baby hands found their way into his hair, holding onto him tightly.
“I wish I could say he isn’t usually like this but,” Crocodile watched his son running his fingers through Doflamingo’s heavily product filled hair with a sigh. “He is always like this. Sure as hell didn’t get this from me.”
“So, he is yours?” Doflamingo queries again.
With free hands, Crocodile made his way into the kitchen and pulled the kettle off the stove top to refill it. “Yes, he’s mine.” His reply is short, almost irritated at the question. “Didn’t you hear him? I’m clearly his parent.”
Doflamingo nods at the jab. He takes a seat on the barstool furthest from the door and pulls Luffy off his shoulders to sit him in the stool to the right. “He calls you ‘mama’?”
Crocodile reaches into a cabinet, grabbing two mugs and one travel cup with a lid. Part of him doesn't want to answer, for self-preservation and because he knows it’s none of Doflamingo’s business, but he can't help himself. He wouldn't want to lie or try to hide his child, after all he is a proud parent, and he loved his son more than anything. “Yes,” he doesn’t bother clarifying. “Do you want green or black tea?”
“Black.” Doflamingo doesn’t miss a beat before he’s interrogating Crocodile further. “You’ve been missing class.” It’s more of a statement than a question. “Because of the kid?”
Luffy stands on the barstool in retaliation, knowing Doflamingo was talking about him. Doflamingo’s hand shot up to rest against Luffy’s back just in case. “Mama stayed home to take care of me.” He exclaimed proudly. Crocodile seemed unfazed at the reaction from his son, only bothering to check them from the corner of his eye while he prepared their drinks.
“Luffy caught the flu, nothing serious. I still went to work, but I couldn’t ask my brother to watch him all the time.” Crocodile handed one mug to Doflamingo and the lidded cup to Luffy. He sat back down knowingly as Crocodile dropped a few marshmallows into his cup. “Be careful with your hot chocolate, please.” His words offered a plea, but his tone indicated a well known rule, if not a warning.
Doflamingo eyed him quizzically. “And why would he call you mama and not papa, or daddy, or something more…” he hesitated for the word. “Masculine?”
Crocodile furrowed his eyebrows at the repeated question. Logically, he knew he owed Doflamingo no answers and could go the rest of his life without this topic ever coming up again. He also knew that Doflamingo was a pushy bastard above all else, and he would pester Crocodile until his lungs gave out. Crocodile can't remember when he began to give in so easily to the bird. “Technically speaking, I am his mother. That's all he knows. Not that it matters what my son calls me.”
“Mama is mama.” Luffy contributes to the conversation. “Papa is not here,” He continued. Doflamingo can see the color drain from Crocodile’s face as the child speaks.
“What Luffy means is that his father is not present. We,” Crocodile seems to search for the right way to put it. He taps his nails against the mug nestled in his hands. “It’s complicated. I haven’t seen him since before Luffy was born.”
Doflamingo feels a spark of rage pop in his chest. He isn’t sure why he’s mad, but he knows he is. “So a deadbeat.”
The older man sighs, leaning over the kitchen sink with his forearms propped against the counter. “I won’t lie and say no, but I knew Dragon was a busy man when I got involved with him.” Crocodile spoke almost kindly of the man. It wasn’t fond and forgiving, but he clearly held no resentment for the situation. “Plus, I don’t think I would have liked his parenting style. If Dragon’s father is any indication of that, Luffy is better off with just me.”
They both watched as Luffy sat down on the stool only to climb off. He made a grabby hand gesture at Doflamingo who both stood up with his own mug and handed the child his own lidded cup. Luffy waddled off towards the hallway, demanding to be followed.
“You ought to just follow him,” Crocodile warned. “He really wants to show you his room.”
Doflamingo needed to hear less. He followed after Luffy. “Mama’s office.” He pointed to the first door in the hallway. It was a long rectangular room with a glass paneled door on the other end that led to what Doflamingo had assumed to be their small laundry room. The walls of the room were painted a dark, wine red and were lined with black bookshelves stacked as full as possible. In the middle of the room was a dark wood desk topped with a laptop and a lamp amongst other trinket like items. It suited Crocodile well.
Luffy proceeded to inform Doflamingo that the next room was his. Another long rectangular room littered with toys and costume pieces illuminated by the sunlight beaming through the window against the back wall. Doflamingo noted that his walls were painted like the ocean, waves and big boats stickered all the way around. Luffy’s bed, which he ran to jump into and stand on, was built to look like a pirate ship, matching his skull and crossbones bedsheets.
Crocodile padded down the hall himself, nudging past Doflamingo’s looming frame and pulling Luffy off the bed. He took the cup from his child’s hands and set it on the nightstand. Doflamingo watched as he playfully tossed the child onto the mattress and began poking playfully at his sides. The room very quickly filled with jovial laughter and silly squeals of joy. “I told you about standing on the bed, little man.” Luffy only replied with more giggling and a half serious nod.
Once more, Luffy stood up on the bed as if he hadn’t just been told not to do it, but this time reached up for Crocodile. There was no argument before the man picked him up, sitting him back on his hip. Crocodile grabbed the cup as well and handed it back to Luffy as he stepped out and back into the hallway.
“Bathroom is here, not that it matters. And the big room is mine.” Crocodile walked back past Doflamingo, who had already stepped out of Crocodile's way. “No, you may not see my bedroom. That’s a third date kind of thing.”
Doflamingo snorted out a laugh. “Aw, Croccy, I didn’t realize this was a date.”
Before he could say anything else, Crocodile shot him an icy glare. Doflamingo thinks that if looks could kill, he would at least be fatally wounded. “You know it isn’t. Now get out of here. I have work to catch up on.”
“Aw! Mingo leaving?” Luffy whined at the suggestion. “Can Mingo stay?”
Crocodile wasn’t sure which of them was going to be the bigger pain to deal with. “No, Mingo cannot stay.” The words came out with a bit more vehemence than he intended. “Maybe another time.” It looked painful for the words to leave Crocodile’s mouth, his jaw clenching and his lips turning to an uncomfortable grimace.
Doflamingo decided that just this once he would cut his losses and accept the invitation to come back some other time. “See you soon, Crocodile.” His voice dripped with mirth. He walked back over to the door and slid his shoes back on. Luffy flailed his arms around enough for Crocodile to put him down and walk over to Doflamingo at the doorway.
“Mingo, play with me next time.” Luffy insisted with crossed arms.
Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose. “Luffy, don’t go inviting people over like that. Doflamingo, do not show up unannounced to my home. I will not let you in.” He was stern in his words.
“Okay, okay. I will ask to come over. I’ll see you around, little guy.” Doflamingo conceded to Crocodile while offering a pat on the head to Luffy. On his way out he noticed Luffy waving to him and Crocodile’s questioning gaze.
Doflamingo thought about it for the rest of the night. He liked seeing Crocodile, but seeing Crocodile with a child, let alone being kind and gentle, had his heart doing somersaults. Doflamingo had always been a fan of kids, he and Vergo had their fair share of raising them between Baby and Buffalo, even Dellinger. It was a side of Crocodile he hadn’t expected, and he liked it more than he could admit out loud. The warm bloom in his chest didn’t subside until he went to bed.
It came back as soon as he saw Crocodile in class the following afternoon. “You should let me come over again,” Doflamingo pleaded. “I'll bring dinner,” he included in his offer as if something so simple would entice Crocodile enough to let him in.
“If you can wait until Thursday, I’m not working that night.” Crocodile muttered, hoping his voice was quiet enough that Doflamingo wouldn’t even hear the offer. The older man didn’t dare turn his head, knowing that Doflamingo was probably beaming a ridiculous grin.
Doflamingo did wait until Thursday and as promised he delivered a very expensive looking sushi platter. Every kind of roll Crocodile had ever heard of was presented to him in a neat pinwheel shape. He could get used to it. Luffy was excited to see Doflamingo again with exclamations of “Doffy” and “Mingo” every couple of minutes.
Following their meal, Luffy begged Crocodile to put on a movie. Doflamingo encouraged it from Luffy. The child crawled over to Doflamingo and then promptly climbed up his body to sit on his shoulders. Crocodile added that Luffy liked being that high up and Doflamingo was welcome to pull him off whenever he wanted, though he never did.
Crocodile gave in to the kid, unable to deny his son even the smallest things. A movie about pirates played though Doflamingo wasn’t really paying attention. Luffy’s attention was quickly caught, and he focused on the screen so intently that it was amusing. Every few minutes, Crocodile would eye his child perched on Doflamingo’s shoulders and crack a small smile to himself, one he was sure only he would know about. Doflamingo didn’t leave that night until Luffy was put to bed.
“He really likes you, you know.” Crocodile hummed the statement as he straightened up his living room.
Doflamingo cracked back a proud grin. “Kids tend to like me.” He attempted to offer some help in the tidying. “I’m glad he does. It gives me an excuse to see you outside of school.”
“I mean it, Doflamingo,” Crocodile threatened. “If you show up here unannounced I will not let you in.” Doflamingo almost believed him. Almost.
After that there were a couple of times when Doflamingo showed up uninvited, just to say hi to Luffy. Crocodile would always glare, but never kicked him out. It became a regular thing for them. At some point, Doflamingo started spending the night, even nosing his way into Crocodile’s bed with him.
There were also times when Doflamingo was explicitly invited over. Doflamingo didn’t know what to do with himself in those moments. Usually, it was because of Luffy’s incessant pleading to see Doflamingo. Twice it was because Crocodile was home alone. Doflamingo didn’t dare question the nice things dropped in his lap.