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“Answer the question or-” Roger paused for dramatic emphasis. He had always been a man for making a big deal out of anything. “Take a shot. See who’s the most honest around here.” It seemed harmless enough, with a crew who had been sailing together for as many years as they had, they didn’t have many secrets.
The game started slow. Roger prodded at Oden, who was proving himself to be rather secretive. Rayleigh thought that for a man who was known to cause a ruckus anywhere he went, there shouldn’t have been things he would be afraid to answer. Shouldn’t have been, anyway. Someone asked Spencer if he and Gaban were a thing, assuming he would be an easy target, only for the pony-tailed man to answer with a confident grin. Gaban turned a shade of red that reminded the crew of a certain apprentice of theirs and declared he was done with the game after that.
After an hour most of the crew had either tapped out or passed out. The only few to remain were Roger, Rayleigh, and Crocus, who was about to admit his defeat anyway. Leaving the captain and the first mate sitting across from each other, pleasantly tipsy and both exuding confidence about victory in their game.
“My turn.” Rayleigh declared. It brought an impious grin to Roger’s lips.
“Shoot, Dark King.”
Rayleigh leaned in, propping his elbow against his knee and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why me? Of all the people in the world, on an island full of people with boats, why me?”
Roger feigned surprise at the question, as if it was some sort of blasphemous accusation. “You were just right there when I was thinking about it.”
“No, it was more than that, wasn’t it?” Rayleigh’s tone dripped with insinuation, shooting his captain a decently suggestive stare and accompanying sly grin.
The dark haired man reached for the glass in front of him, filled only halfway with booze. It wasn’t that Roger hadn’t had much to drink, just that they kept refilling his cup. A man of Roger’s size was meant to hold alcohol like a cactus in the desert. Rayleigh watched as his captain pressed his lips to the rim of the cup, only for him to stop before the liquid hit his tongue. “Actually- Well there’s no point in keeping it a secret, now is there?” Roger met his first mate’s gaze and offered back a similarly devious grin. “You caught my eye, Ray. Hottest person on that godforsaken island and you had a boat. Of course, I was going to pick you.” And as though Roger had not dropped a bomb on Rayleigh, he took a swig of his drink anyway, not breaking any eye contact with the blond.
It was a well deserved turn for Rayleigh to be surprised at the answer. His eyes went wide behind his glasses. A split second too late did he pull them from his face and pinch the bridge of his nose, knowing that Roger was sure to have caught that response. “I must have had much more to drink than I thought.”
Rayleigh stands, confident on his feet in a way that makes him think he maybe isn’t as drunk as he thought he may be. As he puts his glasses back on, Roger is quick to rise and stride in two large steps over to him, standing toe to toe with his first mate whom he effortlessly towers over. Rayleigh eyes him all the way up, taking in the sight of a figure chiseled by artisan gods, large hands that could wrap all the way around his waist if they so desired, a smile that he had not only grown to like, but to love. He noticed every detail of his captain's face, something he had committed to memory. Rayleigh liked those high cheekbones and quirky smile that hid beneath Roger’s mustache, even if he would make fun of his captain for the fuzzy caterpillar on his face.
“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Roger popped each of his words, glaring down at Rayleigh. Despite his stance, Rayleigh with crossed arms and all, the dark haired man didn’t falter in opposition to the blond.
Neither of them dared back down, a competitive spirit lively in both of them. Rayleigh had never considered Roger, well not seriously at least. He’s always been sure of his sexuality, sure that he didn’t care as long as he was having a good time with whoever ended up in bed beside him. And yeah, he’d thought about that person being his captain once or twice--or more--never as a serious consideration.
Rayleigh uncrossed his arms and unceremoniously draped them over his captain's shoulders. “So you picked the first member of your crew by thinking with your dick? Real good story to tell the kids.”
Roger didn’t hesitate to follow the shorter man’s lead. He rested one hand at the small of Rayleigh's back, holding him steady enough for the latter to lean back into the touch. “Shanks already knows very well that a captain’s first mate must be interesting. Easy on the eyes.”
Arms dropped from Roger’s wide shoulders and Rayleigh’s hands now rested against slightly scarred pectorals. “You are not teaching children what ‘easy on the eyes’ means, right?” A sheepish grin crept across the captain’s face. Rayleigh could only shake his head in reply.
“I think it’s my turn to ask a question, yeah?” Roger pulled Rayleigh in close, close enough that Rayleigh was burning up in his captain’s engulfing heat. He leaned down, lips ghosting over the shell of Rayleigh’s ear. Roger could smell the shampoo lingering in the blond’s hair, the familiar scent of cheap rum, and the comforting redolence of a man he had spent many nights sleeping next to. “Why did you let me whisk you away, hm?” Rayleigh hummed a reply. It was not an answer, not in the slightest, but he didn’t move to drink.
Rayleigh let himself stay in the firm grasp for a moment longer. He’d be a liar to say he didn’t enjoy the warmth and the safety. “I think I wanted you to ‘whisk me away’, as you put it. Not like you’re hard to look at either, cap?”
Something in the air snapped, circuits in Roger’s head started shorting, and it all made sense. Roger pried himself off Rayleigh just enough to press a firm kiss against those lips. Rayleigh hummed again, this time in definite agreement. He kissed back easily, taking the lead in a dance he didn’t intend to have happened. The blond was more than glad to have it taken from him as Roger’s tongue slipped past his lips, dragging against his own and delving deep into the heat of his mouth.
A creak in the distance had Rayleigh cracking open an eye that he hadn’t remembered shutting. In the corner of his eye he swore he saw a flash of red and blue. He pushed Roger back who only inched forward again for more.
“I feel like I've been waiting for you to do that for years.” Rayleigh admitted. His palm dragged up his captain’s neck and patted twice against his stubbly cheek. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be getting to bed. We should be docking tomorrow, I’d like to be prepared for that.”
Roger huffed an irritated sigh. “You could sleep with me.” He offered with another fiendish grin.
“Then we wouldn’t get much sleeping done, now would we?” Rayleigh was quick with a rebuttal. He backed away from the human wall in front of him. The blond pivoted on his heel but took leisurely steps to his sleeping quarters.
“Night, Ray.”
“G’night, cap.”