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The din of the place—microphone feedback, instruments being tuned, heavy crates being dragged, the usual fare for a rock concert—was getting on Mihawk’s nerves. But it wasn’t just the usual pre-show excitement messing with his head. Earlier in the day, Shanks, One Piece’s lead singer had shared the draft of a new song with the band. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that one line.
He tastes like you only sweeter…
Mihawk knew better than to dwell on Shanks’s lyrics, looking for meaning or a deeper story behind them. A lot of times there wasn’t any, just words that both of them agreed went well together. Some other times there actually was something more, more personal, more heartfelt, a piece of Shanks’s heart spilling over, painting the music. Red.
So yes, he knew better than to rack his brains trying to figure out what Shanks was thinking, who he could have been thinking about when he wrote that. This was far from the only song that hinted at something said between exes or lovers, so there was no special reason for Mihawk to think there was anyone real behind those words. And still, Mihawk couldn’t help it.
Because the truth was that he wanted to know, he needed to know if Shanks had found someone. What would that mean for him?
He tastes like you only sweeter…
Mihawk paced back and forth like a caged lion, then picked up his bass, the one he had carefully decorated himself, sat down on a dusty couch—the only piece of furniture backstage—propping his feet up on a guitar case and plucked the strings morosely.
An annoying voice in his head told him—yelled at him—that if this bothered him so much he could simply ask Shanks about it. Weren’t they best friends after all? But that was part of the problem. Mihawk and Shanks had known each other forever, since they were little kids, running around, pretend-playing an old guitar they’d found in a dumpster. They grew up and as their musical talents developed, their friendship grew stronger as well. Mihawk knew some people wondered why they got along at all since at first sight they were so different. Where Mihawk was quiet and reserved, saving his witty quips only for his closest friends, Shanks was outgoing, charismatic, extroverted, capable of making everyone feel included. Mihawk learned not to resent others for wondering, in the end their opinion didn’t matter, what mattered was that Shanks was his. His friend.
He tastes like you only sweeter…
There was so much history between them that it was hard to disentangle individual events and give them a name.
Like when Shanks had taken to doodle his name on Mihawk’s arm for shows. Mihawk pretended to be indifferent about it, but he loved feeling like Shanks was claiming him in a way, that he belonged to Shanks, loved how Shanks traced his name with his fingertips as if he were admiring a work of art.
Or like the very first time they got drunk and fell from the couch they’d been sitting on, all over each other, laughing until laughter turned to desperate kisses that left them out of breath.
‘You taste so sweet,’ Shanks said that night.
‘It’s just the red wine,’ Mihawk muttered, his heart beating a mad tattoo in his chest.
‘No. It’s you.’ Shanks smiled. ‘Sweet,’ he repeated before falling asleep.
And then. Nothing. Next day neither of them said anything, and even though there wasn’t a trace of regret and no hint of awkwardness between them, it was clear that the previous night had been a one-time thing and what could have been just didn’t happen. It never was. Mihawk told himself that it was a good thing, they saw each other every day anyway and it would be a tragedy to lose Shanks over a bad breakup. He had to tell himself that frequently but he could handle it, he didn’t want to be the asshole who ruined things, he would be a good friend. That wasn’t the only time they made out, and making out wasn’t the only thing they’d done, but it always ended the same way, fading to just another memory the next day. And Mihawk still told himself he was okay with that, that involving feelings would just complicate everything and tear them apart.
But the truth was, feelings had been involved from the very beginning, at least for him: he had been in love with Shanks all along.
He tastes like you only sweeter…
Mihawk could imagine just how those lyrics would sound in Shanks’s voice. Hadn’t he called Mihawk ‘sweet’ so many times? Who could possibly be sweeter? Mihawk gritted his teeth.
‘Careful there,’ someone said, bringing Mihawk back to the present, to the dimly lit green room. ‘You’re going to snap your G string.’ Buggy snickered, pulling his long blue hair into a bun. ‘And your E string, and your A string—’
‘You better go get ready, sound check is about to start,’ Mihawk interrupted him, trying to get Buggy to go away. It didn’t work.
‘So. What’s got your G string in a twist?’ Buggy sat down beside Mihawk.
‘You. Making the same joke twice, it does get old you know?’
‘Uh-huh. Fine. Whatever, Hawk, suffer in silence then.’ Buggy turned around. ‘And where is our fearless leader?’
‘Probably busy writing another song.’ Mihawk shrugged.
‘No, I don’t think… oh. Oh. That’s what’s bothering you.’ Buggy’s grin was so wide it looked as if his face would split in two. ‘Ha! I knew it. Which isn’t really shocking giving how EVERYONE knows it but still.’
‘Shut up, Buggy, just. Don’t. You have no idea.’
‘Ah, but I do. And I’m sick of being around so much pining. It does get old you know?’ Buggy mimicked Mihawk’s words.
‘Pining? I’m not pining, what—’
‘I didn’t mean you.’ Before Mihawk could retort, Buggy yelled at the top of his lungs. ‘SHANKS! SHAAAAAANKS COME HERE NOW!’
‘What’s going on?’ Shanks asked, joining them a few seconds later, bewilderment clear on his face.
‘Nothing—’ Mihawk tried to say but Buggy didn’t let him speak.
‘What’s going on here is… You’re going to work through pffft years of yearning. Who knows how many, I lost count ages ago.’ Buggy stood up ran to the door and locked it from the outside.
'Buggy!’ Mihawk and Shanks yelled, rattling the door.
‘You better hurry, you have fifteen minutes til sound check,’ Buggy said, his voice faint on the other side of the door.
‘What were you talking about just now?’ Shanks asked.
‘He hates your new song,’ Buggy replied. He clearly had his ear pressed to the door.
‘Could you at least leave?’ Mihawk banged on the door again.
‘You hate the new song?’ Shanks asked. ‘It’s just the general idea, we could brainstorm—‘
Mihawk gave up on the door and went back to the couch, letting himself fall back on it, a cloud of dust filling the air. ‘I don’t hate it, Shanks. I’m.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘Tired.’
‘Of the band?’ Shanks moved away from the door and stood up in front of Mihawk.
‘No, of course not.’
Shanks knelt so his face was level with Mihawk’s. ‘Of me?’
Mihawk raised his eyes to meet the redhead’s and shook his head.
‘Then what’s going on? It feels like you’re dumping me but how can you when…’
‘When we’ve never been together,’ Mihawk muttered. ‘It’s nothing, forget it, Shanks. I got way into my head but it doesn’t matter. We’re here and we’re friends, right?’ He looked at the door.
‘Friends,’ Shanks repeated in a tone that had a bitter trace to it even though he was smiling. ‘Because I chose to have you in whichever way you’d let me.’
Mihawk looked back at Shanks wondering if he’d heard right. ‘You…? You never said anything.’
‘I thought I didn’t need to say anything.’ Shanks shrugged. ‘Then you wrote: “Give up what you love before it does you in” and I thought you meant… I was afraid I’d lost you.’ He shook his head.
‘I never knew. I wanted… but I thought if you wanted me in that way… that you would have told me one of those times and when you didn’t, I thought we were just fooling around, killing some time.’
‘And you were fine with that?’
Mihawk nodded and then shook his head. ‘I thought I was, I tried to be, but all I wanted was to tell you I wanted more.’
Shanks took Mihawk’s hand and Mihawk pulled him closer until Shanks was sitting astride him.
‘It’s always been you.’
‘Always you.’
Mihawk couldn’t say who leaned in, who made the few inches between them disappear but it happened and their kiss said so much more than any song.
The door banged open.
‘Aw, disgustingly adorable. Do that on stage and our next shows will be sold out before you know it.’ Buggy cackled. ‘So I take it you two are done being stubborn-slash-oblivious idiots? Yes? Good. We have a show to play. Adoring fans are waiting for me… and someone owes me $20.’ Buggy took their hands and tugged to get them to stand.
‘You bet on us getting together?’ Mihawk asked, shaking his head but he wasn’t really mad, he couldn’t be.
‘Of course not. I bet on WHEN it would happen. Now come ON!’
‘Just a second.’ Shanks rummaged in his pockets and produced a black marker. Mihawk offered his right arm and Shanks wrote his name on it, just as he’d done countless times before but then he added something else below Mihawk’s left eye, from the traces he guessed it was a heart. And then he gave the marker to Mihawk. ‘Would you?’ Mihawk nodded. It went without saying, anything Shanks asked he would do. Mihawk drew the little heart under Shanks’s left eye with something close to reverence and then pressed a soft kiss to Shanks’s smiling lips.
‘Sweet.’