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Doflamingo didn't want to have to tell Crocodile that he was touch-starved, that he was lonely; that he was bored, and needed affection and attention.
He didn't want to admit that the infrequent warlord meetings— where he had to travel and stay without his usual family coterie— were a miserable torturous trial for his emotional health.
He wanted Crocodile to know. He should just know.
Doffy heaved his way on top of Crocodile's lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He nuzzled his head on his neck.
"Tell me I'm pretty, Croccy."
Crocodile kissed his cheek and sighed. "You're insane."