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No matter how far he ran, where he was or the time and date, that moronic sand reptile would still follow him. Damn, he’d still be next to Smoker even if he climbed Mount Everest to the very top.
“To the end of the world, my dear,” the smug bastard said.
The marine was already out of breath by the time he got back to the village’s courtyard, huffing like The Puffing Tom. Though he used his devil fruit to speed up the process of losing Crocodile, he was left with an ominous feeling either way, the knowing feeling on someone’s pair of eyes boring into his back.
He looked around the courtyard, but to no avail, there really was no one.
“Suppose the lack of oxygen got to me…” He silently mutters to himself.
The courtyard was quite big. If anything, this one rivalled the marine headquarters’ courtyard. Grand marble pillars towering above him, and a nicely placed fountain with red and blue peonies surrounding it. It surely looks expensive, and it seemed like the villagers take great pride in the place, seeing the effort they put into maintaining its appearance. But it didn’t help the fact that Smoker could still sense someone watching him from the trees outside the courtyard.
At that very moment, he felt like he was playing a game of cat and mouse, and he knew very well that he was the mouse. All he wanted to do was patrol this village on a random island in the Grand Line after hearing complaints about crime and pirates raiding the bars. Sure, it was overkill of headquarters to send him out of everyone else to ease the fear throughout the village, but he wasn’t here to complain.
He takes a long drag of one of his three cigars, only to abruptly turn his head to the sudden sound of leather shoes clicking on the stone floor. The next thing he knew, he could hear a deep rumbling chuckle resonating through the courtyard, followed by the quickening of the footsteps.
And there he was. Crocodile, in all his glory. The man who wasted so many resources just to look for Smoker, and without a motive. His fur coat was lazily draped across his shoulders, and it was clear that he did in fact clean himself up for this meeting, if the slicked back hair and the faint smell of oakwood and juniper berries being omitted wasn’t enough evidence. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you this entire evening. It’s practically nightfall now, wouldn’t you say, Smoker?” Crocodile gazes at the star filled night, his eyes lighting up at the sight of them.
Smoker only stood there stupidly, without a clue on what to do. He was frozen on the spot. It was such an intimate moment, and to think Crocodile was seeking him out, though Smoker had already known it was him. The noticeable trail of sand definitely implied the pirate wanted to be caught.
The more he mulled over the situation, the more he realised that, ‘ this is quite romantic, actually ’. It was just the two of them, and in a secluded area too. He felt his face burn scarlet at the thought of implications behind that. Pulling a hand to cover his face, he looked up, but gone was that sand gator. He fumbles around, aware that he looked silly doing it. Nevermind his dignity, the pirate was gone, for fuck’s sake! He walks around the courtyard while being on high alert, in case he was to be ambushed.
“Captain, captain, captain. These little actions you do, they’re silly and endearing, but I suggest you stop it before you get dizzy,” the heavy weight of Crocodile’s hand and hook on his shoulder was spine-chilling, to say the least. They gently turn Smoker’s body to face the pirate’s. The hook slithers up to the marine’s chin, lifting it up to face Crocodile.
Smoker was already considered tall, but to Crocodile, he was basically a child compared to the other man’s staggering height. To say it was abnormal is to put it nicely, not like Smoker cared. He had seen a dozen men as tall or taller than Crocodile.
Feeling helpless, Smoker scoffs, his head turning to the side. “So, was it sheer luck and fate that brought you here, or were you deliberately following my every move?” His mood only worsened when Crocodile let out a soft laugh.
“My, you really are a funny one, sweetheart,” he pauses to gently kiss Smoker on the cheek. “If it were luck and fate, I wouldn’t bother being this secretive around you.” He cocks his head to the side to nuzzle into Smoker’s neck.
“Get off- You fool! Not here. Not now,” he pushes, albeit weakly, Crocodile away. The smirk highlighting the long-stitched scar running across his nose bridge melted into a boy-ish grin, the type with malicious intent.
“Not here, you say? Say, I know a tavern nearby where we could both rest there for a whil-” an undignified squawk comes out of Smoker along with a horrified beet-red expression plastered on his face, not like he doesn’t disapprove of the suggestion, but he rather not let Crocodile know of that train of thought.
He had to shield his face from the amount of shame he felt, knowing those words affected him more than he would have liked it to. “No! Not anywhere, any time. Nothing. Now, go back to wherever you came from and let me finish my job in peace. I can’t let the people living here know there’s a warlord roaming around the village,” the marine continues berating the taller man, before being cut off by being peppered with light kisses trailing down his neck, down to his exposed collarbone.
Smoker grits his teeth with unspoken rage, but he can’t help but not pull away. Instead, remaining there to let Crocodile do whatever he pleases. His lips move to Smoker’s, moving slowly and steady against each other. Like lovers, Smoker concludes. Something that they could never be.
The pent up frustration gets the better of him as he balls his fist into Crocodile’s simple white button up, deepening the kiss. Crocodile lets out a soft, surprised sound but isn’t as phased as Smoker thought he would be. In fact, he seemed to lean in, clearly enjoying that Smoker’s guard was down, moving his hook to cup Smoker’s waist.
The lack of oxygen was unbearable, yet the marine couldn’t bear to detach himself from the other, feeling rather comfortable like this. Safe, warm and loved. Being held like some expensive bottle of wine. Those beautiful eyes watched his face, his every blink, every time he furrowed his eyebrows, the sharp edges of his face softening; everything.
When the two finally got their hands off each other, Smoker was gasping for air, a little drunk on the intimacy they both shared. He didn’t even know how much time had passed. Looking up, he catches Crocodile’s unwavering gaze of absolute adoration for him. It was unbelievable, a warlord and a marine captain, secretly having a relationship. The World Government and pirates alike would chew them alive if they ever found out.
“It isn’t fair,” he spits out loud, unbeknownst to him. Crocodile looks at him, curious and intrigued.
“What’s unfair, marine?” He replies in that smooth, deep voice. Smoker’s eyes darted over to look at the pirate straight in his eyes.
“Everything,” he glances at a random pebble on the ground. “I never cared much for the World Government. As a matter of fact, I broke a lot of rules as a marine. Yet, I wish you were just some damn civilian, and not a pirate. Furthermore, you’re a warlord. That’s what makes this, us , so dangerous,” he could feel tears pricking his eyes, he couldn’t really feel them anyway, what was the point of wiping them away. “I’m tired of this, Croc. We can’t keep doing this.”
The taller man never said anything while Smoker went on a rant, and sobbing by the end of said rant. He pulls out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and starts wiping the marine’s tears away.
“Don’t cry, it ruins your pretty face,” he says, barely higher than a whisper. “Listen, I’ll make you a promise. It’s your choice, honestly. I’ll stay by your side, forever. If you don’t want to continue on with this, I’ll stop. I understand from your standpoint, you’re pretty stressed over us being caught. There’s quite a high bounty on me anyway. Smoker, I truly, truly do love you with all my heart. I can’t stand a day without seeing you, that’s why I travelled to this island. I’ve missed you,” Crocodile confesses, there wasn’t a trace of doubt behind those eyes. Smoker silently chokes back a sob, not willing to act any more vulnerable than he is now.
“So? What do you say? Just say the word, and I’ll do it,” the pirate says quietly in his ear. He could hardly hear Crocodile’s voice, it’s not like he could really think straight as well. All he could muster up was a simple ‘stay’, before closing the distance between the two men, wrapping his arms around Crocodile tightly. He could smell notes of bergamot and amber in the cologne Crocodile used. He didn’t expect a pirate to have such expensive taste, but it suited him. He revelled in it.
He tiredly glanced up at Crocodile, who was silent as ever, but he could see that smug grin. Most likely, he’s going to say something stupid again.
“Hey, remember about that tavern I was talking about-”
“Shut it, will you?” He mumbles while lightly hitting Crocodile on the shoulder.
The damn warlord still had the audacity to laugh at Smoker’s behaviour, calling it ‘childish’, as if insisting on sleeping together wasn’t even more childish.
They do end up at the tavern, though. With Crocodile next to him, sleeping soundly. His face was so peaceful, and Smoker couldn’t help but softly smile.
Maybe it really was luck and fate that brought them together.