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Mihawk had immediately noticed it, because of course he did.
Having lived with Shanks for almost ten years now, it’d be concerning if he didn’t notice it. Not even counting the many years they knew each other as friends or boyfriends before getting married.
But, anyways, yes, Mihawk noticed how often Shanks left their house with the simple excuse of needing to go “do something.”
It was extremely unusual. Shanks, the one who loved going to bed early and waking up late, would stay out way past sunset. Many nights he’d briefly return at a late hour, and Mihawk would expect him to climb into bed and immediately begin snoring, only for Shanks to hastily grab some things along with a lantern before promising to be back before midnight.
To give him credit where it was due, Shanks usually was. Most of the time, Mihawk waited patiently with a book in hand and saw Shanks return at a—somewhat—reasonable hour. But, on those nights when Shanks didn’t, Mihawk kept himself awake through sheer will.
And irritation. His irritation also got him through those nights.
Every time Shanks returned Mihawk would immediately call him out for his lies and ask him what he was even doing. And Shanks would always brush off the question and meekly apologize before promising to be back earlier the next night. And of course, he always was. He was loving and doting despite his tendency to make Mihawk worry.
Truth be told, while Mihawk did know when Shanks’ little “excursions” started—it was a little over two and half months ago, now—he still didn’t actually know what these outings consisted of.
Since Shanks had the tendency to leave late in the afternoon, stay out until the moon came up, and even dared to return sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, one might assume he was cheating. But Mihawk knew better than that.
That’s because in the mornings, every time Shanks somehow woke up before Mihawk, he’d always come up with a sweet and delectable breakfast for them to share before gently waking up Mihawk with sweet kisses on his face and whispered promises of a crisp morning wind. Perfect for them to share a quiet moment eating together as the rest of the island woke up as well.
Or, maybe it was because of the fact that Shanks always helped Mihawk with the large gardens surrounding their quaint house. He definitely wasn’t as knowledgeable as Mihawk was when it came to growing and tending to the many plants he had adopted, but Shanks always listened tentatively when Mihawk made comments on the growing harvest and was eager to help with any hard work. Mihawk wasn’t usually a sentimentalist, but he did find himself enjoying his garden a little more when he had the redhead to help.
But, Mihawk was getting off topic. Shanks was currently out doing “something” again and Mihawk had the house to himself. He looked at the cover of the book he had tried reading tonight, it was a deep, matte green that had faint, yellow stars covering it. He had to close it because he could barely begin a sentence with his mind so occupied by Shanks. Honestly, it was getting embarrassing!
Mihawk turned away from the book and folded his arms as he began pondering what Shanks was doing. It couldn’t have been anything malicious, Shanks really just wasn’t the type. Even back during their pirating days, he was uncharacteristically kind to just about everyone. But if it wasn’t anything bad, then why was he trying so hard to hide it?
Mihawk turned his head and looked out the window. A very deep blue hue was casted over everything. He could barely see his garden and the road leading to the rest of the island. He turned again towards their clock. 11:47. Mihawk bristled, beginning to tap his foot impatiently, though no one was around to hear it.
He tried closing his eyes to relax. Without the stimulation of sight, he found his body to be rather tense. He tried to ease back into his chair and let his muscles relax. Everything was fine, Shanks was fine. He didn’t even know why he was worrying. Shanks was strong enough to protect himself, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself, again, and Shanks would be back soon because he knew Mihawk hated staying up past midnight. He needed his sleep! Everyone did! It was vital for their health.
And sure, Mihawk could go to bed without Shanks but…
But…
Mihawk rested his face in his hand, partially to hide himself. From what? Literally nothing. He just needed to for his next thought.
But he couldn’t fall asleep if Shanks wasn’t by him.
Mihawk sighed at how pathetic he sounded.
It wasn’t from a lack of effort, either! Look, the first time Shanks had stayed out past midnight, Mihawk did try to go to sleep alone. Sue him! Except, on that night, he quickly found himself tossing and turning.
For some reason, no position he took was comfortable on that lonely bed. For some reason, despite having the whole blanket to himself, he had felt extremely cold. For some reason, his pillow just could not support his head in a relaxing way.
His whole body was tense and alert and he had no idea why.
He had only realized why when Shanks finally returned that night. Yes, he was gross and sweaty and Mihawk immediately made him go shower, but he found himself calmer than before. Seeing Shanks in front of him was soothing. His worries about Shanks being hurt weren’t real in the slightest. Shanks was his old cheery self and even lightly poked fun at Mihawk for being so cautious. But, Mihawk didn’t have it in him to mind.
Because when Shanks was finally clean and in light clothes, they went to bed and Mihawk finally realized why he couldn’t sleep earlier.
The perfect position was cuddled next to Shanks, feeling the warmth literally radiate off of him, and resting his head on either Shanks’ chest or right beside the other’s head. And Shanks would wrap his arm around Mihawk’s waist and pull him just a bit closer or bring his hand up to play with Mihawk’s black hair, before sighing happily and finally allowing the two to rest.
Mihawk smiled softly at the thought. It had been embarrassing to realize that first night, but he found himself enjoying going to bed even more now.
…
Mihawk sighed. He felt his face flame at his silly string of thoughts. He was supposed to be theorizing on what Shanks was doing! Not reminiscing about their domestic home life.
(Not that Mihawk disliked any part of it. He just… just… shut up! He was allowed to enjoy it and still be prudish about the whole matter!)
Mihawk tried to get back on track, he really did, but he felt his eyes sliding back towards the clock and… 11:52!? Mihawk felt irritated again. Or was that the worry popping up again? He didn’t know. Or care. Where was his husband?
Mihawk got up from the now stuffy feeling chair. He hated the feeling of being still right now. He walked around their sitting area and finished a lap quickly since it was small. He looked around to see where else he could walk. He walked into their kitchen. He put away a bowl that had been left drying. He left.
It was now 11:53. Mihawk leaned against a wall. He really was just more confused than anything. What in the world could Shanks possibly be doing?
Then, he heard a light knocking at their front door and practically ripped it open.
Shanks stepped inside lightly and his face immediately brightened when he saw Mihawk.
“Mihawk! I missed you, sweetie!” He exclaimed. He also tried to lock Mihawk into a hug, but Mihawk could smell him. So he dodged the outstretched arm to instead close the door.
“You’re late, Red.” Mihawk answered. Shanks winced upon hearing the old epithet before turning to their clock. He sighed lightly before pitifully adding, “At least it isn’t midnight! Right?”
Mihawk simply raised a brow.
Shanks blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Mihawk. Really.” He said softly.
“Are you?” Mihawk scoffed.
“I am! I wasn’t trying to make you wait.” Shanks takes a step forward, trying to grab Mihawk’s hand, but he puts the hand up to silently tell Shanks to stop.
“If you are truly sorry-”
“I really am! Shit! Sorry, continue…” Shanks takes his outstretched hand away to run it through his hair. He looks away in embarrassment.
“-then you’d tell me what you’ve been doing for the past couple of hours.” Mihawk says coolly and Shanks almost deflates.
“I… I can’t Mi!” Shanks pleads, causing Mihawk to groan. Shanks scratches at his scalp and the tiniest of chuckles leaves him. “Look, I’m glad you're breaking now rather than, I don’t know, a week ago. But, I still can’t tell you, sweetie.” Shanks says.
“Don’t use pet names when I’m mad at you, Red.” Mihawk complains.
Shanks lets out a laugh at that—somehow. “C’mon Hawky! You’ll always be my sweetie, no matter what!” Mihawk rolls his eyes.
“Tomorrow.” Shanks decides. “Tomorrow I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing and we’ll go to bed early and you won’t have to be upset over nothing anymore, alright?” Shanks, well, it sounds like he’s asking but it’s just as much a statement as it is a question.
Mihawk sighs and crosses his arms tightly, “It’s not ‘over nothing’, Red.” He looks away, but Mihawk can feel how Shanks stares at him.
“Oh…” Shanks begins, “Aw, Mihawk! I didn’t… were you worried about me?”
Mihawk only spares him a glance.
“That was my bad Mihawk.” He says, his face turning a similar shade to his hair. “I didn’t realize you were actually scared for me.” Shanks continues.
Mihawk now feels his face flush. “I wasn’t scared. I just… didn’t like not knowing where you were.”
Shanks draws close to presumably hug him, but Mihawk quickly stops the advance. “Shower, first.”
Shanks chuckles, “Sorry, Mihawk. You head to bed, I’ll try to be quick.” He promises before walking to their bathroom.
Sighing, Mihawk does head to their bedroom, though not happily since Shanks still won’t be there. But, he did appreciate Shanks trying to be clean for him, so what was there to really complain about?
A lot. Mihawk realizes that when his body hits their empty mattress. He places a blanket on himself lightly and begins to wait.
Luckily, true to his word, Shanks was quite quick with his shower and Mihawk finally feels the bed shift as Shanks gets cozy next to him.
Just as expected, he wraps his arm around Mihawk and brings him nice and close. Mihawk closes his eyes and relaxes when he feels the heat radiating off of Shanks.
“I really am sorry, Mihawk. Especially for brushing you off. I don’t want to make you worry about my secrets anymore.” Mihawk just hums in response. Shanks kisses his forehead softly and Mihawk almost dislikes how sweet it is. Almost.
“Don’t worry, Mi. Tomorrow is something to look forward to. I promise.”
And with that, Mihawk listens to Shanks’ heartbeat and how his breath settles before finally slipping into some well deserved sleep.
>>>—<3—>
Mihawk blinks softly to get the haze of sleep out of his eyes. He turns in his bed to get a look at the sunlight draping itself over everything. He still feels a little sleepy, but he doesn’t mind the feeling. He turns again, back towards Shanks’ side of the bed, reaching an arm out to hopefully cuddle into the other and enjoy another few moments of sleep, when he realizes he’s once again alone.
Mihawk grumbles. He turns away from the emptiness and uses the arm he had stretched out to cover his eyes instead. Mihawk knows Shanks was probably just in their kitchen but he was still a little irritated. A little annoyed. Shanks still hasn’t told him why he’s been out so much!
He should’ve kept asking last night, he concludes. He shouldn’t have let Shanks smooth talk his way through another night.
He sighs at himself. He was growing soft and it really showed. Some sweet words and a pretty smile was all it took to coax him into bed.
He takes his arm off his face and stares at the ceiling, at the way the sun bled into their room. He feels the way his eyelids flutter as sleep tries to consume him once again.
Except, he couldn’t fall back asleep. Because Shanks suddenly appeared in the door to their bedroom.
“Are you awake, my love?” He asks quietly. Mihawk just nods his head which makes Shanks rush over excitedly.
Mihawk’s view is suddenly filled with Shanks’ beaming smile, his red hair falling in little curtains to frame his face.
“Good morning.” He says sweetly.
“Morning.” Is all Mihawk replies with, his voice low from sleep. He stretches in bed before sitting up to be closer to eye level with Shanks. Who keeps watching him for some reason.
“Do you need something?” Mihawk asks, getting up from their bed.
“Nope.” Shanks replies.
Mihawk looks at him curiously, “Then why are you here?”
Shanks smiles sweetly. Too sweetly. “You’ve missed me these past nights, so I thought I’d be here for you all day today!”
Mihawk’s face flames at his observation. He walks away to change out of his pajamas and definitely not to hide from Shanks’ gaze.
“I was worried, Red. Not lonely.” He lies, side-eyeing Shanks.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Just worried.” Shanks chuckles. Mihawk says nothing to that.
“Just humor me, Mi. I made breakfast, by the way! Come join me outside.” Mihawk is about to hum in acknowledgment when he hears Shank walking towards him. He’s about to turn to face the other when he feels a light kiss on his cheek and hears the sound of Shanks quickly leaving.
He feels his face heat before bringing a hand up to his cheek. He rubs at where he feels Shanks’ warmth linger.
He unwillingly feels his face squish into a small smile before shaking himself free of any lingering sentimentality. He was still supposed to be annoyed with Shanks, not once again falling for his charms!
Mihawk resolves that he would only allow himself to stop being angry when Shanks finally tells him what he’s been doing.
He quickly puts on some real clothes before straightening himself up mentally and physically. Leaving both his room and house, Mihawk walks around the garden to find their patio and the table and chairs they have set up.
He also finds Shanks already sitting and stuffing a piece of French toast covered in maple syrup, powdered sugar, and fruits into his mouth. He smiles when he sees Mihawk walking over, waving excitedly instead of greeting him verbally.
Mihawk sits down beside Shanks and cuts into his breakfast—which has appropriately been topped with much less pure sugar and much more of the fruits they’ve grown. He smiles at how Shanks always remembers his flavor preferences before taking a big bite.
Mihawk closes his eyes and sighs at the delicious pastry. The bread is dense and filling but not heavy or overwhelming. He got cut strawberries in his bite and relishes the way the two sweet flavors mix and enhance one another.
Mihawk swallows and opens his eyes to cut himself another bite when he realizes Shanks is looking at him. Mihawk looks back curiously and finds Shanks leaning back in his chair with his face propped up against his hand.
Shanks is just… staring at him.
“What?” Mihawk asks, a slight grumble in his voice as his face heats again.
“Oh, nothing!” Shanks waves him off. “You just looked so cute with your cheeks full. You looked like a hamster.” Shanks chuckles before picking up another piece of his own breakfast.
Mihawk stifles a small sigh before deciding to continue eating his breakfast. Shanks has always had the habit of calling him cute—even if Mihawk did not generally find himself to be cute.
Nevertheless, it was comforting to hear such a familiar compliment from Shanks and Mihawk would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart race. Just a little.
Breakfast is filled with the clattering of utensils and soft murmurs about the latest gossip Shanks heard in town or the craziest ordeals playing out in Mihawk’s books.
It lasts longer than it should. All their breakfasts do. In all honesty, Mihawk has tried to cut their morning chats short before by reminding himself “It’d be wise to get to work now rather than later.” Since “later” was usually after another forty-five minutes.
Yet, every time he would remind himself of that, he seemed to fight tooth and nail to keep sitting with Shanks.
Whenever Mihawk sits at their simple table he just finds himself so engrossed in the moment. Only existing to please Shanks with his stories and to be pleased as Shanks tells his own.
It was stupid and silly, he should’ve been able to leave the conversation whenever he wanted to. Back during his pirate days, he never had this much reverence for idle conversation. Well, almost never. Sometimes he did have a soft spot for Shanks’ ramblings…
Yet, just because he knew it was silly didn’t mean he ever left. His body and mind kept him seated. He felt them want to stay in the moment and cherish the words and ideas that spilled from Shanks’ melodic voice. He felt them grasp at the sweet nectar of connection. He felt them long for just another second of down time with his charismatic lover.
It’s suffocating how much he wants to stay.
It’s freeing knowing he has the time to stay.
Mihawk relaxes as the feeling of peace washes over him.
He feels content as a breeze ruffles his hair and brushes past his ears. He looks over and enjoys seeing Shanks relish in the exact same feeling.
But, that’s when he remembers something.
He’s supposed to be mad at Shanks! He still hasn’t told Mihawk his damn secret!
Mihawk grumbles. He was so caught up in their routine and was so fooled by Shanks’ charms once again that he had also forgotten to question the man!
Luckily, it was now quiet as Shanks took in the scenery. The perfect time for Mihawk to strike.
“So, Shanks,” the man in question turns his head towards Mihawk “don’t you think now would be the perfect time to tell me what you’ve been doing these last months?” He says, smirking lightly.
Mihawk was fully ready to see Shanks’ face twist with nervousness again and he already had a rebuttal prepared for when Shanks would brush off the question; except the response died on his tongue when Shanks’ face brightened considerably.
His eyes shined with excitement and he quickly got up from his chair, brushed himself clean of invisible dirt, ran a hand through his hair, and then offered out his hand for Mihawk to take.
Now thoroughly confused, Mihawk could do nothing but gently lock hands with Shanks as he slowly got up from his seat.
Mihawk feels their hands curl tighter around each other before Shanks starts to lead them away from their house.
Which adds to Mihawk’s irritation.
“Am I correct to assume you still won’t be telling me your secret, Red?” Mihawk asks as they leave their garden for simple open roads.
Shanks chuckles before pulling Mihawk closer to his side. “I just think it’d be better if I showed you rather than told you my secret.” Shanks’ smile only grows wider when he sees Mihawk’s confusion deepen.
“You continue to worry me, Red. I’d prefer it if you just spoke plainly with me.” Mihawk mutters. In response, Shanks stops their walking to then fully turn towards Mihawk. Shanks pulls Mihawk’s hand up to his face to plant a small kiss on his knuckles, before looking into the golden eyes he always sought to make sparkle.
“It’s a gift, Mihawk. A gift for you.” Shanks admits, his voice calm and tender. “It’s just a short walk away and I’m just…” he looks deeper into Mihawk’s eyes and Mihawk can notice his face flushing a slight red. “I’m just really excited to see your reaction. Can you hold on just a little longer?” His voice is soft like a whisper yet Mihawk hears every word. Shanks’ warm, brown eyes lose themselves in his golden ones and Mihawk finds his worries finally disappearing.
Mihawk gives the tiniest of sighs before replying, “Alright, Shanks. I can wait until we get there.” He says in a small tone, looking away for a second. When he looks back Shanks is smiling softly and he continues to guide them towards their destination.
The journey truthfully isn’t that long. The island they live on isn't big enough to be on any major maps or even most minor ones. How Mihawk didn’t discover the surprise himself is beyond him, though there are some careful twists and off path ways. It really shows how much thought Shanks put into hiding this.
He may have been a horrible liar but he was still a former pirate with a few tricks up his sleeve.
Mihawk finally feels Shanks begin to slow down after finding themselves in a cleared out area.
The grass is a bit taller here and is filled with colorful wild flowers and then Shanks abruptly stops. He whips around to face Mihawk with a grin on his face.
“Alright, close your eyes, Hawky!” Shanks’ excitement is extremely visible as he steps closer to Mihawk. Who, as asked, does close his eyes.
Being near the promised surprise yet unable to use his eyesight, Mihawk finds himself more acutely aware of his other senses. Shanks’ hand continues to hold his as Mihawk is guided those last few steps. He notices Shanks’ hands are somewhat rough and exceptionally warm. His ears pick up the gentle whistle of wind and he hears the surrounding foliage begin to sway because of it. His nose twitches as he picks up a faint, sweet scent wafting all around him. It’s a dazzling aroma that Mihawk isn’t able to recognize.
Mihawk is still trying to place the smell when Shanks finally stops him. “Okay, open your eyes!” He says unable to contain his excitement any longer.
Mihawk does open them and immediately finds himself breathless.
An actual rainbow of color surrounds him. The flowers around him are fresh and giant and perfectly show off multitudes of dazzling petals. There’s clusters upon clusters of bushes with luscious, deep green leaves that frame petals of many colors. Dark purples and reds mix together in a beautiful dance that reminds Mihawk of luxurious fabrics draped over models. He takes a tiny step forward and notices the different plants placed next to each other make graceful, elegant gradients. Mihawk looks carefully at which flowers make up the differing shades between the deep wine colored flowers and those of brighter crimsons.
Mihawk takes his time strolling, constantly stopping to admire the many different flower types. He’s just so enchanted by the careful and meticulous placement of each flower. He watches with delight as the reds warm and brighten up into fierce oranges. The section has some peachier colors before it beautifully fades into different yellows and golds that seem to glitter in the light. Continuing on there’s a smaller section of green bushes containing small blossoms with truly green flowers. Mihawk watches as they turn into teals and then light blues with flowers showing off a seemingly infinite number of petals. They finally turn a bit darker once again as the blues deepen into confident purples with many differing shapes. Some begin to droop while others fans themselves out as if to show off.
All the beautiful colors melting together on either side of Mihawk leaves him speechless, especially when he notices a final, smaller patch of flowers just ahead and separated from the rest. They’re placed next to a bench with delightfully intricate engravings.
Mihawk runs up ahead to get a closer look and suddenly finds a tiny amount of tears welling up in his eyes.
He gets down onto his knees to get a closer look at the beautiful roses swaying slightly in the wind. The edges of their petals are tipped with hot pink bursts of colors that transition gorgeously into a pale yellow that finally, a bit deeper into the folds, rests with a divine gold.
Mihawk leans down just a little closer to the blossom, closing his eyes as he inhales the sweet, deep scent.
Mihawk pulls back from the flower to wipe his eyes, at first gently but then a little roughly, before giving up and simply covering his face with his hands. He begins to chuckle—or, well, it’s something adjacent to a chuckle.
Seeing Mihawk moved to such emotions, Shanks’ eyes widen and—worried beyond belief—he immediately drops to his knees next to Mihawk. Shanks reaches his hand out to maybe grab Mihawk’s wrist, before he stops himself; too scared to possibly hurt the man.
Shanks opens his mouth to possibly say something to Mihawk, but he quickly closes it; unsure of what to say.
Shanks, who had been silently watching Mihawk be mesmerized by his work, currently had no idea what to make of the image in front of him. His usually stone-faced husband who was collected, quiet, and unshakeable was now crying (though, Shanks swears he had just heard him giggling) into his hands. And Shanks knew it was all his fault.
He was the one who put these specific roses in the middle of the big flower garden he had made. He was the reason why Mihawk was so upset right now! And that fact just hurts.
His hand reaches out, but he pauses once again. Unsure if he should make for Mihawk’s wrist to pull his hand away from his face, or if he should rub his back to possibly soothe him, or if he should begin begging for forgiveness for having hurt Mihawk so deeply, or if he should do nothing at all.
Except, doing nothing forces Shanks to listen to Mihawk’s sobs—the ones he caused. They’re intense and loud and for some reason Shanks feels like he can hear laughter as well? The giggles are caught between shaking, gasping breaths, before Mihawk then resumes his crying. It’s a horrible, painful sound to listen to and Shanks feels his anxiety, worry, and fear stabbing at him because of it. He feels it lodge itself through his skin, muscle, and bone before it pierces right at his heart, where it hurts him the most. He feels so helpless next to Mihawk, unsure of what to do, unsure of what not to do.
Thankfully, Shanks doesn’t have to wait in agony any longer as he sees Mihawk’s hands fall from his face before the man turns towards him. Shanks can see the multitude of tears running down his face like a waterfall; and, maybe he should feel horrible about overwhelming Mihawk, maybe he should feel horrible for making the man cry.
But, when he sees that dazzling smile that so rarely graces his elegant features being directed at him, Shanks can do nothing but breathe a sigh of relief.
And it’s a good thing he does since Mihawk immediately lunges forward to take Shanks into a tight hug, squeezing him of all his oxygen.
Shanks breaks free of his thoughts to wrap his arm around Mihawk as well. “Are you okay, Mihawk?” Shanks chokes out next to his ear.
Shanks only feels Mihawk giggle and nod his head, still unable to stop crying. Mihawk finally pulls back and Shanks immediately brings his hand up to wipe away the tears framing Mihawk’s cheeks.
“What happened, Mi? Did I do something wrong? Are you sure you’re okay?” Shanks immediately asks, worry still pouring out of him even as he’s face to face with Mihawk’s small, embarrassed smile.
“Yes, Shanks. I think I’m fine now.” Is all he says. All he can say. He’s out of breath from all the emotions he just felt.
“But, then, why’d you start crying?” Shanks probes. Mihawk finds Shanks’ furrowed eyebrows and serious face to look so cute in this lighting as he sits next to one of the greatest gifts he’s ever received.
“You remembered! How long has it been? Since we first met?” Mihawk asks, bringing up his wrist to blot some tears away with his shirt.
“Uh… like around thirty years? Give or take.” Shanks comments. He finds himself still worrying over Mihawk’s safety and takes one of his hands to hold. “What exactly did I remember?” Shanks asks sheepishly.
That draws another chuckle out of Mihawk and Shanks feels his face flame in embarrassment.
“After one of the very first times we dueled, you forced me to hang out with you at some dingy old bar. You said ‘Rivals have to know each other in order to beat each other!’ and began asking me questions about everything. You asked about my hobbies, favorite foods, any stories I had, and you just kept going! I immediately realized that it had nothing to do with fighting and you just wanted to hang out with someone who wasn’t your crew, and I distinctly remember thinking it was a waste of time, but I still stayed there that entire night. Listening to your questions, asking you about your own experiences. It was the first time in a long time that I had such a fun conversation with someone.” Mihawk takes a deep, shaky breath in and out before continuing. “And at one point, you asked if I had a favorite flower because I had them embroidered on my jacket and I told you: roses. Specifically, Enchanted Peace roses. And you looked at me with so much wonder at the name and told me you didn’t even know roses could have specific names and you wrote it down on your arm to remember and…” Mihawk laughs out something small. “And now you're randomly surprising me with those exact roses in a beautiful garden!”
Shanks’ eyes light up with faint recognition of one such night. He remembers being young and convincing an exhausted Mihawk to join him at a bar, letting the alcohol and his extroversion work his way into a companionship. He had little recollection of asking the question but can clearly remember the morning after. He had seen the writing on his arm and, for some reason, his brain just automatically lit up with the fact of “Oh, right, that’s Mihawk’s favorite flower.”
So that was why he always knew Mihawk’s favorite flower. He had never realized this was how he got his info.
Shanks chuckles as well. Any lingering tension in his face finally relaxes as he accepts that Mihawk is in fact okay. He was so glad to see that and enjoyed recalling such a silly moment from their early friendship. There was just one thing he needed to clear up.
“It’s technically not random though, Mi.” Mihawk looks at Shanks in confusion before rubbing more of his lingering tears away.
“It isn’t?” He asks.
“Nope! It was supposed to be a gift for our tenth anniversary but… I got done pretty quickly in all my excitement.” Shanks sighs light heartedly. “I didn’t want the flowers to possibly wilt, though, and you were starting to worry so…” Shanks waves his arm around at all the flowers surrounding them.
“Happy almost ten years, Mihawk.” Shanks says sweetly, a wide smile on his face.
Mihawk feels his face burn before leaning forward to grasp Shanks in another hug. Mostly to hide his face, but Shanks doesn’t need to know that. Anyways, he delights in the feel of Shanks’ arm gently holding him.
“Am I forgiven for leaving you alone all those nights, Mi?” Shanks whispers against his ear.
“Possibly.” Is all he says before holding on tighter.
Shanks huffs out a small laugh. “I’ll take what I can get.”
Mihawk lets go of Shanks to admire the flowers again. He reaches out a hand towards one and delicately wraps his fingertips around a single petal. He rubs at the soft, velvety feeling.
“It’s all just absolutely beautiful, Shanks.” Mihawk comments softly and Shanks would agree. He spent so much time on it, remembering all the lessons Mihawk had taught him about taking care of plants and flowers and how to place them artistically against each other. He spent a long time getting materials, planning everything out, and building the bench that he thought they were gonna sit on—before he accidentally broke Mihawk. And if Shanks could look at his work now he knew he would be proud. But the only thing his eyes could focus on was the man in front of him.
His sharp features, his gentle expression, the wrinkles around his smile that indicate that it’s finally a common occurrence, the thick, wavy, black hair that floats around like a gorgeous frame for the perfect picture that is his face, those enchanting, golden eyes that just melt as they focus on the flowers. Yeah, Shanks would have to agree. Mihawk’s just absolutely beautiful.
He’s about to tell him that when Mihawk points something out.
“Are these Toad Lilies?” Mihawk asks and Shanks looks over at the flower he notices. It has much less petals than a rose and is a bright white with many little purple dots absolutely covering it.
“Oh, yeah they are! I thought it’d be cute to have our favorite flowers right next to each other.” Shanks explains with a smile. Paired right next to each other, they look extremely different and possibly a little awkward; but, that’s the same image Mihawk and Shanks give off when together. What mattered most was that they knew how well they complimented each other.
“They’re perfect.” Mihawk says. He turns back to Shanks. “It’s all perfect. Thank you, Shanks.” Shanks can see the way his golden eyes waver nervously all around his face, unable to look at one thing in specific, before resting on his own warm, brown eyes. “Really, these years together with you, every moment in your presence, it’s just…” Mihawk closes his eyes to take in a shaky breath before meeting Shanks’ gaze once more. “It’s just been so worth it. This relationship with you is the most valuable thing I own. You make life so much easier to bear.” Mihawk admits, some fresh droplets make his golden eyes shine once again.
And Shanks just can’t seem to tear himself away from those eyes, so full of admiration and love; especially when he feels his own eyes beginning to water. He isn’t entirely sure how he won the heart and soul of such a magnificent man but he knows he’ll treasure Mihawk for the many years ahead.
“That’s all I want, Mihawk. Just the knowledge that you're doing well with me by your side.” Shanks whispers reverently. Leaning and turning his head forward to gently brush against those soft, smart lips that belong to his beautiful husband.
And Mihawk lets himself be captured. Lets himself be kissed breathless by Shanks. Lets himself be warmed up in such a tender manner next to the most thoughtful gift he’s ever received.
He can only hope his plan of taking Shanks sailing once again to the beautiful island of Berafior, known for its resorts and breathtaking landscapes, will somehow live up to all the precious moments Shanks has brought him.