#kechirase

[akagamiko]

@kechirase // CROCODILE said: loops an arm around shanks’ waist, lifting him so that their foreheads bump together. he doesn’t say much, but the upward quirk of his lips speaks volumes. “ aren’t you going to show me just how much you missed me? a pity. ” 

His eyes widen once he’s lifted into the air.

The smile that he spies on Crocodile, however faint, makes him grin–big enough for the both of them, certainly. Eyes shut, and Shanks leans forward until his forehead rests against the larger man’s and wraps his arm around his neck.

Shanks’ expression eases at the words and he couldn’t help but chuckle. The door behind them had barely clicked shut when he had been hoisted into the air. Who was it that had missed who, exactly? He thought it had become routine for them; when they’d come to visit one another’s ships to head to their cabins or quarters–anywhere really, that offered them the privacy to catch up through words and actions. Definitely both, though the order was apt to change depending on what had happened during their time apart.

He loved this side of this man. What a privilege to see it. And what an even bigger one to be on the receiving end.

Shanks lifts his head from its resting place, eyebrows raising in question. “Now where’s the fun in that? You know how I love to build up the anticipation.” He raises a hand to rest his palm against Crocodile’s face and runs his thumb along the scar that crossed his face. “Would you rather I undressed you and started sucking you off in front of our crews? If so, I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Just thought you enjoyed your privacy.”

He leans close again and presses a soft kiss into the bridge of his nose, between his eyes before he continues. “Hel, if you really want, we can go above deck and make a big show of it right now. Bet that’ll clear ‘em out real quick.”

[akagamiko]

@kechirase // CROC said:

from behind, he wraps an arm around shanks' waist, pulling him if ever so lightly. rests his chin on the top of shanks' head. groans.

Waking in the middle of the night hadn’t been uncommon over the last few years. Shanks did his best to fall asleep again--he shuts his eyes presses closer to the man he was sharing a bed with (a bed that had gotten increasingly larger over the years to better accommodate the two of them), but after tossing and turning, he finally gives up and stalks across his cabin to stand at the desk.

He strikes matches and pushes the candles to the far corner in hopes of blocking out the flickering light with his body and leaving Crocodile as undisturbed as possible. It doesn’t take long before maps lay out before him, unrolled and held in place by seaglass. Shanks was an experienced sailor, a man who had spent more years on the sea than off of it. Log pose or no, he could feel which direction his ship was moving in his bones.

Fingers graze lazily across pages, following Blackbeard’s movements and rereading hastily scribbled notes and writing new ones; his brow is pinched together in its usual manner. He’s not sure how much time has passed or how long he’d been standing there, burning candles when the sun begins to shine through the nearby porthole.

Shanks is so lost in thought, gaze glued to the pages, that he hadn’t even heard Croc wake or approach him. The familiar presence envelops him and pulls him free from the haze he’s lost in and Shanks can’t help but relax against the body behind him. He sighs then breathes in the familiar scent of his lover, and chuckles when the larger man’s chin comes down to rest on his head. From the corner of his good eye, Shanks spies a few stray, dark hairs fall into his line of sight, and he lifts his hand to tangle into the man’s locks.

The groan the move earns him only makes his smile grow. “If you’re trying to get me to come back to bed you should use your words.” Fingers massage the man’s scalp and Shanks leans further into the man’s body, nuzzling his head against Croc’s chin.

[senkaimon]

          Was the former Primera coming or going from the remnants of Ulquiorra’s tower?  Sova could never quite tell.  It seemed the two of them interacting was gradually becoming perpetual as they had observed as of late.  Which was not their business but it was the faintest bit curious.  Sova had always imagined the former Cuatro was incapable of...  whatever it was that brought Coyote Starrk here.  

          There was one thing however that had caught their attention properly,  the absence of a presence at the others side.  So Sova asks unprompted as he steps to move past them in the hall,  repercussions aside.  “Where is Lilynette?”  @kechirase​

[fornicaras]

❝ there's something tragic about you. ❞

the octava espada’s arrogant smile faltered, if only for a moment. the mask cracked, if only a bit— enough to reflect what lay behind it.

—tragic? there was nothing tragic about him.  

he sought the safety of denial, as he often did. even summoned forth that false confidence of his, and raised a hand to brush back his hair. he attempts to wrestle back some semblance of control over himself. the statement cut deeper than szayel cared to admit.

 “ tragic? –now, i’ve heard a lot of words thrown at me behind my back. but this is the first time i hear that one.” 

his voice comes out strong, confident, but the shaking of his hands tells an entirely different story. 

“ tell me, then. what makes you think that? what is so tragic about me?”