[It says something about where they've gotten that Koby doesn't feel the need to hide his bossy, indignant side from Mihawk out of some fear of losing him over it. He knows deep and firm that something so petty would never occur to Mihawk, that he finds that part of Koby charming -- appealing, even. It's more than a little telling, that the boy feels safe enough to huff and scowl and talk back to Mihawk, too.
Even now, at that gentle tug to his hair, Koby's reaction is a sound partway between annoyance and purring, cheeks turning as pink as the sealskin.] You need to rest and I'm not going anywhere, but I'm also not getting into bed with you all dirty. So.
[The bathroom is nice, nicer than any Koby's ever seen -- the marines are very utilitarian, and while Alvida had an ostentatious powder room, he was never allowed inside it. Mihawk's is just the level of extra Koby had imagined -- candles and clawfoot and sweet, musky soaps. It makes him smile a little, secret and fond, that he'd assumed correctly about the man's tastes.
Then, all business, starting to unbuckle the overalls:] Good idea. It'll take more scrubbing to get all that blood out of your, um. Fur. But I can do that once we're in.
[A pause, face slowly going redder because he'd also assumed they'd bathe together.] If that's...I mean, I can still help with all my clothes on, if you prefer. [As if there's any situation where Mihawk prefers him dressed as opposed to naked.]
(It was more than appealing. It was arguably one of his favorite parts about Koby. The new noise of - was that purring? - only makes it infinitely better. It's just on the tip of his tongue to say that they didn't need a bed for that, but he really would get distracted by Koby if they didn't go now.
Such is the life he leads.
Mihawk was steadily working on the aesthetics of his home. He was hoping to invest in a lot of black paint and dramatic flourishings, but the bathroom was one of the main reasons he picked this cottage.
He steps into the tub, grimacing as the water begins to muddy as it goes down the drain.)
Of course. (Absently, as he sits on the edge of the tub and begins to scrub hard at his legs to get the worst of it all off.
His eyes flicker to Koby when there is that telling pause and oh...Mihawk sits up a bit straighter, head tipped.)
Koby, do you honestly ever think there is a moment in our relationship where I prefer you clothed? (Be so for real!! But...He glances appreciatively at the overalls again.) Though you do look nice in those.
(Very Cute. Cute isn't a word Mihawk uses though, so, you know. He gets back to work on rubbing himself down. Though he pauses. He's used to bathing himself and just doing it all himself. His eyes move over to Koby and he hesitates.)
Did you want to...? (Do...it all...how does one ask this? He could clean himself just fine, but...Also...Koby did want to help. Did that mean-.
Mihawk stares blankly at him. Pls help Koby no one has ever actually helped him like this before he has no clue what he's doing.)
[The compliment on the clothes is -- unexpected? But also very much hoped for, considering that Koby not-so-secretly hoped that Mihawk would appreciate the new fashionable leaf he's turned over. The pleased, flattered look on his face is completely unsubtle, even as he busies himself with carefully pulling the sealskin off his shoulders and settling it on the nearest flat surface -- within reach, safe, able to be watched.] Thank you. Nami gave me a bunch of things. [Koby, we know. You'd never have been able to put together something that cute by yourself.
Speaking of cute -- Mihawk would probably be extremely indignant that such a word is being thought about him, but that blank look is exactly that. He's so clearly out of his depth, this massive, deadly warlord-turned-apex-predator, unable to find the words to even ask for help, much less conceptualize how it'd be given. It's both adorable and incredibly sad. When was the last time someone looked at Mihawk and wanted to help him -- not because he needs it, or because he's incapable, but because they cared? Because they wanted to?
Koby's smile is a warm, affectionate thing, because as we know, helping people is his thing. He pushes the straps of the overalls off his shoulders, tugging his shirt off so it doesn't get splashed. The witch's scar is gone, replaced with a swirling, delicate mark down the center of Koby's chest.] You get in first, all the way. I'll join once you're rinsed, okay? [But he'll pull up a chair at the far end of the tub from the faucet, gesturing commandingly.] Face away, I'll get your back and your hair. [Bossy Koby is here to stay, apparently. There's no more of the siren command, but he's not afraid to dip into it, if he needs to.]
(The compliment is worth giving. It's always worth giving to Koby. Not that he would ever falsely fluff Koby's ego. Even with how much he cared about Koby, he only gave him sincere compliments or none at all. It wasn't his fault Koby was so effortlessly attractive.)
Did she now? Good. (He would have to...not thank her later, but get her something for her efforts. Especially after asking her to help Koby with the clothing situation.
There was definitely never a time when any of that ever happened. Mihawk had always been a lone wolf sort, now more literally than ever before. It wasn't even a sense of humiliation needing help. He just was unfamiliar with it. He had always taken care of himself and moved through the world on his own merit. His entire reputation was solely because he earned it alone. No mentors. No friends. No crew. No one.
Just him.
And up until very recently, he preferred it that way. He liked to think he still preferred it that way, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't grown attached to Koby. And the others.
When Koby smiles at him, his ears flick down and his tail begins to twitch traitorously. This time he notices and thinks about how to stop it. He winds up just grabbing it and sliding into the tub, not bothering to acknowledge that annoying new feature. He decides his best bet here is to not look too long at Koby. Except that literally never works, and as he settles in the water, his gaze is drawn back to his lover.)
I like these marks much better. (He opens the palm of his dominant hand to show Koby where his own had moved. He blinks at the command and hesitates. It's the first time he doesn't instantly move to follow a command from Koby.
There's something nearly deadly and contemplative in the look he gives him and it's entirely reactive. It was a strange gesture on his part, admittedly, but he rarely turned his back willingly on anyone for longer than he was comfortable with. Even at bars, he preferred his seats in the corner and tucked away. He liked to see everything at all times.
No one had ever seen his bare back, really. Even whenever they have slept together, he has faced Koby, been on top of Koby, or beneath him looking up. After all, a scar on a swordsman's back was the greatest shame. He's settled back against the tub, looking every bit as regal, even streaked in mud and dirt, and for a brief second, he almost says no. A matter of ego and some ridiculous swordsman's code or something.
But it's Koby. Koby who was trying to prove himself to Mihawk, who fit perfectly against his body and who was always vulnerable for Mihawk. There were many instances where he cared to give Koby the ability to control the situation, to say yes or no. Right then, it was Mihawk's option to say yes or no, and he could say no, could push back against a command --
His body slowly relaxes and he sighs.)
Very well.
(Slowly, he moves away, turning his back to Koby, even if it feels unnatural and stupid. He pushes that instinct down and rolls his shoulders. His back is as flawless as the rest of him, not a scar anywhere, though Koby will come to find a few beauty marks scattered about beneath the mess. Exposing his back and neck like this - well. Some might call him an idiot with how many enemies he had lined up, and how many marines he had killed.
It might be the biggest gesture of trust Mihawk has shown Koby thus far.)
[Oh, that tail. Even matted with blood and grime, Koby still has the irresistible urge to reach out and stroke his fingers through the fur, help fluff it back up to whatever majestically plush state it's meant to be. Mihawk is a fastidious man after all, it only makes sense that his newfound features be kept in impeccable condition like the rest of him.
For a moment, Koby's too busy grabbing the soap and a cloth from a stack set nearby to notice Mihawk's pause. But when he does, it clicks -- oh. Right. Swordsman. That might not be anywhere near Koby's personal area of expertise, but he's known enough swordsmen in his life to be aware that turning your back on anyone is a dangerous move. Helmeppo never shut up about it, actually, which always prompted Koby to flatly remind him that he hadn't seen Zoro in his room until it was too late.
But Mihawk hasn't become the world's greatest swordsman by being careless. Koby's noticed his caution in every situation, the way those sharp, bright eyes take in every detail, noting potential structural weaknesses and escape routes. That had been part of the reason seeing the cabin door left wide open had been so terrifying, because normally Mihawk would never.
He's more himself now, though, in control and calm and calculating. Koby's used to him that way, used to getting only as much of Mihawk as the warlord is inclined to give. Part of why this, they work is because they've been careful to only expect what the other has promised already. No demands. No excessive requests. But now, thoughtlessly, Koby's asked for a show of trust that's completely unprecedented, even for a man he's seen thoroughly undressed more times than he can count.
There's already an apology forming, Koby half-rising to move around to the side of the tub instead, when Mihawk suddenly moves, settling in the water with his back to the far end of the tub. The act is quiet, without any sort of fanfare or acknowledgement of just how much it means. But it freezes Koby in his tracks, breath catching in his throat, because he knows. He knows.
It's several moments before he can move, can do anything except stare at the smooth, unmarked expanse of Mihawk's back, the line of his spine, the muscles coated in grime. Then Koby's swallowing hard against a sudden aching thickness in his throat, eyes very bright, emotion crashing through him like a wave as he settles back in his chair.] Okay. [It's very soft, followed by one hand slowly coming out to touch the back of Mihawk's shoulder, brushing away the dirt. A shaky inhale, then Koby's leaning forward, pressing his lips to the spot, not caring if Mihawk isn't perfectly clean yet. Softly, against his skin:] Thank you.
(It's not submission in the slightest. If anything, Mihawk was more prepared than ever to swiftly assert his control back over the situation at the single notion that something was wrong. Not even necessarily with Koby, but should anything nefarious follow them into their private little bubble in this new world. It wasn't impossible, he knew, not with what has already happened here.
What it is though is trust. Something deeper too. A gesture of...That. He knew Koby wasn't a stupid boy. Far from it. He was too compassionate for his own good and wickedly observant. He knew that Koby would know what it meant. Even in the slightest way possible. He can feel the weight of that silence and has to resist the urge to whip back around and see what look was on Koby's face, to look.
He resists that urge and decides that if he is going to do this then he is going to commit to it. The soft voice and touch make Mihawk relax, his head tipping back ever so slightly. He closes his own eyes and something settles in him.
He reaches his hand back, just so that he could slide his fingers over Koby's neck, against the hair at the back of his neck.)
Only for you. (He murmurs back, just as quietly, nearly lost beneath the rushing water, but not quite. He gently squeezes the back of Koby's neck. Three times. Pulsing squeezes. He lingers just a moment before he slides his hand away and back to his lap. Something better than pride was pushing its way through him, something that made turning his back feel infinitely worth it.
If Koby could trust him with his essence, the new seal skin he had come by, then Mihawk could trust him with this too. Always.)
[It's almost a good thing that the bathroom's steadily filling up with steam, because it hides the way that Koby's tearing up, his hair-trigger emotions veering right into weepiness, per usual. He swallows hard, keeping his eyes closed for a moment, trying not to read too much into the hand at the back of his neck, the three squeezes, the amount of words he could assign to that number. Koby's known for a while what his feelings are, deep down -- since that first night Mihawk stayed with him after sex, since he fell asleep in the warlord's arms. Those emotions have just grown more and more impossible to ignore over the days since.
But this is the first time he thinks -- he lets himself think that it might be reciprocated. That Mihawk might feel the same. That this isn't just a pleasant diversion or a way to spend the time, but that Mihawk might --
love him back.
Koby squeezes his eyes shut tighter, forcing the thoughts, that word back as hard as he can. They don't have time for this, not in a world as dangerous as this. Stay in the moment, focus on the task, move his hands so his mind doesn't have time to spiral. He can think about this later, when he's alone, when he can lose himself in the what-ifs.
Straightening back up, Koby huffs out a steadying sigh, grabbing for the soap again and starting to wet, then lather up Mihawk's grimy back.] It looks like you rolled around in the mud. Do you really not remember? [There we go, when in doubt, gently mock.]
(If they were facing one another if he could see how Koby looked right now, it would be game over. It was already over, but it caution would be thrown to the wind. He somehow knew Koby was tearing up - whether it was because he could smell the salt of his tears or because he just knew him. He knew what was between them. He knew what this was. He didn't know how to say it to himself or to Koby, but in the meantime, he could make it clear.
He smiles to himself as Koby gets himself composed. It's a private fondness, something he will keep to himself just as Koby keeps his tears to himself in the moment.)
It was a bit of a blur, I'll be honest. I have new senses. The feeling of being in the body was different too. I was rather large.
(That he did remember. He remembered pushing down trees.)
I felt...Strongly.
(He isn't going to say he went insane but he went a little insane! Werewolf life be like that sometimes. He begins to scrub himself down in the front. Feeling Koby was his back was as soothing as it was strange, but it began to feel...better.)
[To be fair, assuming Koby's in tears is the right assumption a good 90% of the time. It tends to be his first reaction to most any intense emotion.
But there's no time to cry -- he process of washing Mihawk's back is much more compelling at the moment. Koby's always appreciated the other man's body (both to himself and in practice), but there's something intensely appealing about seeing the muscles he's only ever seen briefly or beneath clothes. And when they're all soapy and wet and warm beneath his hands -- well. It's plenty to keep him occupied.
Plus the incessant need to know everything is piqued by Mihawk's description of his transformation. Koby perks up, already trying to commit everything to memory. He might actually stop mid-bath to write everything down. Nerd.] New senses? Like what? Were you entirely wolf-shaped or more humanoid? I guess you probably couldn't tell, if you were busy, uh, feeling strongly.
[Then Koby huffs out a laugh, reluctantly rinsing off the soap and absently tracing from one beauty mark to another, like a private constellation just for him.] Even you're allowed to lose control sometimes. It's not some...failure of resolve, or whatever dramatic thing you're thinking.
(It was amazing how there were still parts of each other they hadn't been able to properly appreciate yet with how much time they spent in bed together. Mihawk is grateful to be getting himself clean up front although he is glaring with some distaste at the abundance of fur. He preferred his body hair to be as neatly trimmed and refined as what was on his face.)
Smells are far different. It's difficult to explain. They feel deeper and more complex. I can see easily in the dark. Hm. I could easily go from all fours to being on my hind legs. I remember grabbing things with my - hands.
(Claws, more like, or paws? Either way. They had the usual dexterity he was used to.
When Koby laughs at him and has the audacity to say all that...! Mihawk flicks his tail to splash Koby with a good amount of water.)
[Granted, it's sort of a one-way street -- Mihawk's had his mouth or hands on basically every part of Koby possible at this point. But still, there are apparently a lot of different ways to engage with said parts, because every time they're together, Mihawk still manages to make it devastatingly, wonderfully new.
The descriptions get a thoughtful nod as Koby starts carefully finger-combing the matted mix of fur at the nape of Mihawk's neck, gently coaxing the suds on his hands through the dried blood and grime.] In between, then. That's somewhat useful, still being able to use your hands. I was just a regular seal, I think. [Sleek and quick and strangely graceful in the water, comically awkward on land.
And then Mihawk is splashing him, the absolute nerve! Koby gasps indignantly, jerking back to late to keep his face and front from getting wet.] H-Hey! [Sputtering, sitting back to snatch his shirt and use it to wipe his glasses dry:] That is the biggest lie you've ever told me. You have black walls and candles everywhere.
[Slightly dried off, Koby goes back to washing Mihawk's hair, perhaps a bit rougher than before, as punishment. Even though he probably likes having his hair pulled.] Then it's good the only time it's happened, you weren't around anyone, right? Now you can prepare for next time.
(Oh that felt good. Mihawk's eyes squint shut as Koby's fingers dig in and he winds up leaning into it.)
We'll have to show each other if we can. (He didn't think he could change on command just yet - which was lowkey infuriating beyond belief. But he would like to see Koby as a seal. Especially a pink one.
One of his short, rare laughs snaps out of him at Koby's reaction to being splashed. He did so love playing with Koby like this, pulling on his pigtails right back.)
Black is an elegant color. Hardly dramatic. (He has refined taste, thank you very much. He's so smug even as Koby is a bit rougher with his hair. He likes it a bit rough so jokes on you.)
That feels lovely. (Just for added spite :D)
Just Shanks. (Who was probably fine. They've had way worse fights.)
I suppose. I should make you do some research for me on the subject.
Edited (i forgot a whole word lmao ok AND html tf) 2023-12-03 00:13 (UTC)
That might actually...be nice. I feel a little, um. Dehydrated, maybe? [Which is odd -- Koby is usually very conscientious about avoiding things like that. He knows so much about all the ways you can die at sea, and dehydration is right up there with scurvy. Maybe it's more that it's been a few hours since he was a seal, and that feels...bad.
Then Koby rolls his eyes, digging in his blunt nails against Mihawk's scalp.] You say elegant, I say dramatic. I like blue. Or white. [Like a marine uniform. Nerd.
Right, Shanks. Koby makes a mental note to follow up on that later. Mihawk didn't seem too bothered, so violence was apparently the norm for them -- not that he has room to talk, considering he'd decked Helmeppo the day they met.]
I like research, so there's no "making" about it. There have to be books about it, or people in town who've had similar changes, right? Maybe I should check in with the Straw Hats...
Interesting. (It made sense though if this was now part of Koby.) There is a creek nearby. It should be deep enough to swim in. I wonder if you'll feel better after a soak.
(Or if it had to be wild waters.
He can't seem to stop smirking. The wolf thing really was making him lose some decent control. That or he just was doing it because he knew Koby had no way of seeing it though it was certainly evident in his voice.
Violence was all too common in their world, truly.)
Most likely.
(...That probably was a good idea.)
I'll check in with Zoro. Do make sure the idiot cook is in one piece. (...) And Nami.
(He was starting to feel more himself. He turned around, finally facing Koby once again. He reached a hand up, cupping his hand against the side of his face.)
I'll check. Maybe the bath will be enough? [So many things to research, so much to still figure out. It's -- actually sort of exciting, having something as (seemingly) benign as seal transformation powers to investigate. Koby's deliberately not thinking too hard about how the skin on the counter beside him has a direct link to his life, because that'll dampen his excitement.
Then he nods, already planning to go over in person to check -- he needs to make sure everyone's safe with his own eyes. A pause, then, because Mihawk doesn't know, and Koby adds lightly:] And Luffy. He's here now. [There's an undeniably warm note in his voice, one that he can't quite hide.
Tilting his head into Mihawk's hand, Koby smiles fondly, glasses slipping down his nose.] I think so. You sound impatient.
(Mihawk was moving close to Koby when he informed him of Luffy's arrival. That brings Mihawk to a halt, his hand stilling. He stares calmly at Koby, his expression effortlessly neutral. It's a simple oh that cuts through him and his hand slides off of Koby's face.)
I'm sure you're all bursting with joy. (It's his usual drawl of sarcasm, nothing out of the ordinary. He shifted to finally plug the tub and let it begin filling up with water properly.)
Hardly. It's simply a waste of warm water.
(He moves around to sit at the end of the tub without the facet, sinking down as the tub begins to fill. He props his arms up along the edges of the tub, looking at Koby and just memorizing him in detail. It won't be long then. Death had been one thing. Even in his hurt, he understood why Koby abandoned him for his cause. He couldn't entirely fault Koby for that - and he understood now too that Koby's dreams had changed to accommodate an actual life outside of being everyone's favorite little hero.
This was far different. It is one thing to remember someone, but to have them near, breathing and able to flourish with you...Well. Mihawk wasn't a stupid man.
Thankfully, he was controlled. Even now. The stakes were high and so even his ears are controlled. It's fine. This is fine. He nods to his lap, ignoring the sour plunging ache at the back of his throat.)
[Koby is usually much more perceptive, more observant, but Mihawk's careful neutrality works efficiently this time -- partially because Koby's distracted by rinsing out the cloth and moving the chair back where it was.] His crew's definitely relieved. I think it'll make things a little better, for them.
[Then, unbuttoning the sides of the overalls, unaware of Mihawk's inner turmoil:] And I'll talk to him, about what's been happening. It'll be fine. [It's reassuring to a worry that Mihawk isn't actually having -- that Luffy might be upset about the whole Zoro near-death-experience thing. Koby is completely confident in his ability to maintain the situation, to ensure harmony across the board. Seeing Luffy again had soothed something deep in his soul, but he wants the pirate to know everything. More than anyone else, Luffy is his friend. The person he'd changed so much for.
If Luffy disapproves, if he tells Koby he should stop seeing Mihawk, though...well. It'll hurt, but Koby's already made his mind up. He'll just have to talk Luffy into why it's a good idea and actually everyone's wrong about Mihawk. No big deal.
Completely unaware that actually verbalizing all this might be a good idea, Koby stands up to push off the rest of his clothes. And while Mihawk might be currently occupied with dark thoughts, there's no way he'll miss the fact that either Nami went above and beyond or Koby took some fashion initiative of his own -- because the underwear he has on is definitely brand new.
Ears red, Koby pauses long enough to make sure Mihawk sees. Compliment him, damn it.]
No doubt. (Mihawk didn't want Koby to feel as though he couldn't talk about Luffy. He didn't want to force him, not even his heart, to find its way to him.)
As I'm sure it will for you too.
(Because anyone would be stupid to ignore the way Koby has spoken about Luffy before. The boy lit up and became this warm, hopeful creature. Begrudgingly, Mihawk has to appreciate Luffy for that alone. Koby deserved to look like that all the time, and some part of Mihawk thinks that if he has to let Koby go, he is at least grateful to let him go to someone who is so capable.
He blinks slowly. The affair. Right. It made enough sense. Everyone else knew, after all. It was only a matter of time before Luffy did too. Mihawk wasn't even thinking about the Zoro situation. Mostly because it is what it is and he had been indifferent about the straw hats' different hostilities toward him over the situation. He watches Koby carefully and takes his obliviousness to mean that Koby doesn't even realize how he sounds when talking about Luffy.
Really would be only a matter of time then. He slides a hand through his dense fur, slicking it back from his face.)
You don't have to go through the effort. I don't care what he thinks about me. (Which comes out a bit harder than he intends, and he's being honest. If Luffy thought he was some heartless sadist, then so be it. He wasn't completely off base.
Plus the idea of Koby telling Luffy about them...He wondered what Luffy's reaction would be and if Luffy would try to convince Koby to leave him. Or if he would be more like Sanji and tell him that Mihawk was a bastard who would never care about him. Mihawk couldn't exactly imagine the latter happening with how positive Luffy seemed to be, but the rest...Who knew?
He figured if anyone could talk any sense into Koby, it was Luffy. He sighs, sinking down in the tub, and props his neck against the edge, staring sullenly up at the ceiling. The sound of pants dropping draws his attention. He rolls his head forward and ah- well.
Oh, how he is going to miss this.)
Look at you. (Even with the pit in his stomach, it's impossible for him to not react.)
[There's a bit of proud, embarrassed preening at the compliment, another of those strangely animal purring sounds that Koby seems unaware he's making. Compliment received, he sheds the (mildly embarrassing but definitely a good investment) underwear and steps into the tub. The water is warm, soothing, and Koby settles happily in Mihawk's lap -- facing him, because there's more bathing to do, okay, and he takes this task very seriously.]
He doesn't have his powers here -- the devil fruit ones. I think it's been hard on him. [There's a definite fretful note in Koby's voice as he grabs the soap again, starts coaxing the dry blood out of Mihawk's fur. He won't admit it outright, but he likes the silky, dark trail that leads down Mihawk's stomach, likes sliding his fingers through the thick mess, likes how wild it makes Mihawk look. Koby himself has staunchly avoided shaving for years, but...well, all his hair is pink. Sort of hard to see, even if it's all over his legs or stomach or arms.
The careless response gets a momentary frown, and Koby's bright, serious eyes catching Mihawk's newly canine ones.] I care. You're important to me. [Then, sitting up and pushing his glasses on top of his head, holding back his hair:] If you'd rather I didn't tell him, I won't.
[It comes out very flat for someone who, less than a month ago, was ready to pretend he didn't even know Mihawk, much less intimately. Koby is surprised at his own reluctance to be some sort of dirty secret. Still, if it's what Mihawk wants, he'll respect that. Begrudgingly.]
(It's a sweet sound and almost distracting enough from the conversation at hand. Were he in a slightly better mood, he probably would have done far more than verbally compliment Koby on the underwear. Though later on, he was bound to bring it up.
With Koby so near and facing him, Mihawk knew he had to school himself even stricter. Koby was perceptive though thankfully right now, he seemed oblivious and Mihawk had no problem taking advantage of that either. He would rather not make a big deal out of the inevitable truths here.)
Hmm. (A disinterested noise, but then...) Nor do I. He will live. In any case, he has plenty of support regardless.
(There was no choice really but to accept it and move on. Deal with the hand one was given in this weird place. Just like Mihawk planned to master this werewolf business as he had swords before.
He raises a brow at Koby, noting the flat tone. No, he had no interest in keeping this a dirty secret either. Nor did he want Koby to think that was what he meant. He slides his hands over his waist and squeezes.)
I didn't mean it like that. I only meant that Luffy already knows who I am. I'm sure he will form his own conclusions about...this situation. Don't feel you owe anyone any sort of explanation for your own choices, Koby.
(Another squeeze and he kisses the corner of Koby's mouth, hoping to assure the man that it had nothing to do with wanting to keep their relationship private. He eases back from Koby, settling back against the tub.)
...you had powers, before? [It's genuinely surprised -- Koby had always figured it was just pure determination and really good swordsman skills that made Mihawk the best. Granted, he hasn't really advanced beyond the "run until you pass out" stage of Garp's training, so there's probably a lot he doesn't know.
Most of the blood and grime is out of Mihawk's fur, so Koby busies himself for the moment with fingercombing the silky strands so they lie neatly. The warmth of Mihawk's hands at his waist, broad and familiar, is intensely reassuring, stopping the spiral of tension that had begun coiling in Koby's chest. He exhales, nodding.] I know. Even if Luffy's upset, he'll -- come around, eventually. He just doesn't know you.
[Firmly, looking back up at Mihawk, hair falling in his face:] I'll just need to be patient until he does. And then he'll -- [love you too] -- understand that you aren't going anywhere.
[A pause, something vulnerable and aching flickering in Koby's expression, a momentary glimpse of the constant unease he carries around.] Right?
Haki. (It would be a word Koby would eventually come to be familiar with in their world both here and if they ever went home.) It kept my sword from ever being damaged as well as allowed me such power in my swings. Kept my gaze sharp.
(He wasn't cutting boats down in half just because he believed in the power of friendship. Haki wasn't something easily mastered though either. There was a reason he was a bit bitter upon arrival in this place and it didn't just have to do with losing his sword.
It's a true testament to Mihawk's control that he doesn't just close his eyes and bang his head backward. His jaw was starting to tense up and he had to count backward and remember some basic sword movements.
Still, he can't help but give Koby a rather flat look.)
I will wait for his approval with bated breath. (This time the sarcasm is a bit sharper.)
You do realize I'm not going out of my way to get on good terms with him, don't you? (Because. He wasn't. He wasn't friendly on a general basis and had zero interest in building relationships. Or that's what he told himself all of the time. Yet he's just going to ignore the fact that he has built several here. He respected Luffy, at least, and that's not a compliment most ever lived to see from Mihawk so that's something.
He reaches a hand out to push Koby's hair up and back from his face. The determination was endearing as is anything Koby did really, and under different circumstances, he might even be flattered that Koby cared so much about his reputation among his friends.)
Just be realistic. (He chides gently, moving that hand down to Koby's neck.) I cut his friend down. Whenever you talk about him, you get a glow about you and go on about what a good person he is and how much his opinion matters to you. I'm just suggesting you consider the possibility that there may never be any sort of...
(He doesn't even know what to call it.)
Positive connection. (Sure. Alliance, absolutely, and that was already inevitable. After all, Mihawk was training Zoro and cared about Nami and was providing herbs for Sanji. He was- well, doing everything with Koby. The alliance part was the easy part. Sanji still resented him for cutting Zoro down and not only that, but resented him for turning his back on pirates.)
Our world is polarizing. (People had good reasons to hate who they hated.
He leans back again, smoothing a hand through his own hair, ears pricking up shortly after. At the aching wonder of Koby's expression, Mihawk sighs.)
No, I'm not going anywhere. (Not until you want me to.)
Haki. Right. [Koby's definitely heard Helmeppo ramble about that too, but -- well, he rambles about a lot of things, and Koby's usually too tired to really absorb much. Still, if it's something Mihawk has, he's immediately much more interested. Which is definitely something chill and casual about him.
The hand in his hair does little to dissuade the pout -- because Koby's definitely pouting now, his idealistic fantasies once again dampened by reality.] I know that. [Huffy, so huffy, leaning forward and crossing his arms on Mihawk's chest, then resting his chin on them.] If you did, I'd be worried you were sick or something. You don't really go out of your way for anything.
[Except Koby. Sometimes. But he's not thinking about that too hard.]
Yes, you did. The same friend you now train with shirtless every morning. [Koby...how do you know they're shirtless.] People can change. Or be more than one thing. [Then Koby sighs, relenting, absently stroking at the fur on Mihawk's chest.] You don't have to be best friends, but I'll settle for not actively trying to attack each other. [Mihawk has Shanks for that, after all.
Then, looking upwards again, with that intent, unflinching gaze:] Good. I'm not going anywhere either. Just because Luffy's here doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly disappear. [...ah. A little less oblivious than he seems, yet again.]
It's a power back in our world. I will tell you about it sometime. (It's a promise. There likely weren't any books about it here and he figured the other Straw Hats hadn't quite figured it out yet either. He would have started to train Zoro in it if they had any access, but here they were.
Okay well damn, don't give him that look. It actually almost makes Mihawk feel guilty. His expression softens marginally.)
What can I say? If it doesn't suit me...(Then why bother? Koby suited him and so he bothered often and well. Koby appealed to Mihawk's better side and if anyone could make Mihawk act civil, it was going to be Koby.)
Oh? Watching us that closely are you? (Absolutely caught that one.
Koby isn't wrong though. People were more complex than their past feelings. He watches Koby, softening even more. It was impossible not to.)
I have no intention of attacking him.
(That much he could promise. He did respect Luffy, and the boy didn't seem interested in getting Mihawk's way (for now) so it wasn't a problem. Besides, he knew Zoro and Nami would get upset with him too and all of that would just be far too annoying to deal with.
Koby's looking up suddenly with that familiar, bold way about his, and Mihawk's a bit stricken by the look. As he usually is. The words more. He glances away from Koby.)
Hmm. We'll see. (He looks back at Koby, head tipped to the side.) I prefer not to act naive about these things.
[There's a thoughtful nod, but it's been a long day, so even Koby's insistent need to know everything, all the time isn't as strong as usual. He can find out later, can ask a million questions and start harassing the Witches to see if they can get it back.
Oh, called out. Koby's ears turn pink and he scowls deeper, because Mihawk is definitely not going to believe that he hasn't been spying. In fact, Mihawk probably knew damn well Koby was there, once or twice. Or three times. Or -- he has a routine, okay, and it happens to take him past the dumb remote field where they train shirtless. How is that his fault?
But he doesn't have time to dwell on it, because Mihawk says that and Koby's abruptly sitting upright, a flash of genuine hurt on his face. It's raw, unguarded, a brief glimpse of just how deep his feelings go. He wants to -- yell, demand an explanation for why Mihawk would think that, why he assumes this (they) is inevitably doomed to failure.
Yet -- Koby had already left Mihawk, recently enough that it's still clearly an open wound. Of course. Of course. His shoulders drop a little, the aching pain disappearing from those big, sad eyes, replaced with a solemn resignation.] I...can't blame you for thinking that way. I haven't exactly shown you otherwise yet.
[A slow exhale, then Koby reaches out, setting his hands on either side of Mihawk's face, very gently.] So I have to...ask you to wait and see, again. Give me a chance to prove it. That I don't want to go anywhere. That I won't.
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Even now, at that gentle tug to his hair, Koby's reaction is a sound partway between annoyance and purring, cheeks turning as pink as the sealskin.] You need to rest and I'm not going anywhere, but I'm also not getting into bed with you all dirty. So.
[The bathroom is nice, nicer than any Koby's ever seen -- the marines are very utilitarian, and while Alvida had an ostentatious powder room, he was never allowed inside it. Mihawk's is just the level of extra Koby had imagined -- candles and clawfoot and sweet, musky soaps. It makes him smile a little, secret and fond, that he'd assumed correctly about the man's tastes.
Then, all business, starting to unbuckle the overalls:] Good idea. It'll take more scrubbing to get all that blood out of your, um. Fur. But I can do that once we're in.
[A pause, face slowly going redder because he'd also assumed they'd bathe together.] If that's...I mean, I can still help with all my clothes on, if you prefer. [As if there's any situation where Mihawk prefers him dressed as opposed to naked.]
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Such is the life he leads.
Mihawk was steadily working on the aesthetics of his home. He was hoping to invest in a lot of black paint and dramatic flourishings, but the bathroom was one of the main reasons he picked this cottage.
He steps into the tub, grimacing as the water begins to muddy as it goes down the drain.)
Of course. (Absently, as he sits on the edge of the tub and begins to scrub hard at his legs to get the worst of it all off.
His eyes flicker to Koby when there is that telling pause and oh...Mihawk sits up a bit straighter, head tipped.)
Koby, do you honestly ever think there is a moment in our relationship where I prefer you clothed? (Be so for real!! But...He glances appreciatively at the overalls again.) Though you do look nice in those.
(Very Cute. Cute isn't a word Mihawk uses though, so, you know. He gets back to work on rubbing himself down. Though he pauses. He's used to bathing himself and just doing it all himself. His eyes move over to Koby and he hesitates.)
Did you want to...? (Do...it all...how does one ask this? He could clean himself just fine, but...Also...Koby did want to help. Did that mean-.
Mihawk stares blankly at him. Pls help Koby no one has ever actually helped him like this before he has no clue what he's doing.)
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Speaking of cute -- Mihawk would probably be extremely indignant that such a word is being thought about him, but that blank look is exactly that. He's so clearly out of his depth, this massive, deadly warlord-turned-apex-predator, unable to find the words to even ask for help, much less conceptualize how it'd be given. It's both adorable and incredibly sad. When was the last time someone looked at Mihawk and wanted to help him -- not because he needs it, or because he's incapable, but because they cared? Because they wanted to?
Koby's smile is a warm, affectionate thing, because as we know, helping people is his thing. He pushes the straps of the overalls off his shoulders, tugging his shirt off so it doesn't get splashed. The witch's scar is gone, replaced with a swirling, delicate mark down the center of Koby's chest.] You get in first, all the way. I'll join once you're rinsed, okay? [But he'll pull up a chair at the far end of the tub from the faucet, gesturing commandingly.] Face away, I'll get your back and your hair. [Bossy Koby is here to stay, apparently. There's no more of the siren command, but he's not afraid to dip into it, if he needs to.]
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Did she now? Good. (He would have to...not thank her later, but get her something for her efforts. Especially after asking her to help Koby with the clothing situation.
There was definitely never a time when any of that ever happened. Mihawk had always been a lone wolf sort, now more literally than ever before. It wasn't even a sense of humiliation needing help. He just was unfamiliar with it. He had always taken care of himself and moved through the world on his own merit. His entire reputation was solely because he earned it alone. No mentors. No friends. No crew. No one.
Just him.
And up until very recently, he preferred it that way. He liked to think he still preferred it that way, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't grown attached to Koby. And the others.
When Koby smiles at him, his ears flick down and his tail begins to twitch traitorously. This time he notices and thinks about how to stop it. He winds up just grabbing it and sliding into the tub, not bothering to acknowledge that annoying new feature. He decides his best bet here is to not look too long at Koby. Except that literally never works, and as he settles in the water, his gaze is drawn back to his lover.)
I like these marks much better. (He opens the palm of his dominant hand to show Koby where his own had moved. He blinks at the command and hesitates. It's the first time he doesn't instantly move to follow a command from Koby.
There's something nearly deadly and contemplative in the look he gives him and it's entirely reactive. It was a strange gesture on his part, admittedly, but he rarely turned his back willingly on anyone for longer than he was comfortable with. Even at bars, he preferred his seats in the corner and tucked away. He liked to see everything at all times.
No one had ever seen his bare back, really. Even whenever they have slept together, he has faced Koby, been on top of Koby, or beneath him looking up. After all, a scar on a swordsman's back was the greatest shame. He's settled back against the tub, looking every bit as regal, even streaked in mud and dirt, and for a brief second, he almost says no. A matter of ego and some ridiculous swordsman's code or something.
But it's Koby. Koby who was trying to prove himself to Mihawk, who fit perfectly against his body and who was always vulnerable for Mihawk. There were many instances where he cared to give Koby the ability to control the situation, to say yes or no. Right then, it was Mihawk's option to say yes or no, and he could say no, could push back against a command --
His body slowly relaxes and he sighs.)
Very well.
(Slowly, he moves away, turning his back to Koby, even if it feels unnatural and stupid. He pushes that instinct down and rolls his shoulders. His back is as flawless as the rest of him, not a scar anywhere, though Koby will come to find a few beauty marks scattered about beneath the mess. Exposing his back and neck like this - well. Some might call him an idiot with how many enemies he had lined up, and how many marines he had killed.
It might be the biggest gesture of trust Mihawk has shown Koby thus far.)
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For a moment, Koby's too busy grabbing the soap and a cloth from a stack set nearby to notice Mihawk's pause. But when he does, it clicks -- oh. Right. Swordsman. That might not be anywhere near Koby's personal area of expertise, but he's known enough swordsmen in his life to be aware that turning your back on anyone is a dangerous move. Helmeppo never shut up about it, actually, which always prompted Koby to flatly remind him that he hadn't seen Zoro in his room until it was too late.
But Mihawk hasn't become the world's greatest swordsman by being careless. Koby's noticed his caution in every situation, the way those sharp, bright eyes take in every detail, noting potential structural weaknesses and escape routes. That had been part of the reason seeing the cabin door left wide open had been so terrifying, because normally Mihawk would never.
He's more himself now, though, in control and calm and calculating. Koby's used to him that way, used to getting only as much of Mihawk as the warlord is inclined to give. Part of why this, they work is because they've been careful to only expect what the other has promised already. No demands. No excessive requests. But now, thoughtlessly, Koby's asked for a show of trust that's completely unprecedented, even for a man he's seen thoroughly undressed more times than he can count.
There's already an apology forming, Koby half-rising to move around to the side of the tub instead, when Mihawk suddenly moves, settling in the water with his back to the far end of the tub. The act is quiet, without any sort of fanfare or acknowledgement of just how much it means. But it freezes Koby in his tracks, breath catching in his throat, because he knows. He knows.
It's several moments before he can move, can do anything except stare at the smooth, unmarked expanse of Mihawk's back, the line of his spine, the muscles coated in grime. Then Koby's swallowing hard against a sudden aching thickness in his throat, eyes very bright, emotion crashing through him like a wave as he settles back in his chair.] Okay. [It's very soft, followed by one hand slowly coming out to touch the back of Mihawk's shoulder, brushing away the dirt. A shaky inhale, then Koby's leaning forward, pressing his lips to the spot, not caring if Mihawk isn't perfectly clean yet. Softly, against his skin:] Thank you.
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What it is though is trust. Something deeper too. A gesture of...That. He knew Koby wasn't a stupid boy. Far from it. He was too compassionate for his own good and wickedly observant. He knew that Koby would know what it meant. Even in the slightest way possible. He can feel the weight of that silence and has to resist the urge to whip back around and see what look was on Koby's face, to look.
He resists that urge and decides that if he is going to do this then he is going to commit to it. The soft voice and touch make Mihawk relax, his head tipping back ever so slightly. He closes his own eyes and something settles in him.
He reaches his hand back, just so that he could slide his fingers over Koby's neck, against the hair at the back of his neck.)
Only for you. (He murmurs back, just as quietly, nearly lost beneath the rushing water, but not quite. He gently squeezes the back of Koby's neck. Three times. Pulsing squeezes. He lingers just a moment before he slides his hand away and back to his lap. Something better than pride was pushing its way through him, something that made turning his back feel infinitely worth it.
If Koby could trust him with his essence, the new seal skin he had come by, then Mihawk could trust him with this too. Always.)
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But this is the first time he thinks -- he lets himself think that it might be reciprocated. That Mihawk might feel the same. That this isn't just a pleasant diversion or a way to spend the time, but that Mihawk might --
love him back.
Koby squeezes his eyes shut tighter, forcing the thoughts, that word back as hard as he can. They don't have time for this, not in a world as dangerous as this. Stay in the moment, focus on the task, move his hands so his mind doesn't have time to spiral. He can think about this later, when he's alone, when he can lose himself in the what-ifs.
Straightening back up, Koby huffs out a steadying sigh, grabbing for the soap again and starting to wet, then lather up Mihawk's grimy back.] It looks like you rolled around in the mud. Do you really not remember? [There we go, when in doubt, gently mock.]
ugly sobbing
He smiles to himself as Koby gets himself composed. It's a private fondness, something he will keep to himself just as Koby keeps his tears to himself in the moment.)
It was a bit of a blur, I'll be honest. I have new senses. The feeling of being in the body was different too. I was rather large.
(That he did remember. He remembered pushing down trees.)
I felt...Strongly.
(He isn't going to say he went insane but he went a little insane! Werewolf life be like that sometimes. He begins to scrub himself down in the front. Feeling Koby was his back was as soothing as it was strange, but it began to feel...better.)
It was not my best moment, I'll admit.
legit rending my garments b y e
But there's no time to cry -- he process of washing Mihawk's back is much more compelling at the moment. Koby's always appreciated the other man's body (both to himself and in practice), but there's something intensely appealing about seeing the muscles he's only ever seen briefly or beneath clothes. And when they're all soapy and wet and warm beneath his hands -- well. It's plenty to keep him occupied.
Plus the incessant need to know everything is piqued by Mihawk's description of his transformation. Koby perks up, already trying to commit everything to memory. He might actually stop mid-bath to write everything down. Nerd.] New senses? Like what? Were you entirely wolf-shaped or more humanoid? I guess you probably couldn't tell, if you were busy, uh, feeling strongly.
[Then Koby huffs out a laugh, reluctantly rinsing off the soap and absently tracing from one beauty mark to another, like a private constellation just for him.] Even you're allowed to lose control sometimes. It's not some...failure of resolve, or whatever dramatic thing you're thinking.
[Wow, called out.]
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Smells are far different. It's difficult to explain. They feel deeper and more complex. I can see easily in the dark. Hm. I could easily go from all fours to being on my hind legs. I remember grabbing things with my - hands.
(Claws, more like, or paws? Either way. They had the usual dexterity he was used to.
When Koby laughs at him and has the audacity to say all that...! Mihawk flicks his tail to splash Koby with a good amount of water.)
I have never had a dramatic thought in my life.
(He's such a loser sometimes.)
I'm dangerous without control, Koby.
(This is the skin of a killer.)
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The descriptions get a thoughtful nod as Koby starts carefully finger-combing the matted mix of fur at the nape of Mihawk's neck, gently coaxing the suds on his hands through the dried blood and grime.] In between, then. That's somewhat useful, still being able to use your hands. I was just a regular seal, I think. [Sleek and quick and strangely graceful in the water, comically awkward on land.
And then Mihawk is splashing him, the absolute nerve! Koby gasps indignantly, jerking back to late to keep his face and front from getting wet.] H-Hey! [Sputtering, sitting back to snatch his shirt and use it to wipe his glasses dry:] That is the biggest lie you've ever told me. You have black walls and candles everywhere.
[Slightly dried off, Koby goes back to washing Mihawk's hair, perhaps a bit rougher than before, as punishment. Even though he probably likes having his hair pulled.] Then it's good the only time it's happened, you weren't around anyone, right? Now you can prepare for next time.
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We'll have to show each other if we can. (He didn't think he could change on command just yet - which was lowkey infuriating beyond belief. But he would like to see Koby as a seal. Especially a pink one.
One of his short, rare laughs snaps out of him at Koby's reaction to being splashed. He did so love playing with Koby like this, pulling on his pigtails right back.)
Black is an elegant color. Hardly dramatic. (He has refined taste, thank you very much. He's so smug even as Koby is a bit rougher with his hair. He likes it a bit rough so jokes on you.)
That feels lovely. (Just for added spite :D)
Just Shanks. (Who was probably fine. They've had way worse fights.)
I suppose. I should make you do some research for me on the subject.
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Then Koby rolls his eyes, digging in his blunt nails against Mihawk's scalp.] You say elegant, I say dramatic. I like blue. Or white. [Like a marine uniform. Nerd.
Right, Shanks. Koby makes a mental note to follow up on that later. Mihawk didn't seem too bothered, so violence was apparently the norm for them -- not that he has room to talk, considering he'd decked Helmeppo the day they met.]
I like research, so there's no "making" about it. There have to be books about it, or people in town who've had similar changes, right? Maybe I should check in with the Straw Hats...
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(Or if it had to be wild waters.
He can't seem to stop smirking. The wolf thing really was making him lose some decent control. That or he just was doing it because he knew Koby had no way of seeing it though it was certainly evident in his voice.
Violence was all too common in their world, truly.)
Most likely.
(...That probably was a good idea.)
I'll check in with Zoro. Do make sure the idiot cook is in one piece. (...) And Nami.
(He was starting to feel more himself. He turned around, finally facing Koby once again. He reached a hand up, cupping his hand against the side of his face.)
Clean enough for you to get in yet?
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Then he nods, already planning to go over in person to check -- he needs to make sure everyone's safe with his own eyes. A pause, then, because Mihawk doesn't know, and Koby adds lightly:] And Luffy. He's here now. [There's an undeniably warm note in his voice, one that he can't quite hide.
Tilting his head into Mihawk's hand, Koby smiles fondly, glasses slipping down his nose.] I think so. You sound impatient.
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(Mihawk was moving close to Koby when he informed him of Luffy's arrival. That brings Mihawk to a halt, his hand stilling. He stares calmly at Koby, his expression effortlessly neutral. It's a simple oh that cuts through him and his hand slides off of Koby's face.)
I'm sure you're all bursting with joy. (It's his usual drawl of sarcasm, nothing out of the ordinary. He shifted to finally plug the tub and let it begin filling up with water properly.)
Hardly. It's simply a waste of warm water.
(He moves around to sit at the end of the tub without the facet, sinking down as the tub begins to fill. He props his arms up along the edges of the tub, looking at Koby and just memorizing him in detail. It won't be long then. Death had been one thing. Even in his hurt, he understood why Koby abandoned him for his cause. He couldn't entirely fault Koby for that - and he understood now too that Koby's dreams had changed to accommodate an actual life outside of being everyone's favorite little hero.
This was far different. It is one thing to remember someone, but to have them near, breathing and able to flourish with you...Well. Mihawk wasn't a stupid man.
Thankfully, he was controlled. Even now. The stakes were high and so even his ears are controlled. It's fine. This is fine. He nods to his lap, ignoring the sour plunging ache at the back of his throat.)
Come, then.
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[Then, unbuttoning the sides of the overalls, unaware of Mihawk's inner turmoil:] And I'll talk to him, about what's been happening. It'll be fine. [It's reassuring to a worry that Mihawk isn't actually having -- that Luffy might be upset about the whole Zoro near-death-experience thing. Koby is completely confident in his ability to maintain the situation, to ensure harmony across the board. Seeing Luffy again had soothed something deep in his soul, but he wants the pirate to know everything. More than anyone else, Luffy is his friend. The person he'd changed so much for.
If Luffy disapproves, if he tells Koby he should stop seeing Mihawk, though...well. It'll hurt, but Koby's already made his mind up. He'll just have to talk Luffy into why it's a good idea and actually everyone's wrong about Mihawk. No big deal.
Completely unaware that actually verbalizing all this might be a good idea, Koby stands up to push off the rest of his clothes. And while Mihawk might be currently occupied with dark thoughts, there's no way he'll miss the fact that either Nami went above and beyond or Koby took some fashion initiative of his own -- because the underwear he has on is definitely brand new.
Ears red, Koby pauses long enough to make sure Mihawk sees. Compliment him, damn it.]
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As I'm sure it will for you too.
(Because anyone would be stupid to ignore the way Koby has spoken about Luffy before. The boy lit up and became this warm, hopeful creature. Begrudgingly, Mihawk has to appreciate Luffy for that alone. Koby deserved to look like that all the time, and some part of Mihawk thinks that if he has to let Koby go, he is at least grateful to let him go to someone who is so capable.
He blinks slowly. The affair. Right. It made enough sense. Everyone else knew, after all. It was only a matter of time before Luffy did too. Mihawk wasn't even thinking about the Zoro situation. Mostly because it is what it is and he had been indifferent about the straw hats' different hostilities toward him over the situation. He watches Koby carefully and takes his obliviousness to mean that Koby doesn't even realize how he sounds when talking about Luffy.
Really would be only a matter of time then. He slides a hand through his dense fur, slicking it back from his face.)
You don't have to go through the effort. I don't care what he thinks about me. (Which comes out a bit harder than he intends, and he's being honest. If Luffy thought he was some heartless sadist, then so be it. He wasn't completely off base.
Plus the idea of Koby telling Luffy about them...He wondered what Luffy's reaction would be and if Luffy would try to convince Koby to leave him. Or if he would be more like Sanji and tell him that Mihawk was a bastard who would never care about him. Mihawk couldn't exactly imagine the latter happening with how positive Luffy seemed to be, but the rest...Who knew?
He figured if anyone could talk any sense into Koby, it was Luffy. He sighs, sinking down in the tub, and props his neck against the edge, staring sullenly up at the ceiling. The sound of pants dropping draws his attention. He rolls his head forward and ah- well.
Oh, how he is going to miss this.)
Look at you. (Even with the pit in his stomach, it's impossible for him to not react.)
You're completely divine.
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He doesn't have his powers here -- the devil fruit ones. I think it's been hard on him. [There's a definite fretful note in Koby's voice as he grabs the soap again, starts coaxing the dry blood out of Mihawk's fur. He won't admit it outright, but he likes the silky, dark trail that leads down Mihawk's stomach, likes sliding his fingers through the thick mess, likes how wild it makes Mihawk look. Koby himself has staunchly avoided shaving for years, but...well, all his hair is pink. Sort of hard to see, even if it's all over his legs or stomach or arms.
The careless response gets a momentary frown, and Koby's bright, serious eyes catching Mihawk's newly canine ones.] I care. You're important to me. [Then, sitting up and pushing his glasses on top of his head, holding back his hair:] If you'd rather I didn't tell him, I won't.
[It comes out very flat for someone who, less than a month ago, was ready to pretend he didn't even know Mihawk, much less intimately. Koby is surprised at his own reluctance to be some sort of dirty secret. Still, if it's what Mihawk wants, he'll respect that. Begrudgingly.]
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With Koby so near and facing him, Mihawk knew he had to school himself even stricter. Koby was perceptive though thankfully right now, he seemed oblivious and Mihawk had no problem taking advantage of that either. He would rather not make a big deal out of the inevitable truths here.)
Hmm. (A disinterested noise, but then...) Nor do I. He will live. In any case, he has plenty of support regardless.
(There was no choice really but to accept it and move on. Deal with the hand one was given in this weird place. Just like Mihawk planned to master this werewolf business as he had swords before.
He raises a brow at Koby, noting the flat tone. No, he had no interest in keeping this a dirty secret either. Nor did he want Koby to think that was what he meant. He slides his hands over his waist and squeezes.)
I didn't mean it like that. I only meant that Luffy already knows who I am. I'm sure he will form his own conclusions about...this situation. Don't feel you owe anyone any sort of explanation for your own choices, Koby.
(Another squeeze and he kisses the corner of Koby's mouth, hoping to assure the man that it had nothing to do with wanting to keep their relationship private. He eases back from Koby, settling back against the tub.)
What happens is bound to happen.
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Most of the blood and grime is out of Mihawk's fur, so Koby busies himself for the moment with fingercombing the silky strands so they lie neatly. The warmth of Mihawk's hands at his waist, broad and familiar, is intensely reassuring, stopping the spiral of tension that had begun coiling in Koby's chest. He exhales, nodding.] I know. Even if Luffy's upset, he'll -- come around, eventually. He just doesn't know you.
[Firmly, looking back up at Mihawk, hair falling in his face:] I'll just need to be patient until he does. And then he'll -- [love you too] -- understand that you aren't going anywhere.
[A pause, something vulnerable and aching flickering in Koby's expression, a momentary glimpse of the constant unease he carries around.] Right?
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(He wasn't cutting boats down in half just because he believed in the power of friendship. Haki wasn't something easily mastered though either. There was a reason he was a bit bitter upon arrival in this place and it didn't just have to do with losing his sword.
It's a true testament to Mihawk's control that he doesn't just close his eyes and bang his head backward. His jaw was starting to tense up and he had to count backward and remember some basic sword movements.
Still, he can't help but give Koby a rather flat look.)
I will wait for his approval with bated breath. (This time the sarcasm is a bit sharper.)
You do realize I'm not going out of my way to get on good terms with him, don't you? (Because. He wasn't. He wasn't friendly on a general basis and had zero interest in building relationships. Or that's what he told himself all of the time. Yet he's just going to ignore the fact that he has built several here. He respected Luffy, at least, and that's not a compliment most ever lived to see from Mihawk so that's something.
He reaches a hand out to push Koby's hair up and back from his face. The determination was endearing as is anything Koby did really, and under different circumstances, he might even be flattered that Koby cared so much about his reputation among his friends.)
Just be realistic. (He chides gently, moving that hand down to Koby's neck.) I cut his friend down. Whenever you talk about him, you get a glow about you and go on about what a good person he is and how much his opinion matters to you. I'm just suggesting you consider the possibility that there may never be any sort of...
(He doesn't even know what to call it.)
Positive connection. (Sure. Alliance, absolutely, and that was already inevitable. After all, Mihawk was training Zoro and cared about Nami and was providing herbs for Sanji. He was- well, doing everything with Koby. The alliance part was the easy part. Sanji still resented him for cutting Zoro down and not only that, but resented him for turning his back on pirates.)
Our world is polarizing. (People had good reasons to hate who they hated.
He leans back again, smoothing a hand through his own hair, ears pricking up shortly after. At the aching wonder of Koby's expression, Mihawk sighs.)
No, I'm not going anywhere. (Not until you want me to.)
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The hand in his hair does little to dissuade the pout -- because Koby's definitely pouting now, his idealistic fantasies once again dampened by reality.] I know that. [Huffy, so huffy, leaning forward and crossing his arms on Mihawk's chest, then resting his chin on them.] If you did, I'd be worried you were sick or something. You don't really go out of your way for anything.
[Except Koby. Sometimes. But he's not thinking about that too hard.]
Yes, you did. The same friend you now train with shirtless every morning. [Koby...how do you know they're shirtless.] People can change. Or be more than one thing. [Then Koby sighs, relenting, absently stroking at the fur on Mihawk's chest.] You don't have to be best friends, but I'll settle for not actively trying to attack each other. [Mihawk has Shanks for that, after all.
Then, looking upwards again, with that intent, unflinching gaze:] Good. I'm not going anywhere either. Just because Luffy's here doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly disappear. [...ah. A little less oblivious than he seems, yet again.]
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Okay well damn, don't give him that look. It actually almost makes Mihawk feel guilty. His expression softens marginally.)
What can I say? If it doesn't suit me...(Then why bother? Koby suited him and so he bothered often and well. Koby appealed to Mihawk's better side and if anyone could make Mihawk act civil, it was going to be Koby.)
Oh? Watching us that closely are you? (Absolutely caught that one.
Koby isn't wrong though. People were more complex than their past feelings. He watches Koby, softening even more. It was impossible not to.)
I have no intention of attacking him.
(That much he could promise. He did respect Luffy, and the boy didn't seem interested in getting Mihawk's way (for now) so it wasn't a problem. Besides, he knew Zoro and Nami would get upset with him too and all of that would just be far too annoying to deal with.
Koby's looking up suddenly with that familiar, bold way about his, and Mihawk's a bit stricken by the look. As he usually is. The words more. He glances away from Koby.)
Hmm. We'll see. (He looks back at Koby, head tipped to the side.) I prefer not to act naive about these things.
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Oh, called out. Koby's ears turn pink and he scowls deeper, because Mihawk is definitely not going to believe that he hasn't been spying. In fact, Mihawk probably knew damn well Koby was there, once or twice. Or three times. Or -- he has a routine, okay, and it happens to take him past the dumb remote field where they train shirtless. How is that his fault?
But he doesn't have time to dwell on it, because Mihawk says that and Koby's abruptly sitting upright, a flash of genuine hurt on his face. It's raw, unguarded, a brief glimpse of just how deep his feelings go. He wants to -- yell, demand an explanation for why Mihawk would think that, why he assumes this (they) is inevitably doomed to failure.
Yet -- Koby had already left Mihawk, recently enough that it's still clearly an open wound. Of course. Of course. His shoulders drop a little, the aching pain disappearing from those big, sad eyes, replaced with a solemn resignation.] I...can't blame you for thinking that way. I haven't exactly shown you otherwise yet.
[A slow exhale, then Koby reaches out, setting his hands on either side of Mihawk's face, very gently.] So I have to...ask you to wait and see, again. Give me a chance to prove it. That I don't want to go anywhere. That I won't.
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