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.
(He most definitely has. It is hard for him to not be aware of Koby's presence and the pink hair really didn't help him. He didn't mind it though. If he knew Koby was out training with someone, he would likely be stopping by as well to stalk and assess the situation. For science.
Mihawk watches him sit up sharply, watches that look of hurt, and again, he feels another dull pulse of guilt. It's not an emotion he's familiar with and he immediately decides he doesn't like it in the slightest. A small part of him wants to assure Koby, but it would be a lie to act like anything else was the truth.)
You did just spend quite a bit of time going on about how much his approval means, yes.
(And just- looking like he does whenever he talks about Luffy. Which. It's fine. Totally fine that Koby is close with other people. Mihawk believed Koby should be close to other people. Koby deserved friends and nice things. He does have to clench his jaw again because it feels unnatural to not rush to comfort Koby when he has that upset look on his face.
He doesn't expect Koby to reach out to him, to cup his face. The gesture catches him off guard enough that his eyes widen marginally. He softens again and slides a hand over one of Koby's, turning his face to kiss the inside of Koby's wrist.)
We're friends. [And -- yes, at one time, Luffy had meant everything to Koby, a mixture of worship and affection and gratitude that was more potent than anything he'd ever felt. It had been enough to have him standing up to Garp, the first step in a very long, exhausting journey that had brought him where he was then -- sitting in Mihawk's lap, hands on his face, watching his stony expression for the telltale signs that it seems like only Koby knows. If not for Luffy, he wouldn't be here. Koby doesn't know how not to light up when talking about him.] It'd be nice to have his approval, but...
[A pause, thumb stroking over the swirling, intricate edge of Mihawk's beard.] If he tells me I shouldn't keep seeing you, I'll tell him he's wrong. [And hopefully Luffy will listen. Hopefully it won't end in Koby having to choose. He can't let himself think that it might all be for nothing, that he might be doomed, otherwise he'll want to give up before he even starts.
Mihawk kisses his wrist, and some of the anxiety is gone. Koby smiles, soft and sleepy and affectionate.] One second. [Then he leans forward, presses his lips to Mihawk's forehead, gentle and fervent at the same time, unbearable tenderness in the gesture.] Okay. Don't want you to catch a cold. [Right, because Mihawk's the one in danger of that.]
Yes, I'm incredibly aware. (Mihawk was also aware of the situation too. He knew what Luffy had done for Koby, and he wouldn't blame Koby if he wasn't still quite over that. It didn't take away the mild sting though. Everything was fresh from the sacrifice, but also the arrival of Shanks, and now Luffy. Mihawk was feeling a bit ground down on all sides and he missed the familiarity of his sword, his regular powers, and now, the control over his own body and emotions.
He wasn't the sort to admit it, but he was running on a thin line. He wouldn't describe himself as hopeless either. His realism was just bordering more on pessimism right about now.
It felt like for the first time in...Well, maybe since he was a child or a teenager, he had lost in some way.)
All right. (Mihawk isn't so sure how that will go. Although, truthfully, he can't imagine Luffy was the sort of person who would demand Koby choose anyway. After all, the boy let Koby chase after his dream of being a marine without ruining their friendship. So.)
For what it's worth, I don't think he will tell you that. He seems to be an advocate for people going after what they want even if it contradicts his own dreams.
(He really didn't hate Luffy. And he didn't hate what he's done for Koby. Part of him does want to comfort Koby because he didn't want Koby to worry so much about it either - even if Mihawk wasn't so positive or sold on everything, that didn't mean he had to fill Koby's head up with insecure jibes that Mihawk didn't even believe. Uncomfortable or not, he was always going to be honest with Koby.
He didn't want Koby to think his friend would abandon him after everything he has done for him. He doesn't like how Koby lights up thinking about him, but he didn't want there to be a reason that thinking on Luffy made him sad either.
At the end of the day, it was just like back at the sacrifice. He wanted Koby to do what he wanted. He wanted Koby to go after his dreams and do what felt right to him. Mihawk would never stand in the way of that. Even if that dream wound up not including him at all.
He knew he had never made Shanks light up that way either. Some part of him grappled with the fact that this was merely the outcome of the life he had led and he had no right to be bitter about it. He said he was fine on his own so he should be fine on his own.
He doesn't even realize he has a headache until Koby is kissing his forehead and he feels the slightest pulse of relief. Luffy or Shanks or sacrifices or not - he did know how he felt about Koby. Koby who worried about him catching a cold. He scoffs.)
Honestly.
(He's never caught a cold in his life. He grabs Koby then, and stands up out of the tub, holding Koby in a classic bridal pose. He undoes the drain and steps out of the tub, sighing.)
That was less sexy than I had envisioned. (The tragedy of being emo. He sets Koby on the edge of his bathroom counter and reaches for two fluffy black towels. He wraps one around his waist before getting to work on patting Koby dry beeecause he can!)
You're probably right. [Koby smiles wryly, a little self-deprecating.] But who would I be if I didn't worry anyway?
[Then he quiets, watching the tiny shifts in Mihawk's expression, the tightening of his jaw, the faraway look in his eye. There's more there than his and Luffy's history -- something deeper, older, something that Mihawk clearly doesn't want to talk about. Koby is desperately curious, but he can sense the weight of whatever it is, and wisely bites his lower lip and says nothing.
If Mihawk wants to say it, he will, eventually. Despite being obviously the stronger, more dominant one in this -- thing of theirs, Mihawk has let Koby take the lead in every actual decision, all the way back to the fireside ritual. Part of Koby is relieved by this, by the sense of control it gives him, but sometimes...he wishes Mihawk would ask things. Material comforts aside, Koby doesn't think Mihawk's very good at making requests. Even someone with a very high opinion of themselves can have low self-esteem in specific areas.
Still, there's visible exhaustion in the man's furrowed brow, the slight tension of his shoulders as Koby holds onto his neck. Now is not the time to get into a conversation as complex as their self-image issues. Koby smooths his thumb along Mihawk's jaw, soothingly, fretting a bit.] You look tired. Do you need any food before we go to bed?
[The comment makes Koby laugh, obligingly letting Mihawk towel him dry. Well, sort of -- he does make a nuisance of himself by stroking and petting the man's now-clean, fluffy wolf ears.] We can always try again when we're less tired. [Nuzzling one ear now, kissing the pointed tip, he murmurs:] Seeing you all wet and soapy was nice, though. Definitely my favorite part.
(Mihawk didn't know how to talk to people about things. He never had and had never thought he would. It's true. He didn't ask things, didn't ask for help, didn't vocalize anything of the sort. Mostly he figured he could do things on his own. Whatever this thing between them was, it was only beginning to build better habits. Even if it didn't exactly feel like that right now.
It's nice to be soothed by Koby. Some of that tension relaxes and he decides he's done enough sulking for the past twenty-four-hours. Koby's fretting was sweet as ever and he relaxed even further at hearing his laugh.)
No, I'm fine. Do you need anything?
(He's pretty sure he ate a whole lot of something as a wolf and was still feeling that. His ears flick about on his head at the attention, and then Koby is nuzzling his ear, kissing it, and it's actually too much! The tragedy of wolf ears meant that he no longer blushed in the tips of his ears, but now, he blushed a bit across the bridge of his nose, an unfamiliar burning.)
I could say the same. (He reluctantly pulls away from Koby and removes his own towel because it just wasn't cutting it. He had to...He had to...
Mihawk proceeds to shake himself like a dog. Sorry, Koby, you're getting some spray back. He scrubs at his hair with one of the towels and then moves it to dry off his tail. Koby now gets to finally see the sight of a Mihawk without his hair slicked back. His hair is spiked and a bit long, and truthfully, he looks younger with his hair down. Maybe even softer. Mihawk pulls his towel away from his tail, approving of its dryness at last.)
Please tell me I don't smell like a wet dog. (Oh god.............
Thankfully he doesn't although his musky scent was a bit stronger.)
[Oh yeah, the ears are going to become a thing -- they're so soft, fluffy and plush at the bases with velvety-fine fur in the delicate hollows. And they're clearly sensitive, twitching and flicking under Koby's gentle attention. He's ready to tease more, see just how flustered it makes Mihawk, when he steps back. Left on the counter, Koby is unaware of the imminent danger, beginning to reply:] No, I ate before I--
[And then Mihawk is shaking himself off, spraying water all over and Koby's words break off in a squawk as the droplets splatter his glasses, his face again. He's about to lecture, about to get huffy, reaching up and furiously toweling off the lenses. But then he sees Mihawk's hair, loose and soft and tumbling around his face, pointed ears pricked in the middle, tail curling sleek and powerful, and of course the now-familiar splendor of his bare chest, his shoulders, his legs and stomach.
And Koby's seen Mihawk naked several times now. But something is different about this, the wolf features and the just-drying hair and the now-clean trail of fur down Mihawk's lean stomach. It's oddly vulnerable, like Koby's finally seeing behind the constantly put-together persona, like he's really seeing Mihawk for the first time.
His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment he can't speak. When he does, what he means to say is something about Mihawk smelling perfectly fine. What he does say is:] You're beautiful.
(It seemed as though every time they were together, more walls came down even as Mihawk was convinced he was putting more up. Even tonight, despite the uncomfortable conversation, it was a more upfront and vulnerable conversation than he was used to. Acknowledging problems. Talking about...insecurities even if they hadn't been directly referred to as such. Turning his back to Koby.
He may be uncertain about their future, but he wasn't uncertain about Koby. Koby who was staring at him in that way, Koby who was looking at him like it was the first time he'd ever seen another person before. Mihawk's eyes are narrowed, but there's no anger in him. He's curious about that look, about what exactly is running through Koby's mind.
Then that comes out and Mihawk's head jerks back absently, surprise open on his face. Excuse you?!
A bit of heat fills back into his face but this time a healthy flush crawls into his chest too. Maybe it was the wolf's blood running far hotter, or maybe it was because no one alive had the audacity to call him things like beautiful - at least not to his face.
To someone who knew less, they might think he was looking at Koby with murderous intent, but really, it was just a moment of overwhelming emotion. He moves forward in a rush, grabbing Koby by his face and bringing their mouths together in a fierce sort of kiss. Every unsaid thing burned through the kiss.
Then he's pulling away in an embarrassed fashion, strolling out of the bathroom swiftly.)
[Even a month ago, saying something that soft, that audaciously romantic would've immediately prompted Koby to stammer and backtrack, blushing furiously and apologizing for his forwardness. But instead he just sits there, gazing at Mihawk like he hung the stars, the moon, like he's singlehandedly responsible for every good thing in the world.
He knows that expression, but he's only ever seen glimpses of it in the most intense, heated moments he and Mihawk have had, and then only in passing. Now it stays, oddly softened by Mihawk's loose hair, the flush across his nose, the soft, pointed wolf ears. Koby finally manages to do something other than stare openly, a small smile curling across his face just as Mihawk leans forward and kisses him hard, ferocious.
There's a bright, delighted laugh as Mihawk strides out of the bathroom, and Koby's already calling after him:] You should be resting, you know. [But of course, when he joins Mihawk a few moments later, he's wearing the strawberry-print panties as directed, sitting low on his hips, clingy and silky and hiding absolutely nothing.]
I rested earlier. You did suggest I eat something.
(Mihawk, he didn't mean that!
He's waiting for Koby. The moment he steps into view, Mihawk is growling appreciatively. An actual growl, something feral and animalistic. He really didn't appreciate this properly earlier.)
Oh. I do love how those look on you.
(He's waiting for Koby, standing over him, but now that Koby is near again...He gets the strongest instinct to just...
Get down onto his knees. Which he does in one fluid motion. His hands slide up the backs of Koby's thighs.)
[But Koby doesn't have it in him to argue, not when Mihawk's looking at him like that, all hunger and raw, animal desire. He's slowly getting used to Mihawk's intense gaze, but the new wolf traits bring it to another level entirely. It thrills that new, animal-like part of Koby, terrifying and compelling all at once.
And then Mihawk goes down on his knees. And Koby's left breathless again, by the act of it, the show of submission from someone so huge, so powerful. He reaches out immediately, slides his fingers through Mihawk's hair, curling them through the loose strands. Then, tongue sliding across his lower lip in that unerring cue of how much he's enjoying something, Koby tugs firmly on Mihawk's hair, prompting him to look upwards.]
Good. I'm glad you like them. [There's a strange glint in his eyes, something almost -- possessive, free hand slowly reaching out to stroke along Mihawk's face, cradle his cheek. Koby's teased Mihawk before -- it's one of his favorite things, actually -- but he's never been this dominant in bed before. It's...kind of nice, having Mihawk on his knees, looking upwards, like a good boy.
That thought has Koby blushing immediately, ears and nose and cheeks. He clears his throat, runs a thumb along the ruffled elastic.] I liked these best. No daisy ones though. [Daisies are his favorite.]
(He obediently lets Koby tug on his hair to pull his head back. He's already let his hair down and shown his back to Koby tonight. Why not let him have it all? He already did, practically.
He gazes up at Koby with half-lidded eyes, something warm simmering through him. This was a new angle entirely and he finds that he loves looking up at Koby from his knees. Why had it taken so long to get here again? Never the occasion for it, he supposed. He had always taken the reigns and dominated every time they rolled into bed.
The sight of Koby's blush rouses a smug smirk, as if Mihawk could read his mind. He leans forward, humming, pressing his face against Koby's crotch. He breathes him in and having that deeper appreciation of scents is doing something completely new to his body. He winds up nuzzling in deep, rumbling low in his throat. Daises. What do daisies have to do with anything again?
His tongue slides out over the material, and Koby might find that his tongue was a bit different now too. Thicker, longer. He doesn't push past the material, but mouths at Koby. His instincts were screaming to claim and mark Koby as his. Any dread about Luffy or Shanks or their life back home was completely gone from his mind.)
[That look -- a mixture of heated desire and adoration -- is one Koby's going to remember for the rest of his life. His thumb traces the shape of Mihawk's lower lip, near-reverently, before both hands slide into the loose, slightly damp hair, holding on for stability. Because the second Mihawk's mouth is pressed to the thin, gauzy fabric, Koby's knees go weak, buckling a little, a shuddery gasp escaping him.]
That's -- different. [The tongue he means, the size, the texture, the heat. It has Koby's stomach going tight, heat coursing through his body, pooling right where Mihawk's tongue is soaking through the fabric. He's shivering at how much he wants it, how every sense feels heightened, intensified.
Koby's blunt nails dig deeper into Mihawk's hair, and he breathes out, without pausing to think:] Wonder what else is different about you now?
(A growl vibrates through his throat and into his tongue in answer to that question. We'll just have to find out. He can't be bothered to pull away because he had thought he loved Koby's pussy before, but now, he was already achingly hard and half drunk on the smell and taste of it. Something insatiable grows in him in a split second and then he just snaps.
He winds up ripping away at Koby's panties, tearing the delicate fabric easily. His hands go to grip Koby's hips after, holding him up. He proceeds to slide that new tongue of his into the deepest part of Koby without any real effort. He could never get that deep with his regular tongue, but this one...
Then he just goes at Koby. He's drinking everything up, pumping his tongue in and out of Koby like he was something worth lapping at. There's an unhinged vigor, like he was a man starved who just discovered a feast and didn't know where to start. His eyes were starting to glow bright and his hands gripping Koby so hard they would no doubt leave marks. Again.)
[The panties were nice while they lasted, but if the two options are wearing them or having Mihawk's -- longer, thicker, somehow even more talented -- tongue buried in his cunt, Koby knows what's going to win every single time. He gasps thickly, clutching at Mihawk's hair, bucking his hips forward, against that wicked wonderful tongue.
There are going to be bruises all around his hips, and Koby doesn't even remotely care, too busy riding the slick heat of Mihawk's tongue, knees going weak, breath coming in shuddery moans. The angle is brand new -- usually he's on his back when Mihawk eats him out -- and it's only that firm grip on his waist that keeps him upright.]
Good, so, s-so good... [Koby's gasping out, nails grazing the bases of Mihawk's ears, looking down at him with adoration and want and fondness. He's absolutely soaked against Mihawk's tongue, shivery pleasure through his whole body and the next words just sort of tumble out:] You're being so good for me.
(They could always get more later. Once Mihawk came to his less horny senses, he would look into finding some daisy pattern things for Koby. Mihawk is absolutely relishing in Koby, both his taste and the way he sounds above him. He loves the texture of Koby, sweeping his tongue faster through him until his own cheeks were dripping and a bit of Koby's wetness had dripped down his own chin.
Being called good gets a solid wag from his tail and he huddles up closer against Koby. He somehow grips him harder and tongue-fucks him even deeper. This time he keeps his mouth clamped on Koby and just twists his tongue around inside of him. He licks alone his walls, curls his tongue, and flicks it back and forth. He lets out a low whining noise, huffing quietly because holy fuck was he hard.
But he was intent on getting Koby off first. Maybe a soft apology for being so miserable earlier. He slides his tongue slowly out of Koby before sweeping it up over his lips, around his clit, and sucks on that spot for a long moment, just pushing his tongue against it again and again before he's back to driving his tongue into Koby. He really couldn't get enough of it right now.)
[Honestly, at this point Koby's forgotten his own name, much less the purpose of clothing. The only thing that exists is the relentless deep thrusts of Mihawk's tongue, hot and slick and so, so damn eager. Granted, he's never really lacked motivation when it came to getting his mouth on Koby, but this is a completely new level of intensity, possibly spurred on by the canine instincts?
Who knows -- there's not room for anything except Koby's hands clutching at Mihawk's hair, his voice high and needy and sharp, begging or praising or somewhere in between. The grip on his hips is the one thing that keeps him upright when he finally comes with a shattered moan, shamelessly rutting against Mihawk's mouth, soaking his chin and beard once again, because apparently that's going to become a habit.
Feeling untethered, shaky, and not at all sated, Koby tugs hard at Mihawk's hair, breath raspy, eyes heated and dark and hungry.] Bed. R-Right now. [It's a command, skirting close to that compulsion and just barely holding back -- no time for teasing, he needs Mihawk inside him right that fucking second.]
(There is almost a ferocious growl when he's interrupted by Koby's hard tug. He likes that tug though, and by now, his cock is absolutely throbbing between his legs. He jerks his head back to glower up at Koby as if he was annoyed at having to stop his indulgence.
But then he realizes........
Maybe it's not so bad. He stands up and as he does, he just picks Koby up with him. Who needed to walk when your boyfriend could whisk you around as though you weighed absolutely nothing? He manhandles Koby onto the bed and immediately puts Koby on his stomach. Which is unusual for them, but he had some instincts going against his usual desire to stare Koby down while they fucked. Besides...
Koby does look lovely from behind. He lifts him up onto his knees and within seconds, his cock is sliding in deep, and as Koby had theorized, Mihawk was different here too. He was hotter, bigger, thicker. He growls again, hooking an arm around Koby's waist, curling protectively around his back as he begins to thrust into Koby.)
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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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Mihawk watches him sit up sharply, watches that look of hurt, and again, he feels another dull pulse of guilt. It's not an emotion he's familiar with and he immediately decides he doesn't like it in the slightest. A small part of him wants to assure Koby, but it would be a lie to act like anything else was the truth.)
You did just spend quite a bit of time going on about how much his approval means, yes.
(And just- looking like he does whenever he talks about Luffy. Which. It's fine. Totally fine that Koby is close with other people. Mihawk believed Koby should be close to other people. Koby deserved friends and nice things. He does have to clench his jaw again because it feels unnatural to not rush to comfort Koby when he has that upset look on his face.
He doesn't expect Koby to reach out to him, to cup his face. The gesture catches him off guard enough that his eyes widen marginally. He softens again and slides a hand over one of Koby's, turning his face to kiss the inside of Koby's wrist.)
You know I will wait.
(That he can say without any hesitation.)
Let's get out. The water is getting cold.
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[A pause, thumb stroking over the swirling, intricate edge of Mihawk's beard.] If he tells me I shouldn't keep seeing you, I'll tell him he's wrong. [And hopefully Luffy will listen. Hopefully it won't end in Koby having to choose. He can't let himself think that it might all be for nothing, that he might be doomed, otherwise he'll want to give up before he even starts.
Mihawk kisses his wrist, and some of the anxiety is gone. Koby smiles, soft and sleepy and affectionate.] One second. [Then he leans forward, presses his lips to Mihawk's forehead, gentle and fervent at the same time, unbearable tenderness in the gesture.] Okay. Don't want you to catch a cold. [Right, because Mihawk's the one in danger of that.]
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He wasn't the sort to admit it, but he was running on a thin line. He wouldn't describe himself as hopeless either. His realism was just bordering more on pessimism right about now.
It felt like for the first time in...Well, maybe since he was a child or a teenager, he had lost in some way.)
All right. (Mihawk isn't so sure how that will go. Although, truthfully, he can't imagine Luffy was the sort of person who would demand Koby choose anyway. After all, the boy let Koby chase after his dream of being a marine without ruining their friendship. So.)
For what it's worth, I don't think he will tell you that. He seems to be an advocate for people going after what they want even if it contradicts his own dreams.
(He really didn't hate Luffy. And he didn't hate what he's done for Koby. Part of him does want to comfort Koby because he didn't want Koby to worry so much about it either - even if Mihawk wasn't so positive or sold on everything, that didn't mean he had to fill Koby's head up with insecure jibes that Mihawk didn't even believe. Uncomfortable or not, he was always going to be honest with Koby.
He didn't want Koby to think his friend would abandon him after everything he has done for him. He doesn't like how Koby lights up thinking about him, but he didn't want there to be a reason that thinking on Luffy made him sad either.
At the end of the day, it was just like back at the sacrifice. He wanted Koby to do what he wanted. He wanted Koby to go after his dreams and do what felt right to him. Mihawk would never stand in the way of that. Even if that dream wound up not including him at all.
He knew he had never made Shanks light up that way either. Some part of him grappled with the fact that this was merely the outcome of the life he had led and he had no right to be bitter about it. He said he was fine on his own so he should be fine on his own.
He doesn't even realize he has a headache until Koby is kissing his forehead and he feels the slightest pulse of relief. Luffy or Shanks or sacrifices or not - he did know how he felt about Koby. Koby who worried about him catching a cold. He scoffs.)
Honestly.
(He's never caught a cold in his life. He grabs Koby then, and stands up out of the tub, holding Koby in a classic bridal pose. He undoes the drain and steps out of the tub, sighing.)
That was less sexy than I had envisioned. (The tragedy of being emo. He sets Koby on the edge of his bathroom counter and reaches for two fluffy black towels. He wraps one around his waist before getting to work on patting Koby dry beeecause he can!)
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[Then he quiets, watching the tiny shifts in Mihawk's expression, the tightening of his jaw, the faraway look in his eye. There's more there than his and Luffy's history -- something deeper, older, something that Mihawk clearly doesn't want to talk about. Koby is desperately curious, but he can sense the weight of whatever it is, and wisely bites his lower lip and says nothing.
If Mihawk wants to say it, he will, eventually. Despite being obviously the stronger, more dominant one in this -- thing of theirs, Mihawk has let Koby take the lead in every actual decision, all the way back to the fireside ritual. Part of Koby is relieved by this, by the sense of control it gives him, but sometimes...he wishes Mihawk would ask things. Material comforts aside, Koby doesn't think Mihawk's very good at making requests. Even someone with a very high opinion of themselves can have low self-esteem in specific areas.
Still, there's visible exhaustion in the man's furrowed brow, the slight tension of his shoulders as Koby holds onto his neck. Now is not the time to get into a conversation as complex as their self-image issues. Koby smooths his thumb along Mihawk's jaw, soothingly, fretting a bit.] You look tired. Do you need any food before we go to bed?
[The comment makes Koby laugh, obligingly letting Mihawk towel him dry. Well, sort of -- he does make a nuisance of himself by stroking and petting the man's now-clean, fluffy wolf ears.] We can always try again when we're less tired. [Nuzzling one ear now, kissing the pointed tip, he murmurs:] Seeing you all wet and soapy was nice, though. Definitely my favorite part.
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(Mihawk didn't know how to talk to people about things. He never had and had never thought he would. It's true. He didn't ask things, didn't ask for help, didn't vocalize anything of the sort. Mostly he figured he could do things on his own. Whatever this thing between them was, it was only beginning to build better habits. Even if it didn't exactly feel like that right now.
It's nice to be soothed by Koby. Some of that tension relaxes and he decides he's done enough sulking for the past twenty-four-hours. Koby's fretting was sweet as ever and he relaxed even further at hearing his laugh.)
No, I'm fine. Do you need anything?
(He's pretty sure he ate a whole lot of something as a wolf and was still feeling that. His ears flick about on his head at the attention, and then Koby is nuzzling his ear, kissing it, and it's actually too much! The tragedy of wolf ears meant that he no longer blushed in the tips of his ears, but now, he blushed a bit across the bridge of his nose, an unfamiliar burning.)
I could say the same. (He reluctantly pulls away from Koby and removes his own towel because it just wasn't cutting it. He had to...He had to...
Mihawk proceeds to shake himself like a dog. Sorry, Koby, you're getting some spray back. He scrubs at his hair with one of the towels and then moves it to dry off his tail. Koby now gets to finally see the sight of a Mihawk without his hair slicked back. His hair is spiked and a bit long, and truthfully, he looks younger with his hair down. Maybe even softer. Mihawk pulls his towel away from his tail, approving of its dryness at last.)
Please tell me I don't smell like a wet dog. (Oh god.............
Thankfully he doesn't although his musky scent was a bit stronger.)
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[And then Mihawk is shaking himself off, spraying water all over and Koby's words break off in a squawk as the droplets splatter his glasses, his face again. He's about to lecture, about to get huffy, reaching up and furiously toweling off the lenses. But then he sees Mihawk's hair, loose and soft and tumbling around his face, pointed ears pricked in the middle, tail curling sleek and powerful, and of course the now-familiar splendor of his bare chest, his shoulders, his legs and stomach.
And Koby's seen Mihawk naked several times now. But something is different about this, the wolf features and the just-drying hair and the now-clean trail of fur down Mihawk's lean stomach. It's oddly vulnerable, like Koby's finally seeing behind the constantly put-together persona, like he's really seeing Mihawk for the first time.
His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment he can't speak. When he does, what he means to say is something about Mihawk smelling perfectly fine. What he does say is:] You're beautiful.
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He may be uncertain about their future, but he wasn't uncertain about Koby. Koby who was staring at him in that way, Koby who was looking at him like it was the first time he'd ever seen another person before. Mihawk's eyes are narrowed, but there's no anger in him. He's curious about that look, about what exactly is running through Koby's mind.
Then that comes out and Mihawk's head jerks back absently, surprise open on his face. Excuse you?!
A bit of heat fills back into his face but this time a healthy flush crawls into his chest too. Maybe it was the wolf's blood running far hotter, or maybe it was because no one alive had the audacity to call him things like beautiful - at least not to his face.
To someone who knew less, they might think he was looking at Koby with murderous intent, but really, it was just a moment of overwhelming emotion. He moves forward in a rush, grabbing Koby by his face and bringing their mouths together in a fierce sort of kiss. Every unsaid thing burned through the kiss.
Then he's pulling away in an embarrassed fashion, strolling out of the bathroom swiftly.)
Bring those panties.
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He knows that expression, but he's only ever seen glimpses of it in the most intense, heated moments he and Mihawk have had, and then only in passing. Now it stays, oddly softened by Mihawk's loose hair, the flush across his nose, the soft, pointed wolf ears. Koby finally manages to do something other than stare openly, a small smile curling across his face just as Mihawk leans forward and kisses him hard, ferocious.
There's a bright, delighted laugh as Mihawk strides out of the bathroom, and Koby's already calling after him:] You should be resting, you know. [But of course, when he joins Mihawk a few moments later, he's wearing the strawberry-print panties as directed, sitting low on his hips, clingy and silky and hiding absolutely nothing.]
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(Mihawk, he didn't mean that!
He's waiting for Koby. The moment he steps into view, Mihawk is growling appreciatively. An actual growl, something feral and animalistic. He really didn't appreciate this properly earlier.)
Oh. I do love how those look on you.
(He's waiting for Koby, standing over him, but now that Koby is near again...He gets the strongest instinct to just...
Get down onto his knees. Which he does in one fluid motion. His hands slide up the backs of Koby's thighs.)
You think I'm beautiful. Look at you.
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[But Koby doesn't have it in him to argue, not when Mihawk's looking at him like that, all hunger and raw, animal desire. He's slowly getting used to Mihawk's intense gaze, but the new wolf traits bring it to another level entirely. It thrills that new, animal-like part of Koby, terrifying and compelling all at once.
And then Mihawk goes down on his knees. And Koby's left breathless again, by the act of it, the show of submission from someone so huge, so powerful. He reaches out immediately, slides his fingers through Mihawk's hair, curling them through the loose strands. Then, tongue sliding across his lower lip in that unerring cue of how much he's enjoying something, Koby tugs firmly on Mihawk's hair, prompting him to look upwards.]
Good. I'm glad you like them. [There's a strange glint in his eyes, something almost -- possessive, free hand slowly reaching out to stroke along Mihawk's face, cradle his cheek. Koby's teased Mihawk before -- it's one of his favorite things, actually -- but he's never been this dominant in bed before. It's...kind of nice, having Mihawk on his knees, looking upwards, like a good boy.
That thought has Koby blushing immediately, ears and nose and cheeks. He clears his throat, runs a thumb along the ruffled elastic.] I liked these best. No daisy ones though. [Daisies are his favorite.]
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He gazes up at Koby with half-lidded eyes, something warm simmering through him. This was a new angle entirely and he finds that he loves looking up at Koby from his knees. Why had it taken so long to get here again? Never the occasion for it, he supposed. He had always taken the reigns and dominated every time they rolled into bed.
The sight of Koby's blush rouses a smug smirk, as if Mihawk could read his mind. He leans forward, humming, pressing his face against Koby's crotch. He breathes him in and having that deeper appreciation of scents is doing something completely new to his body. He winds up nuzzling in deep, rumbling low in his throat. Daises. What do daisies have to do with anything again?
His tongue slides out over the material, and Koby might find that his tongue was a bit different now too. Thicker, longer. He doesn't push past the material, but mouths at Koby. His instincts were screaming to claim and mark Koby as his. Any dread about Luffy or Shanks or their life back home was completely gone from his mind.)
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That's -- different. [The tongue he means, the size, the texture, the heat. It has Koby's stomach going tight, heat coursing through his body, pooling right where Mihawk's tongue is soaking through the fabric. He's shivering at how much he wants it, how every sense feels heightened, intensified.
Koby's blunt nails dig deeper into Mihawk's hair, and he breathes out, without pausing to think:] Wonder what else is different about you now?
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He winds up ripping away at Koby's panties, tearing the delicate fabric easily. His hands go to grip Koby's hips after, holding him up. He proceeds to slide that new tongue of his into the deepest part of Koby without any real effort. He could never get that deep with his regular tongue, but this one...
Then he just goes at Koby. He's drinking everything up, pumping his tongue in and out of Koby like he was something worth lapping at. There's an unhinged vigor, like he was a man starved who just discovered a feast and didn't know where to start. His eyes were starting to glow bright and his hands gripping Koby so hard they would no doubt leave marks. Again.)
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There are going to be bruises all around his hips, and Koby doesn't even remotely care, too busy riding the slick heat of Mihawk's tongue, knees going weak, breath coming in shuddery moans. The angle is brand new -- usually he's on his back when Mihawk eats him out -- and it's only that firm grip on his waist that keeps him upright.]
Good, so, s-so good... [Koby's gasping out, nails grazing the bases of Mihawk's ears, looking down at him with adoration and want and fondness. He's absolutely soaked against Mihawk's tongue, shivery pleasure through his whole body and the next words just sort of tumble out:] You're being so good for me.
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less hornysenses, he would look into finding some daisy pattern things for Koby. Mihawk is absolutely relishing in Koby, both his taste and the way he sounds above him. He loves the texture of Koby, sweeping his tongue faster through him until his own cheeks were dripping and a bit of Koby's wetness had dripped down his own chin.Being called good gets a solid wag from his tail and he huddles up closer against Koby. He somehow grips him harder and tongue-fucks him even deeper. This time he keeps his mouth clamped on Koby and just twists his tongue around inside of him. He licks alone his walls, curls his tongue, and flicks it back and forth. He lets out a low whining noise, huffing quietly because holy fuck was he hard.
But he was intent on getting Koby off first. Maybe a soft apology for being so miserable earlier. He slides his tongue slowly out of Koby before sweeping it up over his lips, around his clit, and sucks on that spot for a long moment, just pushing his tongue against it again and again before he's back to driving his tongue into Koby. He really couldn't get enough of it right now.)
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Who knows -- there's not room for anything except Koby's hands clutching at Mihawk's hair, his voice high and needy and sharp, begging or praising or somewhere in between. The grip on his hips is the one thing that keeps him upright when he finally comes with a shattered moan, shamelessly rutting against Mihawk's mouth, soaking his chin and beard once again, because apparently that's going to become a habit.
Feeling untethered, shaky, and not at all sated, Koby tugs hard at Mihawk's hair, breath raspy, eyes heated and dark and hungry.] Bed. R-Right now. [It's a command, skirting close to that compulsion and just barely holding back -- no time for teasing, he needs Mihawk inside him right that fucking second.]
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But then he realizes........
Maybe it's not so bad. He stands up and as he does, he just picks Koby up with him. Who needed to walk when your boyfriend could whisk you around as though you weighed absolutely nothing? He manhandles Koby onto the bed and immediately puts Koby on his stomach. Which is unusual for them, but he had some instincts going against his usual desire to stare Koby down while they fucked. Besides...
Koby does look lovely from behind. He lifts him up onto his knees and within seconds, his cock is sliding in deep, and as Koby had theorized, Mihawk was different here too. He was hotter, bigger, thicker. He growls again, hooking an arm around Koby's waist, curling protectively around his back as he begins to thrust into Koby.)
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