(Mihawk didn't need an invitation. Not with pirates, not with marines. He went where he wanted to and no one had any right to question him about it. Though he was far from a cruel man, he still took what he wanted and it had been a long time since he had seen something he had wanted to take so badly. Whenever he visited Garp, he rarely paid attention to the cadets that scurried about like ship rats.
This time though his attention had been drawn sharply to Garp's newest cadet and apparently a boy who just might wind up being Garp's new prodigy of sorts. To say he was intrigued would be an understatement. He had seen men and boys of all kinds from one edge of the world to the other. Beautiful men, handsome, cut, scrawny, muscled, skilled, stupid...He had taken a handful, but it wasn't something he rarely bothered with. He was as every bit cold as people assumed him to be - usually.
The boy, Koby, brought him back. Not that he announced that to anyone and he certainly didn't announce himself. He bypassed a dozen marines without so much as a single one noticing the infamous warlord. When he finds Koby, he doesn't bother making any sort of elaborate entrance. Just folds his arms over his chest and winds up leaning against the wall just beside Koby before the boy can even see him. Now that he's next to him, he delights silently in the guy's side profile. He had a nice nose.)
Your observational skills could use some work, cadet.
[Koby is -- thinking. He usually is, when he's not busy with other duties. He's thinking about everything he thought he knew, about how the marines and the pirates and the Warlords all fit together. He's thinking about how the Go board was probably a metaphor of some sort. He's thinking --
And then he's not, because there's someone right next to him and instead of thinking, he's making an incredibly undignified squawking noise that is not at all befitting of a marine.]
You -- don't do that, you -- [The identity of who he's talking to sinks in, and Koby almost reflexively salutes. But he stops, because this is a pirate. You don't salute pirates. So instead he sort of just stands there, glaring.] The -- the Vice Admiral is occupied. If that's. What you need.
(He states this coolly, examining his polished nails as if there was nothing else in the world more interesting. He's not the sort of man to crack a grin even if there's a flicker of amusement at the Koby's obvious surprise.)
I couldn't help but notice that last time I was here, the Vice Admiral seemed to have taken a liking to you. (He slowly looks Koby over, from head to toe, and then slowly back up, pausing deliberately on Koby's waistline before he finally looks up to the boy's eyes.)
I've known him for a rather long time. He doesn't take a liking to his cadets. It makes me wonder...What do you offer that man?
[Oh, he's big. Koby's roughly 5'6 (embarrassingly), but Mihawk is...so big. And dangerous. And the very picture of a pirate, from head to toe and every inch in between. And it should make any real marine's blood boil.
But it's having a very...very different effect on Koby right now. He's warm, but not with anger or righteous fury. More with the almost tangible feeling of the pirate's eyes gliding down, then up again. The cadet swallows hard, trying to stand tall, to seem intimidating.
It's not super effective when the very mention of the Vice Admiral liking him prompts a hopeful, eager grin.] He does? [Then, quickly, face reddening:] Not. He does not. N-No more than anyone else. I don't -- offer anything. I don't know what you're talking about.
(Why wouldn't the Vice Admiral like him? Those sweet eyes looking up with earnest desire for approval and understanding. Even the eager grin is endearing. Mihawk understands for a split second why others were so willing to take on students.
Ah. The blush. He feels a burning wave of warmth that nearly makes him growl. Only years of control kept him pinned to the wall rather than acting out on base instincts. He can't fully help himself though. He reaches his hand out and hooks a thumb under Koby's chin to lift his face up even further. He grips him so the cadet couldn't squirm away so easily.)
Oh? You really can't imagine why someone might want to keep a thing like you around?
(It was probably a little insulting to imply the cadet had no other merit than being pretty, but Mihawk wasn't here to be kind. He keeps his gaze on Koby, unwavering, unblinking.)
[That should be enough. Koby should jerk backwards and get as far away as possible -- maybe raise some sort of alarm, even though that'll likely just get him in trouble with the Vice Admiral. But he definitely shouldn't stand there, eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses, lips parted a little as the innuendo finally hits home. Koby might be innocent, inexperienced, but he did spend a while on a pirate ship. He understands when someone is implying what...Mihawk is implying.
And the blush intensifies, spreading like wildfire up the back of Koby's neck, his ears, his face, a more intense shade than his hair. Voice stammering, squeaking:] That is -- extremely inappropriate, sir. I would -- never think of the Vice Admiral like -- like that.
[Which is true. Because when Koby has those thoughts, they're always, always about pirates. Usually ones he knows (Luffy, most commonly, embarrassing and heartsick and wistful), but sometimes ones he's only seen on wanted posters (Buggy featured very prominently in his nighttime fantasies for a couple weeks). But it's always pirates. Always.]
(It would probably be the wiser choice, no doubt. But Koby had already proved to be a smarter cadet than most. Not a boy to blindly follow orders. He had a good head on his shoulders and could make his own decisions based off his own decisions. When that perfect mouth slides open in surprise, Mihawk has to stamp down the urge to slide a finger inside to see if his insides are as soft as he looks outside. He'd find out in due time, he thinks, given the blush on Koby's face.)
Why not? Not your type? The poor bastard is handsome in his own way.
(He doesn't quite smirk, but there's a lifted edge to his voice that suggests it.
Finally, he does slide his finger over that bottom lip, resting his thumb just against Koby's bottom teeth. Not quite in, but on the cusp.)
No, he wouldn't be your type, would he? He's too by the books. I think you like them a bit wild. Someone who doesn't bother with the rules.
That's -- [Koby's weak attempt at a protest breaks off into another of those shuddery breaths at the sudden press of the pirate's thumb against his lower lip. Taking what he wants, bold and daring and fearless. Like a pirate.
It doesn't matter that they're in a marine base, that anyone could come by and see. There's a tug of longing somewhere under the neat, starched uniform that Koby's so proud of. A desire that's just as potent as his dream to be a marine had been, but with an undertow of danger, like a hidden current hiding under a wave.
Swallowing hard, Koby looks up, unsure whether he's about to melt to pieces or bite down.] You -- don't know what I like. You don't know me. [But he knows -- they both know -- that the cadet isn't stepping away. Isn't raising the alarm. Hasn't left.]
(Oh, yes. He was most definitely right about this one. He's already starting to imagine how he was going to sound broken down and pulled apart.)
I don't.
(Mihawk steps forward and steadily winds up pressing Koby right up against the nearest wall. He presses his own body against the boy's and moves both hands now to simply cradle his face.)
But I'm going to.
(He leans down toward Koby, golden eyes even brighter up close.)
And you're going to let me.
(Again, not a question, but it also wasn't him forcing anything either. Because he wasn't an idiot. He knew that Koby wanted this. He knew what want looked like.)
Give me just an hour with you and I'll break you apart in ways you've never even imagined. What do you have to lose? (A beat. Finally, he does smirk.)
[There's another of those broken-off squeaky gasps as Mihawk suddenly pushes forward, tall and broad and warm, the heat of him pressing up against Koby and wrinkling the neatly-starched uniform. Beneath the rumpled tie, the boy's heart is racing a mile a minute -- but again, not with fear. He should be terrified. He should be begging for his life.
But he's not. Instead he's exhaling shakily at the warmth of those hands on his face, surrounded and wrapped up and consumed in the unyielding press of another body to his own. He can feel his head going fuzzy, wanting to close his eyes, wanting to surrender.
At the smirk, though, Koby forces his eyes open, manages a frown, even as his face turns bright red.]
Y-You don't. Know that I-I'm. That I've never. You don't know. [Yes, Koby. Yes he does. From that reaction alone.]
(A soft snort escapes Mihawk. The closest thing he has to a laugh. The boy still hadn't said no and Mihawk knew he wasn't going to. He ignores the words entirely then because he had no problem proving how right he was in other ways.
Instead, he finally brings his mouth to Koby's. He didn't always kiss the men he sought after. It was an overly intimate gesture, after all, but that didn't mean there wasn't a time and place for it. Koby seemed the sort who might enjoy kissing a lot.
And his mouth is soft. Mihawk, however, isn't. It's a firm kiss and one that hardly stays innocent for within seconds, Mihawk is sliding his lips apart to swipe his tongue against Koby's mouth, pressing in.)
[The most embarrassing thing is that this is pretty much exactly how Koby's secret hot pirate fantasies go -- someone forbidden, dangerous, mysterious (and usually wearing a hat) presses him up against a wall and kisses him senseless. It's the plot of countless cheap romance novels. It's cliched. It's tired out.
But actually experiencing it is something else entirely. Mihawk is insistent, relentless, mouth firm and experienced and demanding. Koby's whole body goes hot, knees buckling a little, hands coming up like he's about to push the pirate away.
He doesn't. He closes his eyes and fists both hands in Mihawk's (stupid, hot, impractical) coat and holds on and opens his mouth without resistance. He can feel his hat being pushed off, falling to the ground, and there's the vague concern that someone will find it and wonder. But it's passing, lost in the shivery, mind-melting sensation of someone else's tongue in his mouth, hot and filthy and sinful.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for koby
This time though his attention had been drawn sharply to Garp's newest cadet and apparently a boy who just might wind up being Garp's new prodigy of sorts. To say he was intrigued would be an understatement. He had seen men and boys of all kinds from one edge of the world to the other. Beautiful men, handsome, cut, scrawny, muscled, skilled, stupid...He had taken a handful, but it wasn't something he rarely bothered with. He was as every bit cold as people assumed him to be - usually.
The boy, Koby, brought him back. Not that he announced that to anyone and he certainly didn't announce himself. He bypassed a dozen marines without so much as a single one noticing the infamous warlord. When he finds Koby, he doesn't bother making any sort of elaborate entrance. Just folds his arms over his chest and winds up leaning against the wall just beside Koby before the boy can even see him. Now that he's next to him, he delights silently in the guy's side profile. He had a nice nose.)
Your observational skills could use some work, cadet.
not even waiting til i have decent icons lmao
And then he's not, because there's someone right next to him and instead of thinking, he's making an incredibly undignified squawking noise that is not at all befitting of a marine.]
You -- don't do that, you -- [The identity of who he's talking to sinks in, and Koby almost reflexively salutes. But he stops, because this is a pirate. You don't salute pirates. So instead he sort of just stands there, glaring.] The -- the Vice Admiral is occupied. If that's. What you need.
who needs icon when u have a horny agenda
(He states this coolly, examining his polished nails as if there was nothing else in the world more interesting. He's not the sort of man to crack a grin even if there's a flicker of amusement at the Koby's obvious surprise.)
I couldn't help but notice that last time I was here, the Vice Admiral seemed to have taken a liking to you. (He slowly looks Koby over, from head to toe, and then slowly back up, pausing deliberately on Koby's waistline before he finally looks up to the boy's eyes.)
I've known him for a rather long time. He doesn't take a liking to his cadets. It makes me wonder...What do you offer that man?
u understand
But it's having a very...very different effect on Koby right now. He's warm, but not with anger or righteous fury. More with the almost tangible feeling of the pirate's eyes gliding down, then up again. The cadet swallows hard, trying to stand tall, to seem intimidating.
It's not super effective when the very mention of the Vice Admiral liking him prompts a hopeful, eager grin.] He does? [Then, quickly, face reddening:] Not. He does not. N-No more than anyone else. I don't -- offer anything. I don't know what you're talking about.
no subject
(Why wouldn't the Vice Admiral like him? Those sweet eyes looking up with earnest desire for approval and understanding. Even the eager grin is endearing. Mihawk understands for a split second why others were so willing to take on students.
Ah. The blush. He feels a burning wave of warmth that nearly makes him growl. Only years of control kept him pinned to the wall rather than acting out on base instincts. He can't fully help himself though. He reaches his hand out and hooks a thumb under Koby's chin to lift his face up even further. He grips him so the cadet couldn't squirm away so easily.)
Oh? You really can't imagine why someone might want to keep a thing like you around?
(It was probably a little insulting to imply the cadet had no other merit than being pretty, but Mihawk wasn't here to be kind. He keeps his gaze on Koby, unwavering, unblinking.)
no subject
And the blush intensifies, spreading like wildfire up the back of Koby's neck, his ears, his face, a more intense shade than his hair. Voice stammering, squeaking:] That is -- extremely inappropriate, sir. I would -- never think of the Vice Admiral like -- like that.
[Which is true. Because when Koby has those thoughts, they're always, always about pirates. Usually ones he knows (Luffy, most commonly, embarrassing and heartsick and wistful), but sometimes ones he's only seen on wanted posters (Buggy featured very prominently in his nighttime fantasies for a couple weeks). But it's always pirates. Always.]
no subject
Why not? Not your type? The poor bastard is handsome in his own way.
(He doesn't quite smirk, but there's a lifted edge to his voice that suggests it.
Finally, he does slide his finger over that bottom lip, resting his thumb just against Koby's bottom teeth. Not quite in, but on the cusp.)
No, he wouldn't be your type, would he? He's too by the books. I think you like them a bit wild. Someone who doesn't bother with the rules.
no subject
It doesn't matter that they're in a marine base, that anyone could come by and see. There's a tug of longing somewhere under the neat, starched uniform that Koby's so proud of. A desire that's just as potent as his dream to be a marine had been, but with an undertow of danger, like a hidden current hiding under a wave.
Swallowing hard, Koby looks up, unsure whether he's about to melt to pieces or bite down.] You -- don't know what I like. You don't know me. [But he knows -- they both know -- that the cadet isn't stepping away. Isn't raising the alarm. Hasn't left.]
no subject
I don't.
(Mihawk steps forward and steadily winds up pressing Koby right up against the nearest wall. He presses his own body against the boy's and moves both hands now to simply cradle his face.)
But I'm going to.
(He leans down toward Koby, golden eyes even brighter up close.)
And you're going to let me.
(Again, not a question, but it also wasn't him forcing anything either. Because he wasn't an idiot. He knew that Koby wanted this. He knew what want looked like.)
Give me just an hour with you and I'll break you apart in ways you've never even imagined. What do you have to lose? (A beat. Finally, he does smirk.)
Besides your virginity, of course.
no subject
But he's not. Instead he's exhaling shakily at the warmth of those hands on his face, surrounded and wrapped up and consumed in the unyielding press of another body to his own. He can feel his head going fuzzy, wanting to close his eyes, wanting to surrender.
At the smirk, though, Koby forces his eyes open, manages a frown, even as his face turns bright red.]
Y-You don't. Know that I-I'm. That I've never. You don't know. [Yes, Koby. Yes he does. From that reaction alone.]
no subject
Instead, he finally brings his mouth to Koby's. He didn't always kiss the men he sought after. It was an overly intimate gesture, after all, but that didn't mean there wasn't a time and place for it. Koby seemed the sort who might enjoy kissing a lot.
And his mouth is soft. Mihawk, however, isn't. It's a firm kiss and one that hardly stays innocent for within seconds, Mihawk is sliding his lips apart to swipe his tongue against Koby's mouth, pressing in.)
no subject
But actually experiencing it is something else entirely. Mihawk is insistent, relentless, mouth firm and experienced and demanding. Koby's whole body goes hot, knees buckling a little, hands coming up like he's about to push the pirate away.
He doesn't. He closes his eyes and fists both hands in Mihawk's (stupid, hot, impractical) coat and holds on and opens his mouth without resistance. He can feel his hat being pushed off, falling to the ground, and there's the vague concern that someone will find it and wonder. But it's passing, lost in the shivery, mind-melting sensation of someone else's tongue in his mouth, hot and filthy and sinful.]