(His free hand automatically moves to Koby's waist to help steady him. He had a secret fondness for the way Koby had to stand up on his toes just to kiss Mihawk. As that weight settles against him, he moves his hand and encircles Koby's waist with his arm instead. Especially when the shivering begins. It spikes something hot and violent inside of Mihawk, and he almost regrets killing those men so swiftly. Perhaps drawing it out a bit would have been better.)
Good. (He kisses Koby again because he may or may not be relieved too.
That sweet face...Mihawk gazes back at Koby, unblinking, his expression unchanging . But there's a clenching twitch of his jaw to suggest he's not quite as composed as he seemed.)
Quite all right now.
(The closest thing he can give to admitting that he had been...anxious.)
Come here. (He exhales slowly, and with one easy motion, he's scooping Koby up into his arms, bridal style, holding him close. He would blame it on Koby being wobbly.)
Let's get you back to my room. I do recall you said you were drinking for a reason, after all. Perhaps you will be able to enlighten me once we're there.
[Normally being carried as if he's small and delicate has Koby squawking and protesting -- especially when it's Mihawk. He suspects that this is part of why the pirate insists on doing it so often.
But right now he's trembling too hard to argue, letting himself be scooped up and held, breath shuddering, bruised hand curled to his chest. Still, he reaches out, traces his un-injured fingers across Mihawk's clenched jaw, like he's trying to soothe the tension.] You were worried?
[There's an undeniable note of hope in his voice -- the alcohols doing. That's why. That's the only reason why.
That's also why Koby bluntly answers:] I wanted to get up the courage to come surprise you. I had a whole plan. I practiced.
the way this ship has me in a chokehold and is giving me a new personality trait-
I don't get worried. (Is Mihawk's immediate rebuttal, quick enough to be obviously defensive and he nearly wants to curse himself. Instead, he finds himself trying to relax as Koby's finger skirts over his jaw. He glances at Koby and clears his throat, backtracking reluctantly.)
...But...I suppose I was not happy with the idea of you being caught in a situation like that, no.
(It wasn't just a possessiveness either. He just loathed the idea of anyone hurting Koby...Especially like that. But he's a dangerous man and admitting to such a thing would be even more dangerous. If anyone knew he had this soft spot, they would rush to exploit it. And Koby was the only soft spot he had ever had in his life. He holds him a bit tighter.)
Oh? (An elegant eyebrow is raised.)
Did you now? (A slight smile lifts the corner of his mouth.)
And what did this plan consist of exactly? (He was walking swiftly, cutting through alleys to get them back to his place quicker, but his attention was on Koby and Koby alone.)
seriously like my entire heart and soul and mind tbh???
Oh. [It's soft, wondering, Koby's fingers resting on Mihawk's jaw for another moment. Then he leans in, rests his cheek against the warlord's shoulder. He has to think about that, untangle the different emotions it prompts inside him -- hope, mostly, helpless and wild and fervent. But it's hard to think about anything else, not with Mihawk holding him, chasing away the fear and discomfort.
Koby absently let's his fingers trail down the side of Mihawk's neck, the shivering slowly ebbing away, replaced again with the warm confidence from too many shots.] I can't tell you. It requires a practical demonstration.
[Only Koby would insist on proper protocol when post-murder flirting.]
(Mihawk doesn't know which is worse: the tone Koby says 'oh' in or the feeling of him resting his cheek against his shoulder. Mihawk was not familiar with such tenderness and it makes his mind go completely blank. The little touches to his neck, the way he could feel Koby relaxing against him does something to him that was far more effective than even their most passionate nights together.
He holds Koby a little tighter.)
I see.
(There's the slightest suggestion of amusement in his voice.
This behavior was precisely why Koby was so good for him, okay.)
Then I shall wait with bated breath.
(Thankfully it doesn't take that long to reach their destination. He gets the door open to his room without trouble and slips inside, kicking it shut quietly behind him. Before setting Koby down, he tips his head and presses his mouth against Koby's forehead. He probably wouldn't have done that if Koby were more sober, but alas, he's still feeling a bit off-kilter from the whole situation.
He carefully sets him down.)
Now. For your practical demonstration would you prefer I sit or stand?
[Even if the alcohol blocks out everything else, Koby will remember that -- the press of Mihawk's lips to his forehead, the softness of it, the tenderness. It might make waking up alone in this room a bit easier.
For now, though, he's a tipsy man on a mission. After a moment of wobbling to get his balance, he waves Mihawk towards the bed, impatient and tipsy.]
Sit. Sitting is -- better. [He's bright red, already rethinking things, but -- well, Mihawk has already committed murder for him today. Why not follow through and return the favor.
Taking a deep breath, Koby slowly starts to undress, pulling off his tie and hat and unbuttoning his shirt.]
Yes, sir. (Said in mockery, but followed up with obedience. He sits on the bed's edge, his bright eyes focused intently on Koby. His focus becomes razor-sharp as Koby begins to undress.
This was pretty much the only reason they got together alone, so he's not surprised, but he is surprised by how endearing and attractive the display manages to be at the same time.)
I do love watching you undress.
(An appreciative murmur, but otherwise he's silent, already captivated by Koby's little plan here.)
Shhhh. [Koby scowls, looking not the least bit ferocious, consiserinh he's simultaneously fussily folding his uniform. After all, he doesn't want to get written up for wrinkles. Shirt unbuttoned, Koby hesitates for a moment before slowly pulling off the sleeveless undershirt he wears underneath the neatly starched button-down.
And that's -- new. Despite the multiple times they've gone to bed together, and the fact that Mihawk's mouth has been on every other inch of his body, Koby's always insisted on keeping this piece of clothing on. It's sort of illogical, considering that Mihawk knows perfectly (and intimately) well exactly how Koby is made and what's between his legs. And, for all that the warlord can be maddening and frustrating, he's never once treated Koby as less of a man.
Maybe that's why Koby's doing this, finally letting himself be completely bare, for the first time. His shoulders are hunched forward, hands curling into fists so he doesn't instinctively cover his chest, and the jagged scars there. Though fully healed, it's clear whatever surgery left them was not careful or finessed -- the scarring is thick, deep red, still, and uneven where it stretches over Koby's ribs.
It's not a part of himself that the young marine is especially proud of. But -- Mihawk's somehow made him feel desired and cherished in an hundred different ways. Against all odds, Koby trusts him with this.]
(Mihawk behaves for once and falls silent. Perhaps he was just in a good mood tonight or maybe, more than likely, he was in the mood to give Koby just about anything he asked for.
His brows do raise ever so slightly when Koby strips entirely down. It is new and he's swift to realize where the significance might be. The way Koby curls over and acts as though Mihawk might cast him aside immediately for such vulnerability. He understands now why Koby might have needed the alcohol and something in him becomes softer than crushed velvet.
His eyes wander freely, taking in the jagged scarring, and truly, he sees them no different than the scars most pirates wore except perhaps these scars were undoubtedly of braver stuff. Mihawk lets out a faint breath before he raises a hand and beckons to Koby.)
Come closer. (He needed to make up for lost time.)
[There's a brief thrill of fear, an insidious whispering voice that hisses he's disgusted with you now, see, he'll reject you, like you always knew he would, like everyone does-- but Koby's already stepping forward. Maybe it's the liquid courage or an ingrained obedience moving his feet.
But more likely it's the lingering sensation of Mihawk's lips pressed to his forehead, the memory of that tensing jaw, the tiniest giveaway that yes, he'd been worried. This one is the closest thing I have to a treasure.
Koby will realize later that he's already too far gone, that maybe he has been this whole time, but those words had clinched it.
Now, though, he steps forward until he's standing between Mihawk's knees, shivering a little with nerves. They're nearly the same height, with the pirate sitting. Somehow it's reassuring to be able to see those eyes directly, see how they take in the jagged, inexpert scars.]
I -- bribed the ship's doctor with two bottles of rum. After a year on Alvida's ship. She was furious. The doctor ended up dead. [The words are flat, emotionless.]
(He rumbles smoothly as Koby comes between his knees. He automatically slides his hands over Koby's hips and up the small of his back. He doesn't look away from Koby for one second, understanding that this is valuable. This was proof of Koby's defiance and courage even in the worst of situations. It fans the flames that had already been burning inside of Mihawk for some time now.)
Hmm. (He smiles ever so slightly, a rare genuine one, something akin to pride in his eyes.)
Only you would spit in the eye of such a foul-tempered pirate to chase after what you truly want.
(Nothing but admiration.)
That might just be my favorite thing about you, did you know? (He lowers his gaze to Koby's chest and bows his head to kiss the edge of one of those scars.)
Maybe you're not as strong as me. (Physically. No one really was. But...)
You're just as driven. In a different way, but you certainly have no intention of letting anything stand in your path.
(He moves to kiss the other scar, skimming his mouth across it, peppering kisses until finally he lifts his head and brings their mouths together in a short kiss.)
Would you like me to kill her for you? (It's an earnest offer. And perhaps a silent gesture of love if there ever was one.)
[As soon as those big hands are on him, sliding around to his back, warm and callused and familiar, Koby doesn't know why he was worried at all. He doesn't presume to know Mihawk deeply -- he doesn't actually know if that's possible -- but he knows enough. He knows that courage and determination are highly prized, admired, no matter who they come from. It's why Mihawk had let the Straw Hat swordsman live, why he'd let Luffy go.
Koby doesn't think much of himself, but he knows he's good at surviving. And at standing up when push comes to shove, no matter how terrifying.
The touch of lips on his scars gets a soft shiver, both hands coming up to rest at the back of Mihawk's neck, toying with his hair. There aren't words for what the gesture means, the acceptance, the warmth. But it's written all over Koby's face.
He huffs out an amused sound at the murder offer, though something dark glints in his eyes for a fraction of a second. If there was anyone he'd want to kill, it'd be Alvida, a fact that sickens him. Finally he shakes his head.]
It was a long time ago. She didn't hurt me, she just said if I wanted this so bad, I had to deal with the consequences. No shirking duties to heal up. [The bitterness is back in his voice.] I tore my stitches probably -- seven, eight times. That's why the scars are so...ugly.
[Does Koby realize that by talking about Alvida's reaction, Mihawk's going to want to kill her anyway? Maybe...]
(Even though Koby shakes his head, Mihawk makes a mental note to keep a closer tab on Alvida. He could make her life a living nightmare at the very least and when he finally got disatisfied with that, he could kill her. Because yeah, he was absolutely going to kill her anyway.)
Ugly?
(Bloodlust for Alvida aside, mild surprise slips into his voice. He eases back to look Koby in the eye, his brow furrowed slightly. He shakes his head, guiding his hands to Koby's sides before he traces said scars with his thumbs.)
The only kind of ugly scars in this world are ones that represent failure.
(Scars on the back of a swordsman, for example, but not these. Never these. He gazes at them directly then, from side to side.)
These are perseverance. There is never anything ugly about that.
(He's not just being kind. He believes this wholly, and again, he kisses the scars. But this time, he stops to open his mouth against one of Koby's nipples and give it a gentle suck. He's not sure if Koby would be into the gesture, but only one way to find out. If he needed to, he would build up Koby's esteem about his chest. It was such a beautiful one - just like the rest of him, really. It was a crime for Koby to think otherwise.)
[Of course Koby's about to argue (when is he not, really, it's sort of a constant state with Mihawk), and insist that if not ugly, they're certainly not pretty, but those words stop him. Mihawk isn't the type to waste energy on empty flattery. So if he's saying these things...
He must mean them. That, more than anything, staggers Koby, coupled with the realization of just how deep in this he is. How it's no longer a passing, trivial fling. How maybe it never was.
And then all thoughts are driven away by the dizzying shock of pleasure from Mihawk's mouth on his chest. The sound Koby makes -- a gasping, needy sort of whine -- is deeply embarrassing, but he doesn't care. It's been years since anyone's touched his chest, including himself, and he'd half-believed the inexpert surgery would've resulted in a loss of feeling there.
But it definitely hasn't. If anything, Koby's especially sensitive now, knees literally buckling as his nails dig into the back of Mihawk's neck for stability.]
How did -- that isn't. That's. New. [Koby sort of gasps it out, shivering all over for a completely different reason.]
(Mihawk had a hunch that Koby had a bit of a kink for arguing with Mihawk. He endlessly humored the boy partially because it was cute seeing Koby get riled up about anything, and partly because he actually was that patient with Koby. He was worth the patience.
Anything about Koby struck Mihawk as beautiful. He hadn't been lying when he said he was his ultimate treasure. More valuable than the dozens of rare jewels and treasures he had found in his time as the world's greatest swordsman. More intriguing to Mihawk than the fabled one piece.
Ah. What fun they could have been having this entire time...No matter. Mihawk was good at making up for lost time. He sucks harder on Koby's nipple until he can feel it pebbled against his tongue. He smirks.)
Mmm. (He pops off of the nipple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. )
Is it? (A bored drawl as he moves to Koby's other nipple to clamp down on. He sucks that one to hardness too, his other hand sliding up to play with the nipple he wasn't sucking at. He lets go of both, leaning back, exhaling slowly.)
I hope you don't expect to go anywhere else for the evening. You owe me. (His hands have gone to the waist of Koby's pants, already working them open and sliding them down over his hips.)
[Koby would likewise argue that Mihawk had a kink for riling him up -- everything about the warlord was maddening, like it was specially tailored to make Koby lose control. In softer moments, that actually makes him feel sort of flattered, which is probably a sign he's too far gone.
Right now, though, the teasing of Mihawk's mouth and long, clever fingers against his nipples is enough to completely block out any other thoughts. Koby's hands are knotted in Mihawk's hair by the time the pirate's done, simply to keep himself upright.
There isn't even a token protest, just a wordless, whimpering sound -- yes, he owes Mihawk, he'll make it up to him, anything he wants, anything. Koby always gets to this point, beyond his reservations, beyond thinking about anything that isn't Mihawk, Mihawk's hands, Mihawk's mouth, Mihawk's cock inside him.
So he gladly steps out of the rest of his clothes, knees wobbly, thighs trembling, so turned on that his boring, Marine-issued underwear clings like a second skin, absolutely drenched.
But he does find the words to gasp out:]
Not...done with the surprise yet. [One trembling hand reaches for Mihawk's, grabbing and guiding it around, pushing down the soaked underwear at the same time so the pirate can feel the unmistakable shape of a plug, nestled snugly inside Koby's ass.
(A fair argument, really, and completely true. Mihawk had a kink for anything involving Koby these days. Koby has become almost as familiar to him as his sword and he wasn't always sure what to do with that information. He had never exactly pictured someone for him in the life he led.
Yet here he was. Stopping by wherever Koby may be more often than he has ever bothered to stop by anyone else. He watches Koby step out of his pants, devouring him plainly in sight, his eyes soaking in how wet Koby evidently already was.
But then his eyes raise up to Koby, brows quirked in mute surprise.)
Oh...?
(Then he's being guided and when his fingers brush against something hard, he has to take an actual moment to remind himself to breathe. It's far from the first time he's ever encountered a toy like this, but he would have never in all his life imagined Koby would know about that sort of thing let alone use it.
There's an unmistakable glimmer in Mihawk's eyes. Full of surprises indeed. Were he a lesser man or infinitely younger, his stoic expression may have cracked.
He lets out a breath and moves to stand instead.)
You.
(A deeper breath. He lifts Koby off the ground and moves him onto the bed in one effortless motion, laying Koby against his back, sliding onto the bed after him.)
Are the most delightful creature I've ever discovered.
(An understatement. He moves south at once, stripping Koby of that standard underwear and tossing it aside.)
[Somehow Koby maintains the innocent, doe-eyed expression, even pausing to push his glasses up his nose with one finger. He'd been very businesslike about the whole thing -- he'd done research, finding that while the Marine library had almost nothing on the subject, there were plenty of side street stores with limitless knowledge. He may or may not have made a list of pros and cons of various toys (and almost definitely had to frantically tear said list to pieces when Helmeppo found it).
But it's all worth it for that reaction -- it's subtle, like everything Mihawk says and does, notable only in the slight brightening of those intense golden eyes. But by now, Koby has learned to read those signs, knows that he's thrown the pirate off balance, genuinely surprised him. It's a delightful, addictive feeling.
Being manhandled onto the bed is equally enjoyable, albeit much more familiar. It even gets a slightly tipsy, breathless laugh from the young cadet, who reaches out immediately, shaky fingers stroking along Mihawk's sharp cheek, his jaw.]
Good surprise? [There's a sweet, genuine note of hope in his voice, an eagerness to be praised that Koby can't ever pretend he doesn't possess. He craves every bit of approval, every sweet word, even more so because Mihawk rarely gives them. Being called things like delightful and treasure mean even more because of their rarity.]
(Koby is cute tipsy, Mihawk discovers. He should get him drunk more often for this side of Koby. He settles down against Koby and kisses him firmly, already hard against Koby's hip. It really would have been a disaster if those two men had had their way with Koby in the alleyway...Finding him with this toy inside of him. It occurs to Mihawk then that Koby had planned to come over and...
What a minx. He grins against Koby, hiding the rare expression in their kiss as he slides his tongue into Koby's mouth. As he kisses him, he strips himself of his own pants and his hat. Everything gets tossed aside without a care, a rarity as well from Mihawk, but there are more important things to appreciate right now than neatness.
He breaks their kiss to begin kissing down the length of Koby's neck. Once he reaches his chest, he takes care with sucking at each nipple yet again, one after the other before repeating.)
Have you ever- (A pause between licks.)
Taken a man like that before? (He's doubtful, but he wants to make sure anyway. Granted, the plug would have taken care of most of the work, but still. Some people were rather skittish about that sort of thing.)
[There's a very satisfied, smug look on Koby's face, triumphant at the success. Definitely worth all the research, not to mention figuring out how to actually use the toy. He'd said he'd been practicing, after all, no easy feat in a Marine base.
But it's all worth it, having the long, lean, muscled form of Mihawk pressed against him, kissing him deep and possessive. Even the alleyway is forgotten, in favor of Koby getting his hands all up in the pirate's hair, pulling him even closer, panting against his mouth when they finally pull apart.
And then Mihawk is moving back downwards, and Koby has truly created a monster. A chest-tormenting monster. The question comes in between those teasing, maddening licks and sucks, each one sending electric pulses of pleasure right down the young cadet's spine, pooling hot between his legs.
And Koby's so distracted, so thoroughly caught up in how good it feels that he tells the truth without thinking, breathless and whimpering:] N-No. Never been with -- anyone else, s-so.
[Which Mihawk probably already guessed, but this is the first time Koby's admitted it aloud.]
(No, Mihawk could imagine not. Not with how nosey some cadets were known to be. CoughcoughKOBYcough. What really makes Mihawk's blood run hot is perhaps the idea that Koby was thinking extensively about him in his downtime.
Enough to do the research. Enough to get the toy. Enough to practice. It makes something simmering hot flow through his chest and threatens to capsize his better sensibilities.
It's what causes him to physically pause over Koby.
It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Koby really was not the sort of guy who struck Mihawk as the sort to sleep around. Too dedicated to his duties and too shy. Still too insecure. They had never once discussed anything like commitment - why would they? They had only ever fallen together for the sake of sex, after all.
Yet something like relief creeps into Mihawk anyway. It's a foolish, stupid emotion. He was a grown man. If Koby had wanted to sleep with other men, it wouldn't have been surprising. By the sea gods, he knew he was hardly Koby's ideal sort. No, Mihawk always figured that title was reserved for the likes of Luffy.
Knowing that Koby hadn't though...He feels elated. He hadn't slept with anyone else since entering this thing with Koby either. But he was never a particularly sexual man to begin with. He doesn't realize he's come back up to look Koby in the eye, something bright and nearly starved in his gaze, uncharacteristically open for Mihawk. He grabs him by the jaw and gives him a firm kiss. One that speaks volumes: Good. You better not.)
You know who you belong to then. (A growl of words, utterly satisfied.)
[If Koby was more sober, the pause would've worried him, prompted a downward spiral of concern that was unfortunately very characteristic of him. As it is, though, all it makes him do is huff in annoyance that Mihawk's stopped doing that truly exquisite thing with his tongue.
But then the pirate is rising back up, meeting Koby's eyes, and it's surprisingly easy to read the emotion there -- dangerous and fierce as always, but also alight with a hunger Koby usually only catches glimpses of. It makes him relieved that his glasses are still in place -- he'd tried to take them off, the first time, but apparently Mihawk liked them? Strange.
In response to the look, there's an almost shy smile. Now that it's out there -- there hasn't been anyone else, there isn't now -- Koby isn't sure why he'd been so desperate to keep that secret. Because it's the truth. Luffy is -- both complex and breathtakingly simple, a symbol of all the things Koby had been too afraid to pursue for years. He's idealistic and unattainable, like trying to touch the sun.
Mihawk is intimidating, but he's real. He's flesh and heat and pleasure and sweat. Koby can reach out and touch him, know he's real. There's something about him that's addictive, that stokes the feverish hunger Koby usually tries to pretend he doesn't have.
The firm, hard kiss, the grip on his chin does that as well, sending the cadet into luxurious shivers. He's already soaked, has been since they got here, thighs pressing together to try and alleviate the insistent pulse of desire that Mihawk's words bring.]
Mmmhmm. [It's barely words, mumbled against the warlord's mouth, some irrational part of Koby wanting that hand to bruise his face, leave some physical reminder of the ferociously possessive words.]
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Good. (He kisses Koby again because he may or may not be relieved too.
That sweet face...Mihawk gazes back at Koby, unblinking, his expression unchanging . But there's a clenching twitch of his jaw to suggest he's not quite as composed as he seemed.)
Quite all right now.
(The closest thing he can give to admitting that he had been...anxious.)
Come here. (He exhales slowly, and with one easy motion, he's scooping Koby up into his arms, bridal style, holding him close. He would blame it on Koby being wobbly.)
Let's get you back to my room. I do recall you said you were drinking for a reason, after all. Perhaps you will be able to enlighten me once we're there.
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But right now he's trembling too hard to argue, letting himself be scooped up and held, breath shuddering, bruised hand curled to his chest. Still, he reaches out, traces his un-injured fingers across Mihawk's clenched jaw, like he's trying to soothe the tension.] You were worried?
[There's an undeniable note of hope in his voice -- the alcohols doing. That's why. That's the only reason why.
That's also why Koby bluntly answers:] I wanted to get up the courage to come surprise you. I had a whole plan. I practiced.
the way this ship has me in a chokehold and is giving me a new personality trait-
...But...I suppose I was not happy with the idea of you being caught in a situation like that, no.
(It wasn't just a possessiveness either. He just loathed the idea of anyone hurting Koby...Especially like that. But he's a dangerous man and admitting to such a thing would be even more dangerous. If anyone knew he had this soft spot, they would rush to exploit it. And Koby was the only soft spot he had ever had in his life. He holds him a bit tighter.)
Oh? (An elegant eyebrow is raised.)
Did you now? (A slight smile lifts the corner of his mouth.)
And what did this plan consist of exactly? (He was walking swiftly, cutting through alleys to get them back to his place quicker, but his attention was on Koby and Koby alone.)
seriously like my entire heart and soul and mind tbh???
Koby absently let's his fingers trail down the side of Mihawk's neck, the shivering slowly ebbing away, replaced again with the warm confidence from too many shots.] I can't tell you. It requires a practical demonstration.
[Only Koby would insist on proper protocol when post-murder flirting.]
it has EVERYTHING going for it
He holds Koby a little tighter.)
I see.
(There's the slightest suggestion of amusement in his voice.
This behavior was precisely why Koby was so good for him, okay.)
Then I shall wait with bated breath.
(Thankfully it doesn't take that long to reach their destination. He gets the door open to his room without trouble and slips inside, kicking it shut quietly behind him. Before setting Koby down, he tips his head and presses his mouth against Koby's forehead. He probably wouldn't have done that if Koby were more sober, but alas, he's still feeling a bit off-kilter from the whole situation.
He carefully sets him down.)
Now. For your practical demonstration would you prefer I sit or stand?
literally I have a 32 song playlist for them
For now, though, he's a tipsy man on a mission. After a moment of wobbling to get his balance, he waves Mihawk towards the bed, impatient and tipsy.]
Sit. Sitting is -- better. [He's bright red, already rethinking things, but -- well, Mihawk has already committed murder for him today. Why not follow through and return the favor.
Taking a deep breath, Koby slowly starts to undress, pulling off his tie and hat and unbuttoning his shirt.]
u must share it with me
This was pretty much the only reason they got together alone, so he's not surprised, but he is surprised by how endearing and attractive the display manages to be at the same time.)
I do love watching you undress.
(An appreciative murmur, but otherwise he's silent, already captivated by Koby's little plan here.)
careful what u wish for xoxo
And that's -- new. Despite the multiple times they've gone to bed together, and the fact that Mihawk's mouth has been on every other inch of his body, Koby's always insisted on keeping this piece of clothing on. It's sort of illogical, considering that Mihawk knows perfectly (and intimately) well exactly how Koby is made and what's between his legs. And, for all that the warlord can be maddening and frustrating, he's never once treated Koby as less of a man.
Maybe that's why Koby's doing this, finally letting himself be completely bare, for the first time. His shoulders are hunched forward, hands curling into fists so he doesn't instinctively cover his chest, and the jagged scars there. Though fully healed, it's clear whatever surgery left them was not careful or finessed -- the scarring is thick, deep red, still, and uneven where it stretches over Koby's ribs.
It's not a part of himself that the young marine is especially proud of. But -- Mihawk's somehow made him feel desired and cherished in an hundred different ways. Against all odds, Koby trusts him with this.]
<3
His brows do raise ever so slightly when Koby strips entirely down. It is new and he's swift to realize where the significance might be. The way Koby curls over and acts as though Mihawk might cast him aside immediately for such vulnerability. He understands now why Koby might have needed the alcohol and something in him becomes softer than crushed velvet.
His eyes wander freely, taking in the jagged scarring, and truly, he sees them no different than the scars most pirates wore except perhaps these scars were undoubtedly of braver stuff. Mihawk lets out a faint breath before he raises a hand and beckons to Koby.)
Come closer. (He needed to make up for lost time.)
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But more likely it's the lingering sensation of Mihawk's lips pressed to his forehead, the memory of that tensing jaw, the tiniest giveaway that yes, he'd been worried. This one is the closest thing I have to a treasure.
Koby will realize later that he's already too far gone, that maybe he has been this whole time, but those words had clinched it.
Now, though, he steps forward until he's standing between Mihawk's knees, shivering a little with nerves. They're nearly the same height, with the pirate sitting. Somehow it's reassuring to be able to see those eyes directly, see how they take in the jagged, inexpert scars.]
I -- bribed the ship's doctor with two bottles of rum. After a year on Alvida's ship. She was furious. The doctor ended up dead. [The words are flat, emotionless.]
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(He rumbles smoothly as Koby comes between his knees. He automatically slides his hands over Koby's hips and up the small of his back. He doesn't look away from Koby for one second, understanding that this is valuable. This was proof of Koby's defiance and courage even in the worst of situations. It fans the flames that had already been burning inside of Mihawk for some time now.)
Hmm. (He smiles ever so slightly, a rare genuine one, something akin to pride in his eyes.)
Only you would spit in the eye of such a foul-tempered pirate to chase after what you truly want.
(Nothing but admiration.)
That might just be my favorite thing about you, did you know? (He lowers his gaze to Koby's chest and bows his head to kiss the edge of one of those scars.)
Maybe you're not as strong as me. (Physically. No one really was. But...)
You're just as driven. In a different way, but you certainly have no intention of letting anything stand in your path.
(He moves to kiss the other scar, skimming his mouth across it, peppering kisses until finally he lifts his head and brings their mouths together in a short kiss.)
Would you like me to kill her for you? (It's an earnest offer. And perhaps a silent gesture of love if there ever was one.)
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Koby doesn't think much of himself, but he knows he's good at surviving. And at standing up when push comes to shove, no matter how terrifying.
The touch of lips on his scars gets a soft shiver, both hands coming up to rest at the back of Mihawk's neck, toying with his hair. There aren't words for what the gesture means, the acceptance, the warmth. But it's written all over Koby's face.
He huffs out an amused sound at the murder offer, though something dark glints in his eyes for a fraction of a second. If there was anyone he'd want to kill, it'd be Alvida, a fact that sickens him. Finally he shakes his head.]
It was a long time ago. She didn't hurt me, she just said if I wanted this so bad, I had to deal with the consequences. No shirking duties to heal up. [The bitterness is back in his voice.] I tore my stitches probably -- seven, eight times. That's why the scars are so...ugly.
[Does Koby realize that by talking about Alvida's reaction, Mihawk's going to want to kill her anyway? Maybe...]
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Ugly?
(Bloodlust for Alvida aside, mild surprise slips into his voice. He eases back to look Koby in the eye, his brow furrowed slightly. He shakes his head, guiding his hands to Koby's sides before he traces said scars with his thumbs.)
The only kind of ugly scars in this world are ones that represent failure.
(Scars on the back of a swordsman, for example, but not these. Never these. He gazes at them directly then, from side to side.)
These are perseverance. There is never anything ugly about that.
(He's not just being kind. He believes this wholly, and again, he kisses the scars. But this time, he stops to open his mouth against one of Koby's nipples and give it a gentle suck. He's not sure if Koby would be into the gesture, but only one way to find out. If he needed to, he would build up Koby's esteem about his chest. It was such a beautiful one - just like the rest of him, really. It was a crime for Koby to think otherwise.)
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He must mean them. That, more than anything, staggers Koby, coupled with the realization of just how deep in this he is. How it's no longer a passing, trivial fling. How maybe it never was.
And then all thoughts are driven away by the dizzying shock of pleasure from Mihawk's mouth on his chest. The sound Koby makes -- a gasping, needy sort of whine -- is deeply embarrassing, but he doesn't care. It's been years since anyone's touched his chest, including himself, and he'd half-believed the inexpert surgery would've resulted in a loss of feeling there.
But it definitely hasn't. If anything, Koby's especially sensitive now, knees literally buckling as his nails dig into the back of Mihawk's neck for stability.]
How did -- that isn't. That's. New. [Koby sort of gasps it out, shivering all over for a completely different reason.]
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Anything about Koby struck Mihawk as beautiful. He hadn't been lying when he said he was his ultimate treasure. More valuable than the dozens of rare jewels and treasures he had found in his time as the world's greatest swordsman. More intriguing to Mihawk than the fabled one piece.
Ah. What fun they could have been having this entire time...No matter. Mihawk was good at making up for lost time. He sucks harder on Koby's nipple until he can feel it pebbled against his tongue. He smirks.)
Mmm. (He pops off of the nipple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. )
Is it? (A bored drawl as he moves to Koby's other nipple to clamp down on. He sucks that one to hardness too, his other hand sliding up to play with the nipple he wasn't sucking at. He lets go of both, leaning back, exhaling slowly.)
I hope you don't expect to go anywhere else for the evening. You owe me. (His hands have gone to the waist of Koby's pants, already working them open and sliding them down over his hips.)
For wandering off down a dark alley by yourself.
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Right now, though, the teasing of Mihawk's mouth and long, clever fingers against his nipples is enough to completely block out any other thoughts. Koby's hands are knotted in Mihawk's hair by the time the pirate's done, simply to keep himself upright.
There isn't even a token protest, just a wordless, whimpering sound -- yes, he owes Mihawk, he'll make it up to him, anything he wants, anything. Koby always gets to this point, beyond his reservations, beyond thinking about anything that isn't Mihawk, Mihawk's hands, Mihawk's mouth, Mihawk's cock inside him.
So he gladly steps out of the rest of his clothes, knees wobbly, thighs trembling, so turned on that his boring, Marine-issued underwear clings like a second skin, absolutely drenched.
But he does find the words to gasp out:]
Not...done with the surprise yet. [One trembling hand reaches for Mihawk's, grabbing and guiding it around, pushing down the soaked underwear at the same time so the pirate can feel the unmistakable shape of a plug, nestled snugly inside Koby's ass.
Full of surprises today, apparently.]
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Yet here he was. Stopping by wherever Koby may be more often than he has ever bothered to stop by anyone else. He watches Koby step out of his pants, devouring him plainly in sight, his eyes soaking in how wet Koby evidently already was.
But then his eyes raise up to Koby, brows quirked in mute surprise.)
Oh...?
(Then he's being guided and when his fingers brush against something hard, he has to take an actual moment to remind himself to breathe. It's far from the first time he's ever encountered a toy like this, but he would have never in all his life imagined Koby would know about that sort of thing let alone use it.
There's an unmistakable glimmer in Mihawk's eyes. Full of surprises indeed. Were he a lesser man or infinitely younger, his stoic expression may have cracked.
He lets out a breath and moves to stand instead.)
You.
(A deeper breath. He lifts Koby off the ground and moves him onto the bed in one effortless motion, laying Koby against his back, sliding onto the bed after him.)
Are the most delightful creature I've ever discovered.
(An understatement. He moves south at once, stripping Koby of that standard underwear and tossing it aside.)
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But it's all worth it for that reaction -- it's subtle, like everything Mihawk says and does, notable only in the slight brightening of those intense golden eyes. But by now, Koby has learned to read those signs, knows that he's thrown the pirate off balance, genuinely surprised him. It's a delightful, addictive feeling.
Being manhandled onto the bed is equally enjoyable, albeit much more familiar. It even gets a slightly tipsy, breathless laugh from the young cadet, who reaches out immediately, shaky fingers stroking along Mihawk's sharp cheek, his jaw.]
Good surprise? [There's a sweet, genuine note of hope in his voice, an eagerness to be praised that Koby can't ever pretend he doesn't possess. He craves every bit of approval, every sweet word, even more so because Mihawk rarely gives them. Being called things like delightful and treasure mean even more because of their rarity.]
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(Koby is cute tipsy, Mihawk discovers. He should get him drunk more often for this side of Koby. He settles down against Koby and kisses him firmly, already hard against Koby's hip. It really would have been a disaster if those two men had had their way with Koby in the alleyway...Finding him with this toy inside of him. It occurs to Mihawk then that Koby had planned to come over and...
What a minx. He grins against Koby, hiding the rare expression in their kiss as he slides his tongue into Koby's mouth. As he kisses him, he strips himself of his own pants and his hat. Everything gets tossed aside without a care, a rarity as well from Mihawk, but there are more important things to appreciate right now than neatness.
He breaks their kiss to begin kissing down the length of Koby's neck. Once he reaches his chest, he takes care with sucking at each nipple yet again, one after the other before repeating.)
Have you ever- (A pause between licks.)
Taken a man like that before? (He's doubtful, but he wants to make sure anyway. Granted, the plug would have taken care of most of the work, but still. Some people were rather skittish about that sort of thing.)
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But it's all worth it, having the long, lean, muscled form of Mihawk pressed against him, kissing him deep and possessive. Even the alleyway is forgotten, in favor of Koby getting his hands all up in the pirate's hair, pulling him even closer, panting against his mouth when they finally pull apart.
And then Mihawk is moving back downwards, and Koby has truly created a monster. A chest-tormenting monster. The question comes in between those teasing, maddening licks and sucks, each one sending electric pulses of pleasure right down the young cadet's spine, pooling hot between his legs.
And Koby's so distracted, so thoroughly caught up in how good it feels that he tells the truth without thinking, breathless and whimpering:] N-No. Never been with -- anyone else, s-so.
[Which Mihawk probably already guessed, but this is the first time Koby's admitted it aloud.]
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Enough to do the research. Enough to get the toy. Enough to practice. It makes something simmering hot flow through his chest and threatens to capsize his better sensibilities.
It's what causes him to physically pause over Koby.
It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Koby really was not the sort of guy who struck Mihawk as the sort to sleep around. Too dedicated to his duties and too shy. Still too insecure. They had never once discussed anything like commitment - why would they? They had only ever fallen together for the sake of sex, after all.
Yet something like relief creeps into Mihawk anyway. It's a foolish, stupid emotion. He was a grown man. If Koby had wanted to sleep with other men, it wouldn't have been surprising. By the sea gods, he knew he was hardly Koby's ideal sort. No, Mihawk always figured that title was reserved for the likes of Luffy.
Knowing that Koby hadn't though...He feels elated. He hadn't slept with anyone else since entering this thing with Koby either. But he was never a particularly sexual man to begin with. He doesn't realize he's come back up to look Koby in the eye, something bright and nearly starved in his gaze, uncharacteristically open for Mihawk. He grabs him by the jaw and gives him a firm kiss. One that speaks volumes: Good. You better not.)
You know who you belong to then. (A growl of words, utterly satisfied.)
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But then the pirate is rising back up, meeting Koby's eyes, and it's surprisingly easy to read the emotion there -- dangerous and fierce as always, but also alight with a hunger Koby usually only catches glimpses of. It makes him relieved that his glasses are still in place -- he'd tried to take them off, the first time, but apparently Mihawk liked them? Strange.
In response to the look, there's an almost shy smile. Now that it's out there -- there hasn't been anyone else, there isn't now -- Koby isn't sure why he'd been so desperate to keep that secret. Because it's the truth. Luffy is -- both complex and breathtakingly simple, a symbol of all the things Koby had been too afraid to pursue for years. He's idealistic and unattainable, like trying to touch the sun.
Mihawk is intimidating, but he's real. He's flesh and heat and pleasure and sweat. Koby can reach out and touch him, know he's real. There's something about him that's addictive, that stokes the feverish hunger Koby usually tries to pretend he doesn't have.
The firm, hard kiss, the grip on his chin does that as well, sending the cadet into luxurious shivers. He's already soaked, has been since they got here, thighs pressing together to try and alleviate the insistent pulse of desire that Mihawk's words bring.]
Mmmhmm. [It's barely words, mumbled against the warlord's mouth, some irrational part of Koby wanting that hand to bruise his face, leave some physical reminder of the ferociously possessive words.]