
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/579996.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Piece
  Relationship:
      Crocodile/Donquixote_Doflamingo
  Character:
      Donquixote_Doflamingo, Crocodile_(One_Piece)
  Additional Tags:
      Older_Characters, Scar_Worship, Past_Abuse, Explicit_Sexual_Content
  Series:
      Part 2 of Unconventional_Relationships_(OP)
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-02 Words: 6409
****** Morning After ******
by Silver_Eternity
Summary
     Set right after Gambling on Affection and also written for a
     livestream audience so I went extra smexy on the details. However,
     there ARE past mentions of rape and abuse, a bit of scar worship, and
     extremely unusual eyes on Doflamingo that is purely a fan
     construction. However, All warnings of rape and abuse and underage
     ONLY APPLY TO PAST EVENTS AND ARE NOT GONE INTO DETAIL.
Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not, never have, and never will had any part of
     ownership over One Piece or it's characters. Believe me, if I owned
     it, there would be a lot more Marine Admirals dying and a lot more
     openly yaoi relationships.
     Shichibukai = Pirate Lords/ Seven Warlords of the Sea
     Names of all Pirate Lords at time of this fic: Donquixote Doflamingo,
     Dracule Mihawk, Boa Hancock, Bartholomew Kuma, Jinbe, Gekko Moriah,
     and Crocodile
     Devil Fruit: bestows one particular power on the person who eats it,
     comes in three 'types' (Logia, Zoan, and Pharmacacia); power is
     canceled out by seawater/seastone and the user weakened, often to
     lethal weakness, thus causing the nickname 'anchor' for Devil Fruit
     users.
     Relevant Devil Fruits:
     Donquixote Doflamingo - name and limits of devil fruit unknown; uses
     'strings' to physically manipulate people and can turn them to razor
     wire in order to slice, often combined with psychological
     manipulation to make his 'puppet' more amusing.
     Crocodile - Sand-Sand fruit, Logia class. Can manipulate sand and
     remove moisture from things and people; training evolved to such a
     strength that he can create his own desert on a whim by removing all
     moisture from surrounding environment until turns into sand. Weakness
     is all water, not just seawater (sand + water = mud).
     Tenryuubito: "Celestial Dragons", descendants of the twelve founders
     of the World Government, current World Nobles and granted impunity by
     the World Government for that reason despite their cruel and abusive,
     indolent natures and illegal behaviors, such as the taking of slaves
     and killing of anyone they feel like.
     Bananawani: Also known as Bananadiles, these are strange creatures,
     enormous crocodiles with a single banana growing out of their
     forehead. Crocodile appears to have an affinity with them, because he
     owns a large lake full of them; they populate a 'moat' around his
     personal casino, by the name of Rain Dinners.
Crocodile hadn’t been quite prepared for the effects of allowing Donquixote
Doflamingo’s monster of a penis invade his body.  He’d thought he was, but he
wasn’t.  He hadn’t bottomed before.  In his few times having sex with men, he
had always been the instigator, the ‘seme’.  With Doflamingo, he… hadn’t been. 
Though younger than he, the other man was larger and had been in the
Shichibukai longer, and it was he who had propositioned Crocodile after the
monthly meeting at Marine HQ.  Actually, Doflamingo had been propositioning him
after every Shichibukai meeting since he had first been initiated, and since
the man had made his ‘initiation’ rather…pleasurable…Crocodile had allowed it. 
It was…admittedly flattering to have a younger man, an extremely powerful one,
who could easily have his pick of the greatest beauties around, to pursue him
with such…dedication.  Regardless of the fact that the man in question was, as
he had heard described on numerous occasions, “batshit insane”.  Not that
Crocodile himself would ever use such vulgar terminology.  Donquixote was
simply…unique in his views on life.

It hadn’t taken him long to delve into the other pirate captain’s past.  Or his
present.  The man left quite an impression wherever he went; the man had even
been remembered in the crowd of thousands who had attended Gol D. Rogers’
execution- though the fact that he had an afro the color of corn silk probably
helped make him memorable.  Crocodile could safely say that he was quite glad
the man had abandoned that particular hairstyle by the time he had met him. 
Strangely, that was the earliest information he could gather on him, and he had
been in his early twenties then.  It was quite odd.  Who the hell didn’t
remember a ten-foot-tall teenager gallivanting around their town?  Regardless,
he’d found out in the present that he owned the Human Auction House on
Sabaody.  It was quite a dirty little secret- though the marines on Sabaody
generally looked the other way, particularly because their precious tenryuubito
liked to frequent it, it was quite a black mark against the Marines for one of
their Pirate Lord allies to be running such a devilish business right under the
nose of their HQ.  It would be good blackmail, should he ever need it.

Regardless, he probably wasn’t going to need it.  Though he wanted to fuck
Doflamingo up for this.  He wanted to do that very badly.  His midsection was
racked with stabs of horrendous, white-hot pain every time he moved his hips. 
He couldn’t stand.  Fuck, he couldn’t even sit.  God forbid he put weight on
his ass right now.  He couldn’t even shift to try and get into a more
comfortable position, stuck on his side where Doflamingo had put him.  If he
got the chance, he was going to gut that bastard for this, he thought sourly to
himself.  Worse, the feathered menace had disappeared almost twenty minutes
ago, leaving him stranded and alone.

Damn him, damn him and his hypnotizing eyes!  He felt so stupid for agreeing to
show him how to take off his wrist-mount for his hook.  Of course, at the time,
it had sounded perfectly reasonable.  “Let me take it off so you don’t
accidentally stab me in the middle of things,” Don had said, and like a goddamn
idiot he’d let him.  Crocodile felt his eye twitch.  He didn’t even try to keep
his thoughts from being vulgar and homicidal.  The fucker would only deserve
whatever Crocodile dished out to him for putting him through this.

And then Doflamingo returned, a large white length of fabric draped over one
arm and a sheepish smile on his face.  “Sorry I took so long.  I was getting
the doctor, telling the chef to make breakfast, and drawing you a hot bath to
help with the soreness and pain.  It should help your muscles.”

Crocodile sent a glare at him that could have melted solid diamond.

He chuckled weakly and tried not to make his flinch obvious.  Six months he’d
spent carefully courting him, coaxing him toward this point, and the man looked
like he was contemplating how to kill him and get away with it.  He was eyeing
him like a cat might a fish (He had no idea at the moment how accurate he was-
Crocodile was imagining gutting him like a fish and throwing his entrails to
his bananawani).  He instead just continued with what he’d been doing, scooping
Crocodile up in his arms and carrying him into the bathroom, then shoving his
own shorts that he’d tugged on to schlep around the house in to the floor and
stepped into the tub, settling the other on his lap.  He had to sit sideways
with his thighs on top of Don’s legs, to avoid putting pressure on his sore
ass, and Don knew he was going to pay for last night regardless of how much his
smaller lover had enjoyed it.  As he pampered the man in his lap by gently
washing him, his mind wandered back to last night…and what a night it had been.

Tonight Crocodile had finally agreed to graduate from the toys to the real
thing.  Despite its intimidating size.  Despite knowing Doflamingo was most
certainly off his rocker.  Despite even his own sense of self-preservation that
told him he would regret this twelve hours from now.  But damn it all, he was
tired of feeling Don go to sleep beside him with a throbbing dick!  He felt
guilty about it every time the bigger man retreated to the bathroom to rub it
out or ducked into a cold shower.  Especially since no matter how many times he
brought him to orgasm he sprang back like a goddamn incubus.  While the blond
was physically only a few years younger than himself, his libido was at most
twenty years old.  And it made him worry.  The man owned the Human Auction
House.  He could have anyone he wanted.  He could have as many as he wanted. 
He didn’t know why, but the thought of Don going to some slave to satisfy
himself made him feel…just a little ill.

No, that was a lie.  A bald-faced lie, and he didn’t lie to himself, he was
better than that.  The thought of Doflamingo fucking other people made him feel
sick to his stomach because he was dearly attached to the man.  Possibly even
loved him.  Fuck.  But what was this, they had?  Really, what did it mean?  Was
he just a game to Don?  A prize to be won and thrown aside once gotten, like so
many of the amusements he’d seen the taller man go through in just the six
months they’d known each other?  He couldn’t help thinking he was.  That first
time, that first night they had done this…thing, Don had called it a game.  A
game.  That was all it was.  Well fine.  Fine.  If Doflamingo wanted to play a
game, he would let him win, and then the man would leave him in peace to nurse
his wounded pride and broken heart.  So yes, tonight he’d decided he was going
to let Donquixote fuck him.  And if this turned out the way he thought it
would, then…he would have to handle it.  He was no coward, to hide away from
the world and mourn a love- a relationship- that had never truly been real. 
Something he’d never had.  He wouldn’t play this game anymore.

Don knew there was something off about his Crocodile tonight.  Something out of
sorts.  It wasn’t just his sudden agreement to full-on sex with him.  The way
he was holding himself, the way his mouth was set like he was about to undergo
some distasteful task.  “You know I never want to push you to do something you
don’t want.  We can walk back outside right now and just sit on the dock
drinking sake.”  He’d done that a couple times before, when Crocodile thought
he was ready and wasn’t.  He’d barely gotten within a foot of the man on the
bed before he’d panicked and called it off.  Crocodile’s mouth twisted into a
frown.

“No.  I really want to go through with it tonight.  I want you tonight, Don.” 
He knew that would get the man raring to go.  He usually didn’t call him by the
affectionate nickname, except in the throes of passion, and so the man had been
trained to have an instant reaction of almost unbearable arousal to Crocodile
calling him by it.

Don gritted his teeth even as his dick sprang to attention like a solider
during roll call.  He was not going to let him distract him from whatever was
distressing him!  “Crocodile.  I know you.  No matter how much you want to deny
it, I am familiar with you, with your mannerisms and your style of doing
things.  Something is wrong.  I’m not going to let you distract me so you don’t
have to talk about it.”

Crocodile nearly bit his tongue.  Damn his persistence!  “I’m just…I’m just
nervous, alright?”

Don tried not to snarl.  “You’re using contractions when you talk, Crocodile,
you never use less than proper language unless your dick’s halfway down my
throat and even then it’s rarely!  Talk to me,” his voice gentled, “let me be
your confidant.  I promise not to tell anyone.”

Damn him.  Damn him for sounding like he actually cared!  He was a cruelly
deceptive bastard indeed, and good at it too.  He swallowed and reminded
himself that, all emotional ties aside, Don was very good at making his body
feel good.  He was very skilled at giving pleasure, and that was what he wanted
tonight.  He wanted to feel good.  He wanted to get something out of this.  He
wanted…he wanted good memories to hang onto when Don was gone.  When he’d won
the game and left.  Reminding himself of this short term goal helped him draw
on that ‘blushing hot mess’ Don so often reduced him to and that the bigger man
couldn’t resist for his life.  “I just…I’m scared.  I’ve never bottomed
before…”  Like he’d thought, that did it.

Don couldn’t stop his sharp intake of air at that.  He’d never…not once…?  Oh
god.  He sat down on the side of his bed and swallowed hard.  “I…I…fuck, Croc. 
I don’t know what to say.  I’m…I’m pretty big for the first cock you’ll ever
take, um, so, if you wanted to…uh, try someone else first, I uh…fuck this isn’t
coming out right.  Shit.”  Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he
fell back on the bed and tried to wrap his mind around the full implications of
what Crocodile had just told him.  Then he tried again.  “What I mean to say,
is, I guess, if you didn’t want me to be your first, I’ll wait.  Um.  Shitfuck
I’m still screwing this up.”

This was actually amusing to Crocodile.  To see the usually suave Doflamingo
fumbling for words.  To hear him curse like the men who sailed under him.  To
hear him admit he was botching this up.  It put him at ease, and made him
forget the real reasons he was doing this.  Or maybe it just helped him to
remember the real reasons he was doing this.  Because he loved this man.  Loved
him hard and fiercely.  And he didn’t want anyone else.  So, aloud, he
scoffed.  “Try someone else?  Stupid bird.  Nobody in this world would ever
possibly prepare me for you.”  Striding over to the bed, he straddled the man’s
waist.  “Why would I look elsewhere…when I have you ready to provide for my
every whim?  You know me, Don,” his voice lowered to a husky purr, “I demand
only the best.  I refuse to settle for any less.  And out of everyone in this
world, you are the largest and most skilled.  That makes you the best.  And you
suggest I settle for less than the best?  Foolish talk.”

Don couldn’t help the grin that curled his mouth as he removed his hands and
looked up into the face of his lover.  “Ah yes, little King, I should have
known better.  I apologize for insulting you,” he murmured, watching as those
black eyes flashed at him.

Crocodile reached down and snatched the glasses off Don’s face, tossing them on
the bedside table.  “You know I hate it when you call me that.  Why do you do
it when you know it only angers me?”

Don smile turned sheepish.  “Uhhh…’cuz I think of you like one?”

Crocodile’s raised eyebrow said it all.

Don felt the heat creeping up his cheeks to flush them red and didn’t try to
hide it.  “Well, I…uh…well… You’re my…my…my own personal king, okay?”

Crocodile’s raised eyebrow went higher.

Don’s blush extended down his neck.  “I can’t…I can’t help it, okay?  You’re
always so graceful, and regal, and- and- I don’t have to explain myself to
you!”

Crocodile’s other eyebrow joined the first.  He’d never seen Doflamingo lose
his composure like this…he liked it.  He lowered his face to meet the others,
hand braced on his chest to give him leverage.  “If you want to get anywhere
with me…you know very well that you do.”

Don winced.  He did have a point… “Al…alright.  It’s because…unnn…because…don’t
make me say ittttt…”

Crocodile’s stare was unrelenting and heavy.  He made sure it pressed on Don
even more than the weight behind his hand pressed down on his chest.

Don squirmed and squeezed his eyes shut.  “It’scuzyerkingamyheart.”

Crocodile sneered.  “That was unintelligible and you know it.  Say it so I can
at least decipher it, birdbrain.”

Don took a deep breath.  “It’s..it’s cuz you’re…the king…of my heart.”  He
pried open one eye to look up at the other.  Since this little arrangement had
started, emotions had never been mentioned.  And he would never admit it,
never, but…he was a little worried the other man was only tolerating his
attentions because emotions had never been involved.  Now he’d gone and broken
that silent agreement.  Crocodile’s reaction was vital to his poor, battered
heart.  This would define the rest of their interactions with each other for
the rest of their lives.

Crocodile nearly swore he felt his heart stop.  Just stop, dead, in his chest. 
He couldn’t possibly mean that, he couldn’t- that would mean- oh god what if he
was wrong- he gave himself a sharp mental slap.  He’d seen how short Don’s
attention span was.  So sure, he probably meant it.  He was the king of his
heart…for now.  In a month, that spot would belong to someone else.  Yes.  That
was it.  He calmed himself and instead gave Don a gentle smile, one that held
his own feelings.  “That…is surprisingly sweet.  For an empty-headed bird like
you, that is,” he made sure his voice was light, letting him know he was
teasing, but that he understood and appreciated what the other man meant.

Don gave a little grin of his own in relief.  Then he abruptly felt sand grate
on his skin and he was naked in under ten seconds, left to blink in shock.  Oh
fuck.  A blushing, shy Crocodile had nearly killed him when all his blood had
rushed to his dick, but a dominant Croc taking what he wanted would really kill
him!  That was so hot he didn’t have words for it.  His mouth went dry and his
dick leaked with no further provocation.  Dear god, was he in for it now.

Crocodile smirked down at him, taking charge for once, and by all indications
his bed companion had no complaints whatsoever.  Actually, by all appearances,
he rather liked it.  His own clothes dissolved into sand entirely, not even
requiring him to waste seconds disrobing, and Don’s eyes got wide and his
pupils dilated in pure arousal, his usually ocean-blue eyes darkening to almost
black.  Good.  With him this worked up, what he had in store for him would
drive him wild.  Swallowing- he’d never been this bold, and hell, if he hadn’t
met Doflamingo and had encounters with his ‘toys’ before, he would never have
even thought of this, but…he took a deep breath, steeled his nerve, then turned
around on the blond’s lap and presented his ass.

If he hadn’t been laying down on the bed, Don would have fallen off it.  How
had his conservative Crocodile gotten up the nerve to do…do…that?!  He felt
like someone had hit him over the head with the mainmast of his ship.  If his
mouth hadn’t gone bone-dry, he might have choked.  As it was, he now couldn’t
take his blue-on-orange eyes off his lover’s ass, and, more importantly, what
was in it.  There, in perfect view thanks to the smaller man’s position, was
the handle of very, very thick…something…that was both occupying and stretching
his entrance.  Murmuring an oath in his native language, something he hadn’t
slipped enough to do in many years, he reached forward, wrapped his long
fingers carefully around the handle, and pulled it out slowly.
His eyes got wider the more of it he withdrew.  It was so long!  And fuck, it
was thick, and as more and more came out he couldn’t help the repeated jolts of
arousal that shook his body.  When it finally came out completely, he almost
had a heart attack and he was sure he’d made some involuntary sound because it
was a dildo molded in the shape of his own cock.  It even had all the
dimensions right, both length and thickness.  For a second, he stared at it
dumbly, wide-eyed and stunned to the core.  Where… how…when…oh holy mother of
all things living.

Crocodile nearly came as the toy he’d had custom-made after taking a cast of
Don’s cock was pulled out of him, but when there was no response from the man
behind him, he started getting nervous.  He tried to look back over his
shoulder, and Don was just staring at the toy, eyes wide as plates, body
frozen.  He swallowed, suddenly wondering if he’d done something wrong.  He’d
just wanted to save the hour of foreplay and stretching…he wasn’t that patient,
usually, and hadn’t wanted to give himself time to change his mind.  He
shifted, and suddenly Don’s eyes snapped to his and he felt his gut tighten. 
He’d never seen a look like that before.  His pupils, they were…they were
shrinking and he didn’t even have time to register what that meant before he
was being pinned on his stomach in the middle of the bed and Don was pressed to
him without enough room for a breath of air to get between their bodies and
there were teeth in his shoulder.

To say Don was lost would be an understatement.  The man, the personality, the
human being of mental capacity known as Donquixote Doflamingo was flat out
gone.  All that was left was the beast of primal instinct that lurked just
under the polished veneer that was Don.  He had been reduced to little more
than an animal, a very big, very strong animal that had his ‘mate’ pinned
beneath him and ready to fuck.  Growling, he rutted against Crocodile’s ass,
rubbing his cock along the crack and collecting what lube had slipped out of
him with the dildo, and finding it not enough, he reared back and slid back on
his knees to bring his face down to the stretched hole and started lapping at
it.  He was much too far gone to remember what lube was, or that he kept it in
the bedside drawer.
Crocodile cried out and squirmed at the strange feeling, trying to protest, and
wondering what the hell had happened to the other.  He was acting like some
sort of- some sort of beast, and it was strange but he didn’t want the other
man’s mouth there!  He kissed him with that mouth!  When he tried to move his
arm to push him away, he found he couldn't move them.  They were immobile, but
under his control…it was like they were- tied together with invisible string! 
Fuck, Don’s power, he’d nearly forgotten!  He’d promised not to use it and he’d
broken that; now, Crocodile was starting to feel scared.  He couldn’t help it. 
Don never broke his promises.  Something was going on, and he didn’t know what-
his thoughts were abruptly scattered when a hot, wet tongue licked him from
balls to tailbone.

Don, or what was left of him, gave the puppet string holding his mate in place
a little tug to make sure it wasn’t too tight and then he returned to his
current task- preparing his mate properly for him.  He was slick inside, but he
needed to be wetter.  Lapping like a cat, he spread as much slick saliva as he
could around the rim, then inside as far as he could reach.  The intensely
pleasured noises his mate made while he got him ready were a bonus, and he kept
doing it longer than strictly necessary just to hear more of them.  He was
almost mewing, and Don knew he hadn’t made that sound before.  He liked it, but
he wanted to mate him now, claim him properly.  So nobody else could. 
Carefully, he positioned himself and started to push in.

Croc wasn’t sure what had come over Don, but he knew whatever it was he was in
for it now.  At least it seemed to remember that those puppet strings could cut
if too tight, and was giving him a little slack.  Still, as that massive cock
started invading him, he realized his mistake.  The toy had been made from a
cast of his dick when he was sleeping and it was limp.  His hard length was,
while not considerably bigger, was just enough to make him feel the stretch and
a slight burn.  His hand gripped hard at the sheets, and he bit the pillow as
the other man hilted inside him and held still a moment to let him adjust.  He
could feel him in his ribcage.

Don stopped once in, nuzzling at his mate’s neck lovingly, hands petting up and
down his body.  He didn’t see or smell blood, so he hadn’t hurt him much, but
his mate was obviously uncomfortable.  He licked at his neck and shoulders,
hands running down his chest.  Noticing his mate seemed to rather like it when
his hands ran over the two hard points on his chest, he took them both between
finger and thumb and gave them gentle, pulsing squeezes.  His mate made a low
sound and his insides squeezed Don, so he took that as his cue and sat straight
on his knees, starting slow to make sure his mate wasn’t still uncomfortable.

Crocodile couldn’t have stopped the cry of pure pleasure that burst from his
throat if he’d tried, and he wasn’t trying.  There was an entire foot of cock
pressed up directly against his prostate, and even those short thrusts rubbed
against it mercilessly, the bulging veins on the dick inside him giving extra
stimulation he didn’t know how to handle.  This was so much more…more…just more
than the dildo.  He wasn’t prepared for this.  There was a lot about Doflamingo
he wasn’t prepared for, but this just took the goddamn cake.  They’d barely
started and he thought he was going to die, or explode, or cry, or something. 
Then Don really started thrusting.

Crocodile screamed.

Don purred.  His mate was pleased, he could tell by that very loud noise, so he
continued to thrust, delving deep and hard, and thrusting as deep as he could
possibly get into that tight, hot vice that gripped him so perfectly.  He
rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, purring to him and still petting him,
though one hand was holding his hips steady as he hammered into him, telling
him without words how dear he was to him, how much he loved him, how he would
be with him forever if his little mate let him.  He would make this the best
mating he’d ever had, and then his mate would never want to leave!  He’d stay
and let Don take care of him forever.  He purred extra loud and give a few
extra hard thrusts at the thought.

Crocodile was reaching his breaking point.  He would have broken long ago if he
had any stimulation on his cock, which was hard and leaking like a faucet as it
swung wildly from the hard thrusts that were pounding into his ass.  He
couldn’t help the screams of pure pleasure that kept tearing from this throat,
and his hand reached for his dick only to be held where it was bound to his
hook and he belatedly remembered about the string holding him.  He’d forgotten
about it under the incredible onslaught from behind him.

Don felt the tug and quickly figured out what his mate wanted.  And he knew he
was close, very close, so he grinned and gave his mate’s neck one last kiss
before reaching down and giving his dick a single firm stroke while ramming
deep inside him at the same moment.

For miles around Don’s ship, people all over the island jumped in alarm as a
high, unearthly scream echoed around the city, bouncing between the buildings
before dying away.

It took Don almost a dozen more thrusts into the incredibly tight heat that had
clamped down around him before he came to his end as well, and then he sank
down against his mate, nuzzling him and purring.  But his mate didn’t respond,
and after a moment, he found out why.  After worriedly turning his mate onto
his back, he found the other male was unconscious!  After checking he was alive
and satisfying himself that he was, he nodded proudly and pulled out carefully,
wincing when his mate gave a grunt of discomfort, then settled at his back to
get some sleep himself.  He would take care of everything…in the morning. 
Yes.  In the morning.  He would show his mate that he was…he was a good mate. 
Strong.  Loving.  In the morning.

Don came back to himself when he was sharply prodded in the side by the stump
of Crocodile’s wrist.  “What on earth is that stupid dreamy expression on your
face about, Birdbrain?”  Considering his lover’s current mood, he decided it
wasn’t wise to answer that perfectly honestly and twisted his words to suit. 
“About what I did wrong last night and how to make it up to you,” he answered
evasively, and winced.  Judging by the even blacker look Crocodile was giving
him, he hadn’t phrased that quite right.  By Roger’s mustache, when he could
walk again Crocodile was going to tear his balls off and toss them into the sea
if he couldn’t stop bungling this.

Crocodile eyed the other man, then settled back in his lap with a final little
angry noise and resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest like a
petulant child.  At least the man was admitting he shouldn’t have handled last
night in the manner he had.  Or at least, that was what he was telling himself
Don was admitting, since the alternative would be that Don thought last night
was a mistake and his heart couldn’t handle that.  That thought, now that it
occurred to him, made him turn to send him another venomous glare, only to make
him pause.  In the bright bathroom lighting, there appeared to be
something…wrong…with Doflamingo’s eyes.

Don gave a little squawk of surprise when he suddenly found a hand clamped
harshly around the base of his neck, dragging him down to bend him double and
put him on eye level with Croc, who was staring him dead in the eye with
frankly unnerving intensity.

Now that he was really looking at them, he could see the pupils had shrunk to
accommodate the change in light intensity, but Don’s pupils were a strange
shape Crocodile didn’t really have a name for.  Almost like a windmill shape,
but without curved blades.  Like a four-pointed star, or a cross, right dead
center in his eye with one of the slits perfectly vertical and the other
perfectly horizontal.  But they weren’t square or even rounded.  No, they were
slits like a cat’s eye, and the inner corners shrunk in as it contracted.  He’d
never seen anything like it.  He frowned.  “What is this?”

Crocodile’s voice was low and dark.  Doflamingo shuddered at it, knowing
somehow he was in trouble but not knowing why or even how.  “I- I don’t
know…what you mean.  You’ve seen my eyes dozens of times before,” he said
shakily.

Crocodile snarled and whacked him with his stump.  “I mean your pupils you
moron!  They have an incredibly strange shape and I demand to know why.”

Don swallowed hard and blinked rapidly a few times.  “They- I was born with
them like that.  I don’t know why.”

Crocodile frowned.  “They must have some strange effect on your vision.  I
never noticed before because in low light they dilate so wide as to look
round,” he mused, distracted from his anger by the strange phenomenon.

“Colors.”

Crocodile’s gaze snapped back to him.  “What?”

Don squirmed.  “Colors.  I can’t see colors the way other people do,” he
elaborated, feeling oddly vulnerable.  That hard yellow stare was pinning him
in place like a pushpin in a butterfly.  “I have the most trouble seeing black,
it usually looks purple to me, and, um, green I can’t seem to see at all, green
things only look gray,” he continued.

Crocodile raised an eyebrow.  “Would that happen to be why you like the color
pink so much?”

He nodded, still visibly uncomfortable.  “Uh, yeah.  Pink and most other shades
of red are the only colors that don’t shift around on me.  Even the reds will
switch around with the blues sometimes.  Pink’s the steadiest, I’ve never seen
it change.”

Crocodile mused on this.  If nothing, it was interesting.  And an exploitable
weakness, if you knew how to, but he couldn’t think of any immediately
applicable weak points.  Don already knew his vision was different from other
people’s, so trying to switch colors on him wouldn’t work if someone tried to
poison him, and that was the first thing that came to mind when one thought of
colorblindness.  So he really had that weak point covered already, and he
couldn’t help but approve.  Still, this was valuable information.  Why had Don
told him, with minimal squirming and no hesitation?  Perhaps he simply didn’t
think Crocodile was that much of a threat.

Don was just starting to relax, since his lover didn’t appear to be freaking
out about his eyes as he was afraid he would, when the hand on the back of his
neck, which had slackened a little, tightened its grip again.  “…I feel
something on the back of your neck.  Turn around.”  Oh.  Oh no.  No, no, no no
no no no!  Don’s heart dropped into his stomach, but he said nothing, only
moved Crocodile onto the seat of the tub across from him and did as told,
letting Crocodile see his naked back for the first time.

The only thing Crocodile could do was stare and hope he hadn’t gasped out
loud.  Doflamingo’s back was completely covered in scars.  Red, raw-looking,
latticed scars that horrified the older Shichibukai.  From the back of his
neck, all the way down to where the water was at his waist, and they looked
like they went even lower than that.  He’d never seen so many scars, not like
that, not overlaid over each other until there was nothing at all left of the
original flesh.  All that remained was the scar tissue.  And they had scarred
so badly.  Surely they’d never been treated.  Dear kami in heaven…

Don felt even more intensely vulnerable than he had before, and he quickly
turned back around; or rather, he tried to.

“NO!” Crocodile’s voice snapped out, and the horror in it made Don freeze in
place.  “No,” he continued more gently, making effort to sound as neutral as
possible, “stand up.  Let me see…everything.”  He didn’t miss Don’s flinch.

The taller man did his best not to let his terror and discomfort show.  So he
wanted to see it all, did he?  Wanted to see his ugliness in its entirety? 
Steeling himself and setting his mouth, he slowly stood and braced a knee on
the edge of the tub, which was set into the floor, and pulled himself out of
the bath entirely.  Then he stood, completely straight, entirely exposed, and
waited.

Crocodile could barely control himself as the full extent of the damage was
revealed.  The scars stretched from his neck all the way down to his ankles. 
His legs weren’t anywhere near as bad as his back, but they were pretty bad. 
His shoulders looked like someone had attacked him with a knife, and even his
ass was covered in the marks, lash marks he realized distantly, marks from a
whip or a crop being brought down on his skin over and over, with enough force
to part the skin into a gaping wound and make it bleed.  This wasn’t just a
single incident.  No.  These were put on in layers, he could clearly see it
now, at various points in time, and a knife had been taken to the tender skin
of his shoulders and the small of his back, and kanji had been carved there at
one point but later abuses had broken them up too much for them to be legible.

Suddenly he wondered if other abuses had been heaped upon the larger man, and
Crocodile moved over to the side of the tub, his pain and soreness reduced by
the heat and water enough that he could ignore it for the moment.  “Don…what
happened to you?”

He shuddered.  At least Crocodile hadn’t run away…though that it might be only
his curiosity holding him was not a comforting thought.  “I…I wasn’t always
this big.  And- and I wasn’t always a killer.  Hell, I wasn’t even a fighter. 
And they didn’t like…a skinny little twelve-year-old with gangly limbs showing
them up.  I was only about five feet tall.  My arms and legs too long for my
body.  And they hated me.  They hated me so much.  I was smarter than them, but
not stronger.  And they could do whatever they wanted.  So they did.”

Crocodile felt ill again.  Just sick.  But he had to know.  “…Anything?”  He
knew Don would know what he was really asking- Everything?

Don shuddered.  “Anything.”  Everything.  Every terrible thing you can do, they
did.

This time it required quite a lot of concentration to keep from being
physically ill.  Someone had… no wonder Don had twisted morals.  He’d learned
none of them growing up, only after he was grown and gone from his home, when
he was set in his ways, and any morality he learned, any ‘honor’ he
encountered, was twisted by his life experience.  And did he say he’d only
been…twelve?  Crocodile nearly saw red.  The only thing that kept him was the
cool, distant manner in which Doflamingo spoke of it.  “…Come here,
Donquixote.  I presume the guilty parties are no longer living?”  They had
betterbe dead.  Because if they weren’t, he was turning them into mummies.

Don felt…oddly numb as he slid back into the water, and over to his lover. 
“No.  They were…shall we say…most helpful in allowing me to learn the
limitations of my power?”

Crocodile couldn’t stop the grin that curled one corner of his mouth.  “Oh?”

“Yes,” Don said.  “They were how I found out that if my strings were wound too
tightly, cuts and dismemberment were soon to follow.”

Crocodile’s golden eyes shone with a dark, blood-lusty light.  “I see.  And I
suppose it took…quite a lot of experimenting to learn the exact limitations of
your strings?”

Don could feel his own grin returning.  “Oh, yes.  Months’ worth of practice.”

Crocodile purred.  “How…lovely.”

Don slid over to where Crocodile was resting and then they were back to their
previous relaxed relationship.  And Crocodile was smacking him in the shoulder
as he lifted him out of the hot bath and quietly telling him of how he planned
to remove his testicles in the most excruciating manner possible before making
them into earrings and throwing his ‘abomination’ of a dick to his bananadiles
once he was back in Alabasta.  Don could only laugh at the descriptions.  He
knew perfectly well Croc didn’t mean it- it was just the sore ass and the bad
temper talking.

After drying his smaller companion came breakfast, again letting Croc use his
legs as a bench to keep pressure off his sore ass, and after that the doctor,
who dosed him with painkillers that wouldn’t put him completely out of it but
wouldn’t make sitting quite as much of an agony.

Still, the drugs did make him rather fuzzy, and as he drowsed in Doflamingo’s
arms, Crocodile couldn’t help the question that spilled from his mouth. 
“Y’know…you already got what you wanted.  You won the game.  Why are you still
being so…so…nice?”

Don gave him the sternest look he could manage under the circumstances.  “This
isn’t- this isn’t a game.  Maybe it was at first, for you, because I knew you
needed the option of ‘quitting’ if you felt you needed to.  But it’s never
really been a game for me.  I was ‘playing’ for keeps.  So I’m taking care of
you because I care about you.  And people look after the things, the people the
care about, don’t they?”

Crocodile went quiet after that, contemplating all the subtle meaning of what
he’d said.  Donquixote was generally about as subtle as a freight train, but
this…silently, a smile took over his face and he settled more comfortably in
his…lover’s…lap.  Okay.  Okay.  He could handle this.  In fact, he even
preferred this.  This, he could work with.
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