January
Thursday 27 October 2011 photo 5/5
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Shanks was dragged off the ground, and as before, the hands were again attached to Buggy's wrists. "I told you what would happen if I caught you," Buggy hissed, pressing Shanks against the wall, heaving the redhead easily off the ground and pressing close. Shanks could smell the salt of the ocean fresh on Buggy's skin and in his hair, woven into his clothes as sure as the threads themselves. Buggy lowered his hand from Shanks's mouth, all but quivering with rage. "I always wanted you," Buggy snarled, bitterness and surprising emotion thick in his voice, "but you never noticed - you never pulled your head out of your ass and opened your eyes to it, you fucking bastard...you never care about anyone's feelings
beyond your own, do you?"
"Buggy," Shanks spoke in a slow, quiet voice, trying again to placate Buggy; he felt like he was trying to sooth a rabid beast. He felt lost. "Buggy, I never knew...and you were always angry...how was I supposed to know when something was going on?
"Is that what you're going to hide behind?" Buggy demanded, now filled with fury beyond what he had felt for Shanks before. "Do you have any idea what I could do to you right now?" he whispered, "What I want to do to you?"
The words left a chill inside Shanks, and he could do nothing except simply look at Buggy, the toes of his boots barely scraping the ground. He would fight - but he needed an opening.
"This ends now," Buggy continued, sliding one hand back to get a firm grip in Shanks's hair. He twisted the man's head back, and Shanks's eyes grew wide when Buggy's mouth crushed against his.
Dimly, irrationally, Shanks noted that Buggy tasted as salty as he smelled, though the underlying bitter flavour likely came from the words he so often spoke. The kiss was so firm it made Shanks's jaw ache, and he pressed his fist against Buggy's chest, shuddering when the other pirate pulled back, but he couldn't turn his head away unless he wanted Buggy to tear his hair out at the roots.
Soon, the disgust was forgotten when Shanks felt Buggy's hand release his hair and venture lower, sliding inside the folds of his cloak. He began to squirm and kick his legs, it made Buggy chuckle; Shanks was released, his knees buckling when he hit the ground.
Buggy gripped Shanks's wrist, bending it behind the redhead's back; he pressed his face against the curve of Shanks's neck and bit down on the tanned skin. Shanks tugged away, surprised when he felt a sudden flare of deep pain blossom from his neck inwards, and he noticed a red darker than that on Buggy's lips on the clown's teeth, on his chin.
Shanks was grabbed once more by his hair, but he didn't stand idle this time. He slammed his knee into Buggy's crotch as hard as he was able, wrenching out of his grip at the same time. Pain and shock merged into one undistinguishable sensation, too intense, and Buggy dropped to the ground heavily, swearing and gasping, his eyes wet and the fury stoking inside him like a furnace.
Shanks didn't give him the chance to rise, running from the alleyway, the rush of adrenaline more intense than before. He briefly looked up at the lantern that hung on the wall just outside the alley, and in his anger and panic and determination to prevent Buggy from following, he grabbed it off the iron hook and threw it into the alley.
Shanks didn't dare stay to listen for a scream of pain. He just ran, his neck bleeding and his face pale.
-
Roux saw the captain before anyone else, and he peered down at the docks through his goggles. He easily saw the red of blood staining Shanks's tunic, and he quickly turned to call for Ben.
"Ben! It's the Captain!"
Despite the hangover that was beginning to herald its birth, Ben clambered to his feet the moment Shanks boarded the ship, pale, shaking, angry and swearing; his fist clenched and an odd look of fear and disgust in his eyes.
"Captain?" Ben asked cautiously, and Shanks stared at him, silent, before he spoke quickly, his hand gripping Ben's shirt.
"I shouldn't have gone with him, and I should have known he would do something like this, he always does something like this, although not exaclty...he's never done anything exactly like this before-"
"Captain, you're bleeding!"
"Of course I'm bleeding! He bit me! He's fucking insane!"
Ben felt slow and stupid, unable to really understand what Shanks was telling him. "He bit you?"
"Yes, he bit me! He kissed me! I don't want something like that from Buggy, for God's sake, not Buggy! That is possibly the most repulsive thing that's ever happened to me!"
Ben rubbed the back of his neck, squinting. "Why would he bite you?"
Shanks stared at him, his mouth ajar and eyes wide. "Are you listening to me!" he cried, "We have to pull up anchor and go right now! I threw a lantern at him, of all bloody things..." Shanks paled even more, and he grabbed his own hair this time. "Oh, my God, I threw a lantern at him! Who throws a lantern?"
"Captain, we can handle him if he comes back! Yassop rounded up the rest of the crew, we-"
"I can't face him after that!" Shanks shouted, "And I can't just attack him!"
"If we take off, he'll chase us," Ben reasoned, and Lucky Roux spoke up.
"He might, and he might not."
Shanks began to pace, swearing and muttering and ranting to himself, looking to Ben for advice. "What do I do?" he asked, and Ben slid a cigarette between his lips, working out all that Shanks told him.
"We pull up anchor. We'll stop somewhere else...besides, it's foggy here..." He looked skyward, watching the silver of his cigarette smoke curl over the moon. "Captain, you should go rest, and let someone look at your neck and cheek."
In his haste and panic, Shanks had completely forgotten about the bite wound, the bruise on his cheek. He touched both, gingerly, staring dumbly at the blood on his fingers. Dutifully, Yassop took Shanks by his elbow and lead him below deck.
o________________________________O
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