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“Why are you calling me, Akagami?” Mihawk drawled, letting the snail sit on his chest as he laid back on his raft, his hat covering his face. He was just beginning to drift off, the last bit of sun for the day was too bright for him to look out toward the sea, the shining gold and pink reflecting like a mirror on the calm sway of the waves. Of course, Shanks would call him right when he was at his most comfortable.
“I stopped by Kuraigana, but you’re not here.”
Mihawk’s upper lip twitched in irritation. Here. Which meant he was still in the castle. “You broke into my home?”
Shanks chuckled lightly, the sound stirring tangled emotions in Mihawk’s chest. He loved the sound. He hated it. He wanted to hear it again.
“Well, I wasn’t sure when you’d return so I made myself comfortable.” There was a shuffling in the background, as if he was adjusting himself or the snail. “I’ve got nowhere to be at the moment, and I haven’t seen you in months, I thought you’d be missing me.” He murmured lowly and Mihawk had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Speaking of which, your bed is softer than I remember. Smells nice too. Just like you.” Shanks sighed, his voice half muffled as if he pressed his face into the bedding.
Mihawk clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he couldn’t dispel the images flashing in his mind of their last interaction: Shanks laying nude on his side in that very bed, his head propped up by pillows, looking at Mihawk as if he could memorize every little detail of his body. Warm callous fingers traced the shapes of leftover bruises and hickies, the scent of both of them, of their lovemaking, filling his senses.
Mihawk tipped back his hat, as if the glare from the sun could replace the ghost of Shanks in his mind’s eye.
“I’ve hardly missed you.” Mihawk lied. “And you had better not have your shoes on in my bed.”
“I know better than that, baby. I took off my shoes... and my shirt... and my pants...”
Mihawk could hear the grin in his tone. Shanks was toying with him. Mihawk knew how to get under his skin, too. He let out a huff and said, “Rolling around naked in my bed because the master isn’t home? You’re worse than an animal.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, then shifting fabric. “If you were here right now, I’d show you what an animal I can be.” He said close to the phone, his voice pitched down.
Mihawk’s heart skipped a beat. He should not be entertaining this. If you feed a stray scraps, they’ll never leave you alone. But he’d been terribly bored as of late…and Shanks managed to get his blood pumping for the first time in months.
“Is that right? And how would you show me, Akagami?” He asked, matching Shanks’ tone.
Mihawk could hear his breath hitch, then he growled. “I’d pin you to the bed and bite your pretty neck, mark you up and leave you with bruises for weeks.”
Mihawk’s heart pattered in his chest and he raised his hand, touching his neck where he knew Shanks wanted to bite him. He could imagine the feel of his teeth, his barely rounded canines pressing into his skin.
“What a brute.” Mihawk huffed, but his skin tingled at the memory of Shanks’ mouth on his throat. “Perhaps your mouth would serve me better elsewhere.”
“Anywhere you want, baby.” He breathed, “I’d kiss your soft lips until they were sore, pin your hands above your head and lick your chest raw, until you were crying for me.”
Mihawk shivered, heat flickering to life in his abdomen, his nipples hardening despite the warmth from the sun. His fingers lightly brushed his own lips, before trailing down to pinch his nipple.
“Then where would you put that devilish mouth?” He asked quietly, getting lost in the fantasy Shanks spun.
Shanks groaned and there was shuffling on the line, like he was adjusting his position.
“Everywhere. I’d tear off your clothes and taste every bit of skin until I reached your delicious cunt.”
Mihawk sighed, hand sliding down his chest, over his stomach, down between his legs to cup himself, attempting the ease the tension building in him. He put a teasing amount of pressure against his swelling t-dick, holding back from slipping his hand into his pants just yet. He bit his lip to stifle his moan, continuing to lightly rub himself.
“I haven’t bathed in days.” He murmured, knowing the kind of reaction Shanks’ would have at the information.
Shanks moaned, the soft slap of flesh on flesh audible through the phone. “Fuck yes, wanna taste you. Wanna drown in your pussy, babe.”
Mihawk chuckled, his body feeling warmer at Shanks’ sounds, “So filthy. You’re touching your cock just to the thought me, aren’t you?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Shanks.
“Fuck, you know I am. Please tell me you’re touching yourself too.” He huffed into the speaker. Mihawk could picture him perfectly, his large hand wrapped tightly around his thick cock, face pressed to the pillow as he breathed in the scent of Mihawk’s shampoo, listened to the alluring sound of Mihawk’s voice.
Mihawk slipped a hand under the waistband of his pants, lightly dragging his fingers over his slit. He couldn’t let Shanks be the only one enjoying this. Mihawk let out a soft gasp as he pushed a single finger into himself, warm and moist.
“Hmmm. I’ve got one finger inside of me, Red, but I could use more.”
Shanks groaned, a sound both aroused and frustrated.
“If you were here…” Shanks panted, “I would -hah-I’d give you everything. I’d use my tongue to stretch you open, make you nice and wet for my cock. I’d suck you until you came in my mouth, make you squirt with my fingers deep in your cunt.”
Mihawk moaned softly, stroking his t-dick, aching for the feeling of Shanks mouth, that hot skillful tongue.
“And then what, darling? Will you fuck me?”
Shanks breathing sounded heavier, more labored when he spoke. “Yes! I’ll hold you down and fuck that tight pussy until you’re screaming for me. Wanna feel you convulsing when you cum on my dick.”
Mihawk pushed his pants down past his thighs, two fingers deep while he rubbed himself. He was so slick, his cunt twitching with every filthy word from Shanks’ mouth, aching for what he promised.
“Are you certain you can last that long?” He teased, breathless.
“Yes, yes baby, I want us cumming at the same time. Need to feel you milking me when I fill that fucking pussy.” Shanks bit out, moaning long and loud, reaching his climax faster than Mihawk.
Mihawk shuddered, the heat swirling in his stomach surged with every sound from Shanks, from his every word.
“You’d make a -hn- mess.” Mihawk panted, body trembling, hands moving furiously as he brought himself closer to the edge.
“I’ll have to fuck it back into you, make you hold onto every drop.” Shanks breathed close to the phone, his voice deep, satiated.
His abdomen tensed, that heat crested and washed over him and he let out a soft cry as he came. His thighs twitched as his hands worked, unable to suppress his unbecoming moans, riding out every electric wave. He dropped his hands onto his parted thighs when he couldn’t take any more, sticky with his release, his arousal.
“Gods you sound so lovely when you cum, Hawk. Wish I could’ve seen your face.” Shanks lamented.
Mihawk scoffed, but he wished for the same. He’d never tell him, but he loved watching Shanks. On the outside, he was a simple man, handsome, boyish, but under the surface lurked a monster that Mihawk had the pleasure of seeing on rare occasions. This duality always intrigued him, kept him coming back for more.
“You had better not have made a mess on my duvet, it’s vintage.” Mihawk remarked as he cleaned himself with a handkerchief.
“Ah.”
Mihawk grimaced. He knew that sound. The hesitation before bad news.
“That is a hand embroidered one-of-a-kind duvet and you couldn’t even bother to cum on those filthy patchwork pants you call clothing?”
Nervous laughter sounded from the phone. “Mihawk, honey, it’s just a little bit, I already wiped it up! Nothing a little water won’t fix!”
“Don’t you dare try and fix it. Knowing you you’ll ruin it further.”
“Aww, don’t be like that, you know I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Mihawk clicked his tongue, too tired to really argue. There was a strained pause. Mihawk was tempted to hang up on Shanks, but he wasn’t actually mad, just frustrated. Irritated that he was still so far from home while Shanks was in his bed.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you, baby. Come home and I’ll show you how sorry I am.” Shanks murmured sweetly, but Mihawk could hear the hunger beneath it.
Electricity fizzled up Mihawk’s spine at Shanks’ seductive tone. He physically shook his head to try and dispel Shanks’ spell, but he spoke before his brain could stop him.
“I will ensure that you make it up to me. Again and again.” He purred.
Mihawk could practically hear Shank’s smug grin through the phone, “I like the sound of that.”
“Wait for my return, Akagami. Is that something you can do that without making more of a mess?”
Fabric shuffled on the other end and Shanks’ voice came in louder, excited, “Yes, of course! I’ll be here.”
Mihawk ended the call, letting the snail crawl over his hand to find a place to sleep until called upon once more. He settled back against his boat, covering his face with his hat once more, despite the darkening skies.
It was fortunate that Mihawk was already on his way back home after his mission from the Marines. He wasn’t about to let the redhead know his exact location. Let it be a pleasant surprise when he arrived a day later. Soon, he'd be able to put Shanks’ words into action.