Challenges
This one is a competition entry as part of a forum I'm in. It something... entirely odd that I would have never attempted. Woo!
Pairing: DoflamingoxCrocodile, MihawkxCrocodile, DoflamingoxCrocodilexMihawk
Words: 2406
Warnings: Language. AU.
Rating: T
Summary: Sometimes Crocodile felt like the rope used in tug-o-war.
Challenged by: Forum~
Tug-o-War
At the ripe old age of three years old, Crocodile hadn't been on this earth long. One thing was certain though – if these two brats yanking on either of his arms didn't stop soon, they wouldn't be on this earth for their next birthday. He'd just wanted to play with the stuffed crocodile plush, was that really so much to ask? Apparently it was he realised, as a particularly hard tug caused all three to tumble together in a kid sandwich on the floor. An argument of whose fault it was replaced the argument over who would get to play with Crocodile, and he gratefully took the chance to escape to the reading area of his classroom.
Squabbling stalkers left behind, the toddler fwumped down onto the colourful carpeted floor and scowled in annoyance. He wasn't very big for his age – quite small actually – and so when Doflamingo and Mihawk started playing tug-o-war using his arms as a rope, needless to say it wasn't much fun.
Donquixote Doflamingo was a monster of a boy, almost twice the size of his classmates. He had a nasty streak that reduced half of their carers to tears and had been removed from the day-care group more than once. He kept coming back though – with parents of high standing, the carers had little choice. The money the Doflamingo's offered to accept their troublesome, spoiled son back into the establishment wasn't something to be sniffed at. Crocodile wasn't some stupid snot-nosed kid like the other brat's here, either. He knew why the blonde insisted on returning to this day-care when he could happily spend his time terrorising his own belongings and staff. It was for him.
Dracule Mihawk was no better. Even smaller than Crocodile, he was a shrimp kid to say the least; but what he lacked in size, he made up for in tenacity. Once the golden eyed brat set his sights on something, nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted. He wasn't a loud mouth like Doflamingo, either, and kept to himself most of the time, so Crocodile didn't really know much about him and didn't care to find out.
Both boys had two things in common however, despite their polar personalities; they were both used to getting what they wanted, and they both wanted him. It baffled him to no end why the two hounded him like a pair of animals fighting over a kill. He'd had a run in with both over petty things. Doflamingo had tried to steal his milk carton and he'd knocked him flat on his ass for his troubles. Crocodile might have been small, but he wasn't scared of anybody. The encounter with Mihawk had been less eventful. Most kids ran crying from one glare, and the golden eyed pipsqueak had set that fierce glare on him when they'd both reached for the same toy once time. Crocodile wasn't scared of some freaky-eyed brat though and with a passive 'what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it' expression, he'd taken the toy away with him. Since then, both boys had developed some sort of obsession with him and followed him around like stray dogs, often scrapping with each other over which he belonged to, as though he was some kind of toy. Crocodile, ever level headed, ignored their annoying presence and avoided the two like a shot from the doctor.
Somehow though, they always managed to find him.
"Croc-chan~!" came the monster-blonde's only warning before strong arms caught him around the middle and hoisted him from the soft carpet. Crocodile's eyes drooped in annoyance as a sour expression wormed its way onto his face. He didn't resist and hung there mutely as he felt the small hand of one Dracule Mihawk capture the sleeve of his sweater.
"Oi! Buzz off, pipsqueak!" the blonde hissed as he spotted the competition, but Mihawk only returned him with one of his silent, steely glares. Doflamingo huffed and proceeded to carry Crocodile away. Mihawk followed at a trot to keep up with the bigger boy's long strides and so the fighting started again. Crocodile heaved a sigh as he felt the strong arms tighten around his middle and resigned himself to a day without escape from the two idiots.
Oh well, Crocodile mused to himself, Soon I'll see the last of this place and these two idiots.
If only he's known how wrong he was.
School had not been quite as Crocodile had imagined it would be. Firstly, the kids around him were still snot-nosed brats, and secondly, the idiots were still hounding him like a pair of hyenas, minus the laughter in Mihawk's case. When he'd started this school last September, Crocodile had expected to leave those nuisances behind and start anew, but upon walking through the gates on the first day there they had been, waiting for him; Doflamingo with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face and Mihawk, stoic as ever, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
At eleven years old, Crocodile was still short for his age, and had spent the last 4 years with a home tutor away from both boys. It was clear to his teachers, parents and peers that crocodile was no ordinary boy. He was a prodigy, meant for great things. Crocodile knew better than anybody though, the damage his isolation would cause him. His mind would excel, yet his social skills would diminish, and if he wished to succeed in life, he needed both intact. With this is mind, he had decided to quietly return to a private school, and yet somehow these idiots had found him again.
With a disbelieving snort, Crocodile moved forward, ignoring the lilting greeting of 'Croc-chan~' and the following presence and the two stepped in tow behind him. If he knew them, they'd probably even worked their way into all of his classes.
This was going to be a long year.
Teenagers were far too dramatic, Crocodile decided. They stressed over futile matters – 'Does he like me?' – 'Am I getting fat?' – 'Who should I invite to the prom?' – 'Am I gay?' – 'What is my future?' – all of it, futile. Teenagers were as clueless and as snot nosed as toddlers. For a while, when his classmates had first reached their teens, Crocodile had thought he's seen some potential. They were maturing, finally losing that pathetic cry-baby behaviour. It hadn't lasted long though. His classmates and peers fumbled over decisions he'd made before he could write. They stumbled around each other like clowns and morons, making a fuss over the simplest things.
Sex was something Crocodile found no interest in. There would be plenty of time for that shit when he was successful, rich and powerful. It wasn't like the opportunity wasn't there. His teen years had been kind to him and he'd had a long awaited growth spurt that had him towering over the other teens in the class. Doflamingo of course was still taller, and Mihawk still shorter, but as usual they were still there.
At sixteen, where most of his peers were firing after each other in a hormone driven frenzy, Crocodile held no interest for such activities. Unfortunately for him, his two ever-present stalkers did. Doflamingo was loud and proud about his desires for the now 'built and sexy' black haired man. He openly taunted Mihawk about his shorter stature and finer build and never failed to raise attention to the fact that Crocodile completely ignored the golden eyed young man. He didn't really seem to notice that crocodile ignored him too! Mihawk paid no mind to the blonde and simply watched his obsession with those sharp eyes that had earned him the name 'Hawk-eyes' throughout the school. He could see the hunger in those eyes.
Crocodile ignored them both, as he always did and focused his attention solely on his studies and his influence over people. He had an empire to build, after all.
Aged twenty-eight, Crocodile was satisfied with life. He had made his fortune, had power, influence, an empire of his own, estates, popularity and a selection of men and women at any time tripping over themselves when he paid them any attention that wasn't strictly professional. Yes, life was good.
It came as quite a shock when he'd come into his office as usual one morning to the nostalgic greeting of "Croc-chan~". Crocodile hadn't seen that blonde waste of space for a good few years, and although he wasn't entirely unhappy to see him, the businessman made a mental note to up his security so that the nuisance wouldn't be able to slink in undetected again.
"Doflamingo." He greeted, blandly.
"Oh, Croc-chan~," the tall man crooned as he walked over to his 'friend'. "Not happy to see me?"
Crocodile kept his mouth shut. He'd learned fast with Donquixote Doflamingo, that whether you indulged or fought his teasing, he always won in the end, one way or another. By completely ignoring him, he gave the blonde no purchase for conversation. The waiting game proved successful as always, and before long, Doflamingo realised he would get no rise out of his obsession and hopped onto the back of Crocodile's tall lather chair, crouching there and using it as a perch like a giant bird. Crocodile ignored his presence for a while longer and sat down as if he wasn't even there, just to drive home that he was the one in charge here. He signed papers and worked on his computer, but when that annoying ever-present smirk never fell from his stalkers face, he finally turned to face him.
"Is there something you need?"
"You." The blonde answered, smirk widening. "That'd be nice."
"I'm not for sale."
"Who said I'd pay?"
Crocodile sighed through his nose and resisted the urge to rub at his temples. This man was still as annoying as ever. He'd dealt with him his entire life though, so he was used to the teasing.
"Why are you here?"
"You don't want to see me?" Doflamingo pouted and then laughed.
"I'm busy."
"You're always busy Croc-chan~."
Crocodile felt his eye twitch and drew in a silent, calming breath. "And that is why I have made myself a success and you are still leeching from your long-dead parents earnings.
"Well see, that's the thing, Croc-chan~." The blonde answered, and Crocodile had a sensation of dread rising in his gut. "About those earnings," and the blonde chuckled here and lifted his arms in a shrug. "They're all gone!"
Crocodile stared emotionlessly at the man in front of him as he cackled like a lunatic. So that was it. He'd heard a few years back that the idiot had sold his parents business when they'd died in a car crash, but he'd expected he wasn't idiot enough to blow all the money on shit like booze, parties and prostitutes. Apparently he was wrong. With a few taps of his keyboard, he had Doflamingo's information on his screen, and sharp eyes scanned over the history briefly.
"I see." He finally answered, interrupting the blonde's laughter. "You want money."
Doflamingo was quiet or a while, that infuriating smirk never faltering, looking as though he knew what Crocodile was going to say before Crocodile even did. "Actually, no." He answered and delighted in the look of faint surprise on his obsessions face. "Weren't you listening? I want you."
Crocodile considered his options briefly with a poker face that would have made Mihawk proud.
"You want to live with me then?"
Doflamingo grinned silently.
"Are you aware I'm currently living with Dracule Mihawk?"
The grin faltered ever so slightly and Crocodile resisted the urge to smirk. Obviously he was not.
"Do you think you can handle that?" the businessman pressed on, a light tone of challenge tinting his voice. The blonde didn't miss it.
"Is that an invitation?" he asked.
He accompanied Crocodile home that night and was informed that if he entered his work premises unauthorised again, he would be arrested.
Mihawk was less than pleased. It wasn't like he was in a relationship with Crocodile, but they did fuck. They fucked quite a lot actually, but right now, he was feeling pretty fucked over as he directed that familiar glare at the two that had walked through the door a few hours earlier. Crocodile ignored the sulk and picked up the phone to order pizza – just because he was rich, it didn't mean he was a snob. Doflamingo grinned at Mihawk like the cat with the cream.
That night Doflamingo wound up in hospital needing 19 stitches in his arm after Mihawk nearly cut it off with a knife.
Things settled after a while, and life was as it always had been. Crocodile was followed morning, noon and night by his two stalkers. They constantly fought over who he belonged too, who would have him and anything and everything in between. Doflamingo fought more with words and his body, where Mihawk battled with any sharp object in arms reach and his even sharper glare. Crocodile found his escape in work, where he would have eight hours of peace (hanging up on Doflamingo when he called him). At home, sometimes he fucked Mihawk, sometimes Doflamingo and other times, someone else entirely. Life with them was no different than it had ever been and he shook his head in annoyance as the two fought over him like a pair of toddlers, long spindly fingers belonging to the blonde holding a death grip on his left arm, as rough, strong talons from Mihawk clawed into his right.
The two tugged him back and forth like a tug-o-war rope and bickered over who he preferred. Crocodile mused silently, that all he was missing was the stuffed toy. He pulled his arms free and swung at the two – both dodged – before he muttered about annoying lodgers that were good-for-nothing but sex. The two argued over who was the better sex partner then and Crocodile smirked, knowing they couldn't see him.
He wondered silently whether either would figure out that he'd been playing them against each other all these years. They knew, he was sure of it, and yet they still claimed him theirs, when it was obvious both gladly belonged to him. He made his way to the bedroom, stripping out of his shirt as he went.
"Shut up and come to bed." He barked. They paused and watched his retreating back for a few seconds before following. Doflamingo with his hands stuffed in his pockets, smirking, and Mihawk with folded arms, stoic as ever.
Crocodile didn't really mind playing the tug-o-war rope for those two. He'd never tell them that, of course.