Figure I'd try out this pairing for a story. It's not too popular within the fandom, but I enjoy challenges and writing a story for these two seems right up my alley. Another AU, so "real world" rules apply. Ages and height have been modified.

Important AN: Warning; this story will deal with serious gender issues. For those of you who are aware of the more ludicrous One Piece theories out there, you may know where this is going. However, because of the eventual content that will be posted in this story, I am giving readers a warning, after all this story is set within the "real world". If you are not sure what sort of issues I will be writing about, and you are worried about how it will affect your reading experience, please PM me and I will explain you in better detail. If you are aware of the theory I've decided to write about, or you don't mind surprises (though there will be hints throughout the story), then go ahead and continue reading from here.

Thank you for your time.

-Part 1-

Memory of the First Meeting

-Then-

Before the lust and insanity there was something that resembled innocence. It could have never been called real childlike innocence because by the time Doflamingo and Crocodile met one another each had been tainted by cruel reality. Of course at his age Doflamingo wasn't aware of what made him so awful and cruel compared to the others in his classes. He was only about five at the time, when he met Crocodile, and when he learned about the games called living. If memory served correct then Crocodile had been aware of his dysphoria for several years, bringing him ahead of Doflamingo in this area by a whopping five years. Perhaps even more embarrassing to admit, Crocodile was the one to point out the distorted reality that Doflamingo willingly partaking in, not that Crocodile ever meant it. No, correction; they both performed actions that would lead to that series of horrifically unfortunate events.

Almost everything about Crocodile that evening was false. All but the smile on his face when Doflamingo asked about the treasure was a result of Crocodile staring at the mirror in his earlier stages of life and attempting to mimic what he considered to be his sense of "real." Doflamingo would discover many years later that this "real" would ultimately contradict the world he had intimately created with his close friend. This wasn't to say he was any better: Doflamingo knew his life was just as real as a plastic was natural.

On the evening he met Crocodile Doflamingo had become semi-aware of his mediocre existence. The bourgeois lifestyle provided by his well-to-do family had done nothing but entrap him in a state of nasty fanciness and nauseous over-security. With the promise of a private school and life of law and order ahead of him Doflamingo had suddenly felt the need to escape the future painstakingly planned for him and chose to run away.

With nothing but the clothes on his back Doflamingo left his home. He had no real plan other than to find a new place to call his, but Doflamingo didn't really know what life was like outside the gated community, and was shocked to see what life was out of the the tinted car windows. After running past the rows of trees that hid upper-class community Doflamingo was welcomed into the middle and lower class life. The sun was setting on busy street and the dry summer air was making everyone less than friendly. No one seemed to notice the small child who stood in shock at the smell of musty air, the sight of filthy pavement and all around lack of greenery. But even as he was ignored Doflamingo took a great interest in the strange new world he had entered into. Outside of the daycares, the parties, and the company planning events he had never seen so many people, and in so may different shades of color and attire. He continued straight and past by many onlookers who showed hardly an interest in the lost child, Doflamingo's grin confusing all who did spot him.

Eventually the child made it into a quiet neighborhood, by then the sky was a mild purple-orange. The air was still hot and dry but every so often a cool breeze would run between his bare legs and cause him to shiver, his nose tingling with new foreign scents. Doflamingo could not remember why he chose to rest here in particular, but he had indeed stopped and finally took a good look at the unusual surroundings. It was here that the most spectacular thing happened. While Doflamingo came to his abrupt stop and began to look around his eyes landed on a figure across the street, nursing on a can of New Coke, dragging a worn out backpack, and staring right back at him with a bored expression. It was the first child he had seen free outside since he had left his gated home, and the appearance of someone close to his age made Doflamingo happy since he knew by this point it was only the adults that brought misery. And because he had been raised in a sheltered community, Doflamingo knew nothing about "stranger danger" and, without looking both ways, crossed the street and met up with the older child.

Even at such a young age Crocodile appeared somewhat jaded compared to the rest of the children Doflamingo was acquainted with. Doflamingo didn't know about the five years of fighting, a year of misery, and mistook the child's lidded stare as fatigue from a long day.

"Hi," it was no surprise that Doflamingo was the one to make the first move, not so much that Doflamingo had a very open personality, but the boy in front of him disdainfully could have cared less to. He stared up at the older youth with a wide grin. "Who're you?"

The can was lowered from the dismissive face. He could see the entirety of the boy's person, and as soon Doflamingo could make out the roundness of the shape, the pale, smooth skin and lips he immediately looked away, focusing his gaze instead on dirty red Converse, then on the backpack.

"What's that?" Doflamingo asked, pointing at the object that was left lying on the sidewalk.

"Hmmm." It wasn't a question. It wasn't curiosity. It was observation.

"Huh?" Doflamingo said.

"You're lost." And this was a statement.

"What?" He asked, looking right back up.

"I've never seen you before. You look funny. You don't look like you belong here."

"Doesn't mean I'm lost," Doflamingo said, his grin fading just a little.

"You're dressed strange," the boy said. The frown on the boy's face appeared cemented on. Doflamingo disliked it, thinking the child more attractive when he was wearing the bored, tired looking mask.

"So are you," he replied back playfully, not letting the older boy's words get the better of him. He tilted to the side and peered over at the backpack. "Do you have school?" he asked.

"No, it's summer," the boy answered. "School doesn't start till September."

At that moment all Doflamingo could think about was that it was the middle of July, and according to a really catchy song, after July came August, and then after that September. "I have to start school soon," Doflamingo said, his voice dropping. "I don't want to go."

"You sound like a baby…"

"I turn six in October!" Doflamingo proclaimed.

"Great, a five year old," the boy muttered. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his small shoulders.

"Where are you going?" Doflamingo asked.

"It's private. Go back home."

"I can't," he said. He walked in front of the boy and pointed in the direction that he had run from. "The people there are dumb so I'm never going back home. I'm running away to a better place that isn't so bad!"

"You're running away?" the boy asked.

"Uh-huh," he answered. "Everything there is so…different. It's hard to explain. Nothing back home looks like…this." Doflamingo had raised his arms and waved them in emphasis, hoping the older boy would understand him. "It doesn't feel right. I can't stay there anymore."

"Cool. So I was right," the boy said. "You're lost."

"I'm not afraid of getting lost," Doflamingo said, which was very true. In fact, the idea that he was lost could only be viewed as a huge positive. If nobody at home could find him then he would be better off.

"You're going to starve and die," the boy said. He took a sip from the can and smirked. "You'll get lost in the desert and get eaten by coyotes."

"Will not," Doflamingo said.

"I saw one chase a rabbit once," the boy went on, taking pleasure from Doflamingo's growing frustration. "It caught the rabbit and the rabbit screamed! There was a lot of blood."

"If a coyote comes at me then I'll fight it."

"Do you think you'll win against a coyote?" the boy asked, still smirking at Doflamingo.

"I think I can kill it."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Doflamingo said.

"Alright then, lets go," he said.

"Go where?" Doflamingo asked.

"The desert!" the boy answered. "I need to do stuff there anyways. Maybe there will be a coyote."

Strangely enough, this didn't at all worry Doflamingo. In fact he was feeling rather confident about himself and his need to impress the older child.

"Ok," he said.

The boy grinned at him, exposing a rare sight that Doflamingo would later grow to crave. For now the boy was content with just smiling back.

"Follow me," the boy said. His hand held tightly to the strap of the backpack as he walked past the boy. Doflamingo scampered behind him, his focus growing on the cluttering sounds coming from within it.

"So what's in your backpack?" he asked.

"Stuff," the boy answered.

"What kind of stuff?"

"None of your business." The boy leered over and watched Doflamingo with suspicion.

"I promise not to tell," Doflamingo said. He fastened his pace in order to match up with the older boy. He peered up at the boy and attempted his most honest, innocent looking smile he could muster.

"Promise?" The boy repeated.

"I'll never tell anyone," Doflamingo said.

Doflamingo would eventually know this day as the day where he would get to see just about every rare, impossible act performed by Crocodile, one of them being the breaking of his very personal mantra to never, ever trust anyone. Crocodile must have known then and there that Doflamingo wasn't just an ordinary boy that was passing by. He must have somehow foreseen that he would visit this neighborhood again, many times, for years to come. Or maybe he was just over thinking the simple thought process of an eight-year-old child.

"Fine, but if you tell I'll get very angry."

"I'll keep it a secret forever."

He stared at Doflamingo warningly, waiting for the younger boy to change his mind from the threatening glare. When that didn't work he finally gave in and answered:

"It's treasure."

"Oooh, what kind?" Doflamingo asked enthusiastically. His brightened expression and eagerness had surprised the older child. But behind those shocked eyes Doflamingo would see, remember something rather special. It was something that he wouldn't ever be accustomed to seeing from Crocodile, or from anyone that he would come to be acquainted with later in life. And being that it was so genuine, so real, only would make the rest of the summers they shared together seem so meaningless compared to this moment.

"Coins. Money." Happiness.

"What are you going to do with it?" Doflamingo asked. His interest in Crocodile's personal life continued to shatter the walls that the boy had built for himself. But he didn't seem to care, only smiling back at Doflamingo's innocent questions.

"That's a bigger secret." You cannot buy happiness.

"Why wont you tell me?"

"You wouldn't understand." Doflamingo took it as an insult to his age. But there was little he could do. He submitted to the boy's whims and instead tried to change the subject.

"I'm thirsty," he said. Nearly three hours in hot summer heat had actually taken its toll on the boy long ago. Parts of his face and legs had suffered mild burns, and although Doflamingo wasn't quite aware of how severe his thirst really was, he was in fact dehydrated and in great need of liquids. But to Doflamingo he was just thirsty.

"You ran away from home without any food or clothes," the boy said. "It's going to be super hot tomorrow. You're so stupid."

"Am not," Doflamingo said. The boy stopped and handed him the can of Coke. Doflamingo took the sticky can in his hands and felt the lukewarm liquid swirling inside. He took a sip of the flat soda was welcomed with the wonderful taste of high fructose corn syrup. He licked his sweetened lips and smiled at the boy.

"Are you going to bury your treasure?" he asked.

He smiled back. "Yeah."

"Cool. Buried treasure." Doflamingo took another sip and licked his lips. "I'm hungry."

"I have a Twinkie," the boy said. Doflamingo noticed the sudden lack of hurtful comments and felt his smile grow when he came to realize that the boy that made him feel so strange was just being nice to him now. He took the snack and, having never tried cheap Hostess products before, took great delight in tasting the high fat, low nutrient treat. Once finished he wiped the stray oils that were sticking to his fingers all over his clothes. The boy patiently waited, exposing the usual tired expression Doflamingo had been greeted to before.

"How old are you?" Doflamingo suddenly asked.

"Eight," the boy answered. He was practically an adult in the younger boy's eyes.

"What's school like?"

The boy frowned. "Nobody listens," he answered. "Everyone, especially the teacher, is a retard." The last word was spat out in disgust. Doflamingo could see the same frustration he felt on the boy's face. It felt good knowing he wasn't the only person to feel this way, but seeing the boy's twisted expression made him uncomfortable, so he changed the subject once again.

"What's your name?" he asked. The question the boy had neglected to answer earlier was being asked again, and now Doflamingo needed to know the answer.

"My name?" Doflamingo could see the boy grow nervous. Crocodile hated surprises, almost as much as he hated placing trust in another human.

"Tell me your name first," the boy said. "And then, I'll tell you mine."

The first game they played together.

He followed the boy, can at hand, taking notice of the ever-changing scenery. With the sun setting lower it was becoming harder to take everything in, but somehow he managed to see that the trees were becoming sparse with every street they crossed, the roads dustier with sand and gravel, and dried bushes and small hills replacing homes. He wasn't sure how he had missed it, but suddenly Doflamingo and Crocodile had literally hit the end of the road. The neighborhood that had been so lush before was gone and now looked like it was about be eaten alive by giant rocks, hills made of sand, and gravel. Doflamingo remembered passing by the "Danger: Do Not Cross" sign, almost eager to see what lay behind the miniature mountain. He also remembered smiling, and he remembered Crocodile smiling as well. He let his hands sink into warm sand, using all fours to make his way up the mounds, and felt bits of things finding their way underneath his nails. He slipped a few times and his clothes were ruined with dirt. The can of Coke fell out of his hand and had splashed all over the place, some of it hitting Doflamingo's leg. He ignored it only because Crocodile told him to, and by now had grown somewhat impatient that he let himself slide down the large mound to help Doflamingo the rest of the way.

He remembered how small his hands were. Caked with dirt, with nails chipped and grimy, but somehow still soft, almost perfect. That small hand, gone several years later, had a thin scar running down the palm. He'd let his fingers roll down the line so many times. This was the first time he would hold his hand. Doflamingo grabbed tight to Crocodile and was pulled the rest of the way up.

The scenery was new. He imagined a desert to be flat and full of cacti like the way it was portrayed on television. Everything was misshaped, there were no roads, no roadrunners, thankfully no coyotes, and other than the occasional desert shrub, everything was sparse and empty. But he liked it. He liked that it was nothing he had expected. He liked that there were rocks of all shapes and sizes. He likes how messy everything was, that it wasn't a boring, flat valley. He liked giant piles of sand that choked his throat dry. Best of all, he like that there was no one to bother him, and that he was with someone he liked.

"Come on," Crocodile said. He ran across the curved landscape, leaving Doflamingo to admire the new surroundings all on his own. Finding it to be rather lonely at the top without the older boy Doflamingo followed, but took his time, still trying to make out the alien wasteland. Crocodile slid down and began to run over to a small cluster of rocks. Doflamingo slowly made his way down, his eyes now squinting in order to make out the various shapes that were becoming harder to see. He could hear crickets chirp, and he could also hear faraway yipping.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"This is it," Crocodile said. He pointed at the small cluster of rocks and sat himself down right next to it.

"Where your treasure is kept?"

"Yeah," he answered proudly. He lifted the rocks and carefully placed them around in a circle. Doflamingo quietly watched the delicate ritual now taking place, paying close attention to how the boy unearthed the shoebox full of precious coins, and the way he carefully dusted everything off and slowly removed the top. He opened his backpack and pulled a small bag full of change, yanked the strings open, and proceeded to dump his earnings inside the box. Doflamingo expected this to be the end, but then saw Crocodile suddenly dip his hand in the shoebox. He leaned in close and watched the boy pull out two quarters and place them by a rock. After that he placed the shoebox back in it's shallow hole and buried it. Doflamingo counted the rocks that Crocodile placed around the spot.

"You should make it into an "X"," Doflamingo said. "All you need is a few more rocks."

"That's so dumb," Crocodile said. "Everyone will know something is buried here." He picked up the two quarters and handed them to Doflamingo.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Bus fare," Crocodile answered. "Or for a phone booth." He shook his hand in front of Doflamingo, trying to get him to receive the sudden offering. "Take it and use it to go home."

"What? But why?" Doflamingo asked. He pushed Crocodile's hand away. "I don't want to go back."

"You don't know what you're doing," the boy said. "You can't runaway without taking any important things. You left without food, clothes. You probably don't even know where to go."

"So?" Doflamingo asked.

"I bet you didn't even leave a note," Crocodile said. "How can they learn a lesson if you don't tell them why you hate them so much?" He crossed his arms and shook his head. "People wont learn lessons unless you make them hurt really bad. You just left without a warning. What good is that?"

"You think you know?" Doflamingo asked.

"More than you," he answered. It was a goddamn bold statement. Doflamingo knew it was true. It was real now, ant it hurt his feelings knowing that he might be wrong to have left so unprepared.

Doflamingo frowned and stuck his tongue out at Crocodile. "I'm not going back. If I do they'll never let me go out again." He felt his eyes well up in tears, but he didn't cry. Doflamingo quickly wiped his eyes to stop any tears from fully forming. He couldn't show any weakness to this boy who seemed to enjoy his falters and frustrations. No, it would be a while before Doflamingo finally cracked and broke down. "You don't understand. They never want me to do what I want to do."

"You're so spoiled."

"No, that's not it," Doflamingo said. "They're never around. They don't even know me, but they do things for me all the time even though I never wanted them to! I hate the place where we live, and I hate all the stupid people they make me talk to. I hate them all." Saying such words made Doflamingo's face grow hot and his chest tight and cold. His dry hands hurt and his fingers almost dug themselves into his skin. But even though it hurt, there was something so liberating in saying such hurtful words about his own family.

"So you're going to run away?" Crocodile suddenly asked. Doflamingo could see the boy was less irritated with him now. Couldn't see anything else, but someone he saw the face.

"Mhmm," Doflamingo said. Then the craziest thought entered his mind. "You should come with me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Cause I think you wanna runaway too," Doflamingo said.

"Dumb idiot," Crocodile said. Extremely redundant, but Doflamingo took it as though it were an insult of great proportion.

"Don't call me that," he swiped his hand at Crocodile. "Why do you know so much?"

"...Maybe I did try before," Crocodile said.

"Where did you try to go to?" he asked, not "why didn't it work?" or "why did you try to runaway?" or anything that might have angered the boy. Just a question that would hopefully awaken some feelings, rather than pester Crocodile and continue arguing with him about who was right and who was wrong. Besides, Doflamingo had a strong feeling that he already knew the answers, which, to an extent, was true. Both of them were extremely dissatisfied with something.

"West," Crocodile answered. "I want to see the ocean. But that's all the way in California."

"Where's that?" Doflamingo asked.

"Right next to us," Crocodile said. "But it's pretty hard to get to."

"Oh," Doflamingo muttered, eyeing the small pile of rocks that hid the boy's buried treasure. "I've never seen the ocean before."

"Neither have I," the boy said.

"Maybe next time," Doflamingo said. He tugged at the bottom of Crocodile's shirt. "Hey, lets go together."

Crocodile frowned. "With you?" he asked, almost offended by the mere idea.

"Yes," Doflamingo said.

"So, you're not going to run away now?"

Doflamingo blushed. "No, not today I'm not. Later. At the end of summer. Before school starts."

"You're going to run away in the beginning of September now?" Crocodile asked. "No school?"

"Yeah," Doflamingo answered.

"Alright then," Crocodile said. "We'll go in September." Doflamingo had no understanding in the art of sarcasm and took the older boy's false promise as genuine. Of course, they wouldn't go to California in September, nor would they get to go the following year. But Doflamingo would remember the promise for years to come.

The sun was now almost completely engulfed by the scenery. The sky was dark; the moon and stars were emitting the only clear light. Crocodile escorted Doflamingo back into the neighborhood; all the while Doflamingo had so many questions he wanted to ask. Where did Crocodile live, he wondered. What school did he go to? Would it be possible for him to go with the boy?

It had to be past nine when Crocodile suddenly grabbed Doflamingo by the hand and brought him close. Doflamingo felt a sudden rush of blood race across his body as the boy ahead of him remained silent and stiff. Doflamingo could hear sirens in the distance. His eyes lowered to the hand that held his and wished there had been a coyote for him to fight.

"Crocodile," Doflamingo said. It was the first time he had ever said that name. "Where do you live?"

"…none of your business," he answered.

"I don't want them to take me away." Doflamingo frantically tugged at Crocodile's arm, his heart racing as the sounds of siren screams began to get louder, the bright red and blue flashes becoming visible in the darkness.

"You want to teach them a lesson?" Crocodile asked.

Doflamingo stopped trying to flee stared at Crocodile's growing grin.

"Wait," he said. "Wait till they stop and try to rescue you. Then run. Run as fast as you can. Let them know you don't want them in your life. Make sure your parents know you don't need them."

Doflamingo smiled. But then Crocodile let go of his hand, freeing him and abandoning him at the same time.

The police car made an immediate stop in front of the two. Doflamingo continued to look over at Crocodile to see what the boy would do, each and every time he was shocked to see such a calm expression on his face. He was so bored. This was all a game to him. Adults in uniforms hovered above him with a relived smile. They asked for his name. They waved a finger at him, scolded him for being out so late, for being so far from home, for making his mother and father worry. Poor mother, poor father, because never being home and never really knowing what their only child was up to was enough of an embarrassment. How dare he run away and have them face the sad reality that they were both so lousy at their job? A hand was offered to him. It wasn't Crocodile's, but the officers. Doflamingo turned to Crocodile, waiting for a signal. There was none, just a annoyed looking boy, arms crossed and looking away from the other officer who was trying to shame him for playing with a lost child. It was clear that he would have to do this on his own.

Doflamingo extended his arm just a bit, giving the false impression that he would obey the orders that had been given to him. It must have appeared realistic since Crocodile actually watched in mild horror as Doflamingo produced a pitiful smile at the officer. But as the officer leaned forward to take Doflamingo away the boy pulled his arm back and summoned all the energy he had and made a mad dash to the left. He coughed up air as heard the officers behind him swear and scream out his name. His body broke out in a sweat as he heard the sounds of feet stomping on pavement, quickly catching up with his. He was going to get into trouble, they warned, but Doflamingo knew this was false. They couldn't control him. He was nearly out of breath from running, and could feel wind from angry hands trying to grab him brush against his back. They wanted to capture him like a wild animal and force him back into the cage. The thought made Doflamingo produce a wide grin that stretched across his face.

He laughed. He slowed down, but he kept on laughing. And he laughed. And he laughed all the way back to the flashing car, where Crocodile stood with the officer who had both her hands griping tightly on his small shoulders, and he was laughing too. They both laughed as he was handcuffed to the car, Crocodile at the embarrassed officers, Doflamingo at the beauty that he had just seen cast before him; the reddened faces, the yelling, the messy hair covering a young boys perfect smile. They were both in love with living.

It would be more than two months before Doflamingo was lucky enough to explore this new world again. The promise of running away had not been broken, merely prolonged and turned into a long term goal. But if there was one thing Doflamingo could never forget, it was Crocodile's recognition of him after nearly eighty days of separation–the breaks in between would only grow longer–and his soft voice as he called out to him.

"Doflamingo, you're back."

Comments and Criticism welcomed.