Through The Hourglass

by vaporeon_panda

Summary:

DISCLAIMER: I am not trans, and I'm not going to claim to have a deep knowledge base of the trans experience. Please be patient with me when I inevitably get things wrong. Thank you for understanding.

OKAY! Don't freak out.

This is an off shoot of Wax Bottles that I couldn't put in the main fic because it has almost nothing to do with Peros or 3.

Anyway, this is a fic that centers around Foxy and Croc being exes, and all the shenanigans and surprisingly angst that entails. This is also a direct sequel to A Fox's Reflection but is not required reading for this one.

There might be sex scenes in here at some point, as usual I will tag those chapters and I'll bump the overall rating up.

I don't know what y'all expect me to put here, just know that I warned you. This is about as serious as I think the general premiss could be, so take that as you will.

Notes:

Hello again, let's see how this goes. I hope people like this one, but it's fair if you don't.

Also the last thing I want to do is trigger people, if something isn't tagged and I missed it I deeply apologize and will absolutely correct it when asked.

This is about having fun, not upsetting people.

Enjoy~

Chapter 1: Reunion

This was certainly an interesting first outing as a couple. Foxy took in the bustle of Emptee Bluffs Island through the shatterproof meeting room window. Brûlée sat in an ugly armchair and dozed slightly. They’d been traveling through the Mirror World for longer than expected and he wasn’t surprised by her need for a recharge. The pair had been escorted to this room shortly after their arrival by an odd couple, a man with a large 3 on his head and a very colorful gentleman with an enormous tongue. The latter introduced himself as Brûlée’s eldest brother, Prospero? Prometheus? No matter, he’d get it eventually.

They were both rather snooty anyhow, so he would try his best to avoid them in the near future. Foxy sighed, he supposed he’d have to play nice since they were engaged (already married as far as anyone else needed to know). The prospect didn’t excite him. After another minute or so the door opened and the snobby couple returned with the main heads of the Cross Guild in tow. Foxy silently placed a finger to his lips as he strode over his still sleeping wife.

“Sweetheart, your brother is back. He—” Foxy said gently nudging her shoulder before she open palm smacked him to the ground, screaming.

“Ahhhhhhhh! What? Oh! Oh, sorry. Are you alright?” She said, finally calming down but still chuckling at his expense.

“You did that on purpose!” He seethed and she chuckled to herself.

“No, but I should have.”

“Ahem, Brûlée please.” Perospero said, looking at the three guild leaders in the room nervously.

“Ah yes forgive me, we got a little lost on the way here. And you would not believe how hectic it’s been lately.” She said standing up and presenting herself to the three men. Brûlée even curtsied for good measure, “I am Charlotte Brûlée, 8th daughter of the Charlotte Family.” She paused and awkwardly held out her hand to direct attention to Foxy, “And this is my husband, Foxy.”

“Oi! I have a title and everything too, you know. I’m Silver Fox Foxy, Captain of the Foxy Pirates!”

“I’m only trying—-”

“Never heard of you.” Mr.3 said and Foxy collapsed on the floor in dejection.

“That, I was trying to avoid that. Get up, come on.” She said and Foxy begrudgingly rose to his feet and finally got a closer look at the Cross Guild in the flesh. There was Buggy the Clown and he certainly looked the part. Dracule Mihawk, a swordsman that he had met in passing a couple times before. They had no quarrel as they each wanted nothing from one another, he was too high profile for his crew. It would have caused problems for him, so he was a tad impressed by Buggy’s willingness to partner with him; that and he’d always thought Mihawk a loner. Shows what he knew he supposed. And lastly, Croc—-

“Oh, it’s you.” Foxy felt the bitterness seep into his words as he adjusted his coat. Crocodile shifted the weight between his feet and gripped his cigar. He was clearly waiting for Foxy to say more but there wasn’t anything more he particularly wanted to say. The attention of everyone in the room quickly shifted onto the sandman.

“You two know each other?” Mihawk asked, stoic as ever.

“Yes, we worked together a few years back.” Crocodile replied.

“Hm, ‘together’. A stronger word than I’d use.” Foxy grumbled.

“Hmph, I didn’t think I’d ever have the pleasure of seeing you again.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m here with my wife , and for my wife . So don’t get any ideas.”

“Tsk.” Crocodile grumbled as Foxy took Brûlée’s hand. They didn’t have time to get proper wedding bands yet, but the gesture still seemed to make the mob boss back down, “Fine. But don’t expect me to answer to you about utilizing her powers.”

“Why would you answer to me? I’m just here to protect and support her.” Foxy looked to Brûlée and quietly mouthed, “What is he talking about?” His wife mouthed back, “Later, later.” So Foxy just dropped the line of questioning entirely.

“Yes, of course. I just remembered I have some very important paperwork to do, if you’ll excuse me.” And with that Crocodile dispersed into sand and swirled out of the room. Everyone besides Foxy looked taken aback by their exchange but the other men slowly exchanged pleasant but meaningless goodbyes as they followed Crocodile in an attempt to gain some insight. Mr.3 and Perospero lingered and basically told them to wait there until they prepared a room for them to stay in. After it became clear they’d gain nothing by continuing to loiter around them and left begrudgingly. The very second the door closed, Brûlée started interrogating him.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh, I’m sure you know lots of other pirates.”

“Not well enough to talk to them like that. Did you used to date or something?” Brûlée asked and his eyebrows shot up.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked and her jaw dropped.

“Foxy, I was joking !!! What?! When was this?!”

“Ages ago, lower your voice dear, please.”

“When? How? What? You have to tell me everything.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate that.” Foxy said and Brûlée looked deeply unimpressed.

“I’m your wife now and I require a bit more context on this particular ex of yours, since we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future.” She said, caressing his chin. He sighed, she was right. He wouldn’t admit it but she was.

“Fine, but if you repeat any of this to anyone I’ll never forgive you.”

“Jeez, a tad dramatic aren’t you?”

“I’ve never told anyone else about him before, not even Porche or Hamburg.” He said and Brûlée’s eyebrows shot up.

“That serious, huh? Alright, I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Promise?” Foxy said, taking her hands.

“I promise.” Brûlée said, scooping the small man up and seating them both in the ugly armchair. He sat perched in her lap and kept his voice low as he started recounting his history with a man by the name of Sir Crocodile.

Chapter 2: The First Meeting

Notes:

I couldn't think of clever chapter titles this time around, sorry :/

On the bright side, it means I'll publish chapters just a tad faster :)

Foxy hadn’t been boxing for very long as far as the professional scene was concerned. Amateur boxing for some extra berri had been fun but he didn’t really see a career in it. After deciding he wasn’t cut out for the life of a Marine, this was the only other path forward. So, he’d put his all into it. Unless, he could be compensated enough not to of course. Enter the absolutely imposing Sir Crocodile. Sure there were some other small-time crooks that offered him a couple hundred here, or once even a thousand berri to throw a match. But Crocodile was a pirate from the Grand Line and that got people buzzing enough as it was. The large man had approached him in his sequestered corner room and offered him a hundred thousand berri to ‘make it interesting’, and considering that was the first fight he’d ever win it had certainly been interesting for him.

Foxy was never quite sure what business Sir Crocodile had in some small corner of the South Blue, but it felt nice to have something of a dedicated fan. Crocodile showed up for almost all of his matches, and he was most certainly doing other business while he was in the ring but it still flattered him greatly. After securing another win and only sustaining a few blows to the head, he stumbled back to the large main locker room to rinse off. As he entered the room he was met with Sir Crocodile sitting on a bench smack dab in the middle of it. His cigar curled in his jeweled hand as he released a large plume of smoke into the air.

“Oh, didn’t expect to see you here Sir.” He said warmly.

“You look like hell.”

“Thank you, Sir. I was just coming to fix myself up.”

“Why? You don’t look any better when you aren’t covered in blood. I suppose you could have a date.” He mused as Foxy fell to the ground dejected.

“That’s so mean…and no, I don’t have a date.” He said lifting his head to look up at the mafia don. Crocodile quirked an eyebrow at that.

“Your record is 32-2, correct? You don’t even have any ring honey’s offering pity dates?”

“Why would they be out of pity?”

“Forget it, go rinse off. You stink of sweat.”

“Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir.” He said, slinking onto his feet and almost heading into the showers before realizing he needed to remove his gloves. He looked to Sir Crocodile before opting to just use his teeth to untie them.

“Ah, ha, ha, ha. What on earth are you doing?”

“Untying my gloves, Sir.” He mumbled as Crocodile’s hand dissolved into sand and reappeared swirling by his glove, unthreading the laces quite easily. Foxy looked in awe at the disembodied hand slipping off his glove. He reflexively stretched his fingers as he admired the rings Crocodile’s fingers, “Amazing.” He breathed as the hand disappeared back into sand and reconnected with its owner.

“Heh, you blue sea people are always so easily impressed.”

“It’s hard not to be impressed, not everyday you see a real life devil fruit power.”

“Tsk, here maybe.”

“If it’s okay to ask, why are you here? In the South Blue, I mean.”

“Business.”

“Uh, okay? Hey, you weren’t sitting here waiting for me were you?”

“Ha ha, hardly. I’m making a transaction in 20 minutes, once they close up for the night.”

“Oh, so like what kind of transaction?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” He said, sneering around the cigar in his mouth. Foxy blushed despite knowing it wasn’t a real compliment.

“All right then, have a good night Sir.” He said, once again attempting to run off to the showers.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Huh?”

“Do you often shower fully clothed?” He asked sardonically and Foxy realized that at the very least he should remove his other glove. As he did he hesitated as it sunk in that Crocodile was not leaving anytime soon.

“Um…”

“What?”

“Can you turn around?”

“This is a locker room, people walk around naked in here all the time.”

“I-I know, but um…”

“We’re both men, so what’s the issue?”

“…Isn’t it rude to expose myself to someone of your status?”

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy around me. There’s certainly nothing you can show me that I haven’t seen before.”

“Alright.” He said and stripped down with his back turned towards this hardened criminal. He placed his gloves, shoes, and shorts into his locker and pulled a towel out to wrap around himself.

“See, all that fuss over nothing. Don’t you feel silly now?”

“Well-” Foxy said, turning around and immediately dropping his towel. Crocodile didn’t react with any sort of flourish as he exhaled another small puff of smoke. Foxy quickly covered himself and profusely apologized before bolting into the shower stalls for the final time.

“Not bad, he’d do in a pinch.” Crocodile said to himself and Foxy tried very hard to dwell on the comment making his whole body tingle.

Chapter 3: Through Sickness

Foxy had been asked to throw a match yesterday and despite his best efforts the other boxer was just too awful to let win. He knew that meant a fight in multiple ways later but he couldn’t be bothered to care right now. He’d been distracted lately and it was all Sir Crocodile’s fault. The way he smoked his cigars, held them in his teeth. Well, he hadn’t been smoking them for quite a while now but he still thought about it. The way his waistcoats hugged his massive chest, which he hadn’t seen either lately. Crocodile had been coming to matches with his large coats actually worn properly on his body. It wasn’t even something he could be upset about; it was a cold spring.

It had snowed on his birthday, trapping him in his crumby lodging and causing a whole mess of scheduling problems. The wind was also so bitter and biting that he’d had to pony up for a coat of his own. Tonight’s match ultimately ended up being canceled anyway because the other boxer’s ship had gotten stuck in the frozen harbor. It was almost May for crying out loud, this was ridiculous. He strode into the empty locker room to retrieve some old clothes that needed to be washed and was met again with Sir Crocodile sitting on a bench. He looked tired and much less comfortable than the last time.

“Hello again, Sir.” He said and Crocodile nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh! It’s just you. Sorry, I thought everyone else had left already.”

“They did, it’s just me. Manager already locked up for the night, so even he’s  gone.” Foxy said, opening his locker. The larger man winced and placed a hand to his stomach, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, ha, just a stomach bug. It will pass soon.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Foxy said, removing a duffel bag from his locker and preparing himself for the freezing trek back to the shack he lived in. As he turned to leave he saw the larger man doubled over on the bench. He quickly ran back over to him and helped him sit upright, careful to avoid touching his stomach, “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I already have, thank you.” He snarled at him and nudged him away with his hook. Foxy placed a hand to his forehead and felt the massive amount of sweat drenching it.

“You’re overheating, you need to take off this massive coat.”

******

“And?” Brûlée asked, impatiently.

“What’s to tell? He had a massive fever and I helped him to the manager’s office before taking him back to his hotel.” Foxy said in a flippant manner. 

“How sweet of you, he could have been contagious you know.” She said, skepticism clear in her voice.

“Eh, I was young. You don’t really think about getting sick when you’re a headstrong kid. After that, I offered to check in on him the next few days.”

“And he accepted?” She asked.

“Hey, who’s telling the story here?”

“Alright, sheesh. Then what?”

“He accepted and I made sure he was alright before he headed back to the Grand Line. The next time I saw him was 4 years later.”

Chapter 4: Through Health

Foxy was restless, he was getting tired of being passed over by the Grand Line talent scouts. They said he didn’t have the right look for the big leagues. He was well aware that what they were really saying was that his face was the problem.

“Nobody would want merchandise of such an ugly mug.”

“Yeah, a mother couldn’t even love that face.” Just a couple of quips he’d heard the management saying behind his back. He won his matches, he had the skills, but it wasn’t ever going to be enough. Typical. He headed back to the locker rooms and was stunned to find Sir Crocodile sitting on the bench just as he had the first time they’d really ever talked. His fingers curled around his cigar and a warm smile was plastered on his lips.

“I’m surprised you’re still hanging around this dump.”

“It’s not by choice, I assure you.” He spat but hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“How’s business?”

“Fine, just fine.” He paused and looked at the chipped tile floor, “Would you be interested in going to dinner with me?” His voice rumbled through his chest and Foxy thought he was hallucinating.

“Oh, uh…”

“It’s alright if you have other plans, actually forget it. ” Crocodile said, raising off the bench and preparing to take his leave.

“No,no, it’s just…well. I don’t think I keep anything you’d deem presentable in my locker.”

“Then come back to my hotel, I’ll give you something nice.” He almost purred as his hook slipped under his chin. Foxy was taken aback by how forward Crocodile was being, especially since he hadn’t seen or heard from him in years.

“Should I rinse off, or…?” Foxy asked. Crocodile removed his cigar and smiled deviously down at him. Ah, it was that sort of evening.

“Just get your things.” He said walking past Foxy and starting down the hallway. Foxy grabbed his coat and almost sprinted after Crocodile as they walked back to his hotel.

After a brisk walk to the same hotel the man had stayed at 4 years ago, (which Foxy still felt a twinge of guilt about what had happened to the room last time) they arrived at Crocodile’s suite. He could have sworn it was the same one he’d stayed in last time, but these hallways in larger hotels all sort of look the same. The interior was redone but that mostly meant new wallpaper and gaudy furniture. Bed was in the same place and the bathroom looked as clean as you could hope for in any hotel. As soon as the door shut behind them Crocodile was pulling him into a deep passionate kiss. His natural charms were prevailing yet again. When Croc broke the kiss he trailed his thumb across his lips.

“It’s been too long.”

“That’s not entirely my fault, but I suppose you were too busy to think of me.” He said, mostly joking but a little bit serious.

“Sort of, I was having a little work done.”

******

“You’re not going to elaborate are you?” Brûlée asked and Foxy just grinned at her, “Are you at least going to tell me some of the more lurid details?“

“You and I both know that’s not necessary.”

“No, but it could give me ideas~”

“Nice try, no cigar.”

“Hmph, I’ll remember that when you want something later.”

“Like you could keep your hands off me.” He said preening.

“So, the short version is you enjoyed each other’s company and then had a lovely dinner date.”

“Basically.”

“And you brought this up, because…?”

“I’m getting there! Now, the next day…”

*******

Despite his lovely evening with Sir Crocodile he was still in a sour mood when it came to tonight’s bout. His opponent had been scheduled last minute and had absolutely no zeal for the sport. He was just some pretty boy that had only achieved his record through match fixing and other sorts of bribery. The final straw came in the form of some pre-fight trash talking. This arrogant man with a strong prominent chin had a lot of nerve.

“What sort of respectable man lets himself be paraded around by some thug in a cheap suit.” The man said pointedly about Sir Crocodile. It was at that point he’d had enough, and he planned to really knock the wind out of this punk’s sails. In hindsight, this had been a ploy for him to do something stupid which he’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for. Foxy had put horseshoes inside his gloves to really wipe the smug smile off of that guy’s face.

Of course, the guy just so happened to get an “anonymous tip” that he’d brought a weapon into the ring and just like that he’d had his license permanently revoked. The contents of his locker were thrown at him and he was booted from the club. Foxy kicked up the dirt beneath his feet and screamed every obscenity he could think of at his former employer, who’d long since slammed the door in his face. When he finally started to gather his things Crocodile had stepped out with him into the purple dusk of the evening.

“Why the hell did you do that?” He asked, cigar in hand and cool and collected as ever.

“Because I couldn’t stand that guy. He deserves to get his jaw broken.”

“Hm, I don’t disagree.”

“He called you a thug in a cheap suit.”

“Oh? So, you were defending my honor? How touching.” He paused and took a drag on his cigar, “And utterly pig headed.”

“Kick a man while he’s down, why don’t ya?” Foxy said, already groveling on the ground trying to gather his things.

“Do you, have anything else lined up?” Crocodile asked, his tone as cautious as when he asked for them to go on a date.

“No.” Foxy said, as the gravity of what he’d done was finally hitting him.

“…I’ve been in the market for some more security for my casino. I was going to offer you the job last night, but I thought it might be taken the wrong way.”

“What way is that?”

“Not important. Will you come back to the Grand Line with me?”

“Of course! Not like there’s anything left for me here.” He said getting up and dusting himself off, “Oh, would it be too much to ask if I can grab my things, Sir?”

“Of course not, besides I have a small errand to run myself. Meet me back at the hotel in an hour.”

“Understood!” Foxy said, saluting the warlord who smirked as he ducked back into the club. Foxy ran off to gather the very few possessions he actually cared about and or needed which didn’t take very long at all. He spent most of the hour sitting in the hotel lobby. When Crocodile finally arrived exactly on the hour he was dusting a bit of sand off of his coat.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Not really, what did you need to do there anyhow?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just sending a few messages, that droll sort of thing.”

“Well, I hope you gave one to that punk while you were there.”

“I certainly did. You should have seen the color drain from his face.”

“Serves him right.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Crocodile grinned as he put an arm around his shoulders and led him back up to his room.

Chapter 5: The Departure

Notes:

CW: There is brief mention of the slave trade in the OPverse, It's not tagged because it's not going to be referenced at length.

This chapter also contains discussion of unhealthy relationship dynamics and not the most respectful discussion of
an afab person.

The second one is NOT a transphobia warning but I'm mostly concerned it could come off as such.

I am not trans, and I'll probably get things wrong or accidentally say something offensive, it is not purposeful but and I mostly want to temper exceptions going forward.

Again, I don't want to upset people and please know if additional tags should be added.

“So you were just some hired muscle?” Brûlée asked.

“Well, it ended up being more of a body guard position. He did have me work Rain Dinners occasionally, but not very often. Sometimes he would bring me to meetings where his associates preferred a bit of sport for their entertainment. Illegal boxing ended up being way more fun than the leagues ever were.” Foxy said, reminiscing about the good times they’d shared.

“But…?” Brûlée gestured for him to get to the point.

“But, over time it became clear to me why Crocodile was such a successful criminal. Despite his outwardly abrasive demeanor, he could always say exactly what other people wanted to hear. It’s an admirable trait, but when it’s used against you it stings.”

“Hm, he got you to the Grand Line and then things were different.”

“Yes, which I anticipated. I didn’t really know him that well, and I was hopeful that we would be more than just sexually compatible. That was not in his interests at all.”

“Perhaps he just had trouble expressing himself.”

“No, no, I was very much a pet, a bodyguard, hired help. In private, he would occasionally say otherwise and often gave me gifts to try and buy my continued affections.” He paused, recalling his 25th birthday, “He even gifted my devil fruit to me. It was a birthday present.” Foxy paused as he remembered how sweet of a gift he’d thought was initially. It was only later that he started to resent it as Crocodile bragged to his associates about how he was simply ‘optimizing his assets’. Brûlée’s silence told him that she understood, it likely wasn’t the exact same experience but it was comforting to share this regardless.

“It…I’m sorry you experienced that.”

“Feh, water under the bridge. But you understand how a lot of things like that can build up and cause problems.”

“Yes, I’m familiar.”

“I only worked with him for 5 years. In the end, I let my temper get the better of me again.”

*******

Alabasta was a beautiful kingdom, he never quite fit in with the locals but he loved it nevertheless. The casino was a nice stable place to work and Croc had established his hero status. Sure, he was completely two faced and it was obvious to anyone who knew him even a bit better than acquaintance but Foxy didn’t mind. After all, that’s what being a criminal meant. Pirates, cheats, thieves, they were all of the same ilk.

However, his hopes of learning anything meaningful about the man were dashed relatively soon after his relocation to this desert island. If anything their relationship had almost dissolved entirely. Crocodile barely spoke to him in public unless it was absolutely necessary. When they traveled, he would get two rooms and if they didn’t connect it was Foxy’s job to be discreet about his comings and goings. It made Foxy feel cheap and used. His resentment increased each time he was ordered around like a dog in public and showered with affection in private.

He was still pissed that Croc hadn’t even honored his only request for his birthday that year; have an actual public date. Not hold hands or make out in public or anything scandalous like that. Foxy just wanted to be able to sit across from him at a restaurant and talk, or be friendly at least. He had dinner by himself after Crocodile sent him a message that he couldn’t make it but they could meet in his office later.

The only decency the man had was to pay for his food. Foxy almost didn’t go see him afterwards, let him get stood up for once. He went anyway and was less than pleased by the mood lighting and brandy glass waiting for him. He couldn’t even remember if Crocodile had given him an actual present that year, maybe sleeping with him was it. It didn’t truly matter to him. His hopes for anything more from the relationship died that night, like the ash from the cigars they smoked afterwards.

It was a couple weeks later when they had just returned from a trip to Drum Island. Croc was trying to do some trade negotiating on behalf of Alabasta but that Wapol guy was completely obnoxious. They couldn’t even recruit any medical professionals since that stupid hippo ran almost all of them out of his kingdom. That was part of the reason they even agreed to do this in the first place, since Croc had quietly fired (dehydrated) the last doctor they had on hand. This trip had been a total waste of time.

As they stepped off the ship and into the cool night air of Alabasta, Croc pulled out his cigar case and placed his fingers on one of the neatly packed in smokables before hesitating. He shook his head and closed it before turning his attention to Foxy.

“It’d be a waste. I’m completely exhausted.”

“Hm? Oh, are you speaking to me?”

“Who else would I possibly be talking to?”

“It wasn’t an order, so I couldn’t be sure.” Foxy said, and he heard Crocodile tut at him.

“I already apologized and I don’t do that often.”

“So, I should be thankful? Feh, some gracious hero you are.”

“What do you expect from me? I can’t go traipsing about the streets arm and arm with you. People talk, and then there’s those vultures we call the press.” He paused huffing and rubbing his temples, “Besides, I’d prefer to keep you out of trouble.”

“Feh feh feh! That’s rich, absolutely rich. I’m a grown man, you don’t have to babysit me.”

“Yes I do, because I don’t want you to screw anything up; or worse. And if you just do as I say, you won’t get hurt or in the way!”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Foxy said, spitting on the ground in disgust.

“Watch it.” Crocodile warned.

“Pfft.” Foxy waved him off dismissively. The silence that settled between them was broken by a woman screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Let go of me, you creep!” She shouted as she struggled to get out of the hold of a group of men. Two more thugs pulled her arms behind her back and pushed her to the ground. Next to her was a much larger man who was gagged and his hands bound. They were definitely slave traders, and it was certainly brazen for them to come out this far from Sabaody. Foxy waited for Crocodile to give him orders before dispatching them, but he remained silent.

“Sir?” Foxy asked hesitantly.

“Hm, they’re of no concern to me.” He replied and Foxy was appalled.

“But they’re just doing this out in the open, and it’s not even their territory!” Foxy argued. Crocodile pointed to a ship at the other end of the harbor, its flag had a smiling circle for a jolly roger with a line drawn through it.

“That flag means it’s none of our business, besides they’re not grabbing citizens; just a couple of tourists based on their ridiculous attire.” Crocodile started down the street and Foxy felt his blood boil. Foxy was aware of the black market for people, but he had been proud that Crocodile didn’t stoop to that level. He could no longer think that.

Foxy dashed over to the group of thugs and immediately socked one of them in the jaw. The man fell to the ground in a heap as another one released the girl and grabbed him. As it would turn out she didn’t need that much assistance as she headbutted the man still holding her arms in the jaw. The sound it made was brutal. Another man tried to grab Foxy’s other arm but he retracted it in pain as a rose shaped shuriken was embedded in it. Foxy elbowed the other man and ran to untie the other person. The thugs were quickly realizing the tides were turning against them as they started to scramble away.

“Noro noro beam!” Foxy yelled as he fired off a beam and the crooks froze in place. He finished untying the larger man and proceeded to use the same rope to string the thugs together. Once the 30 seconds were up, he pulled the rope and they all smashed together in an unconscious heap; ready to be turned in for some pittance of reward money. He dropped the rope and the woman pulled him into a bone shatteringly tight hug.

“Amazing~🩷!” She praised and Foxy felt pride stirring in his chest.

“Thank you, very much.” The larger man mumbled, bowing his head so that his forehead touched the ground. 

“Oh yeah.” The woman said as she copied him, “We’re totally in your debt, Mr.?”

“None of that mister stuff, my name is Foxy.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I’m Porche and this big guy is Hamburg~🩷” She said her chipper attitude surprising after their ordeal. Foxy looked back over at Crocodile who was seething in anger. He watched the man bottle it up as he strode over to the thugs and pretended to be shocked. His false kindness was sickening as he offered the two people Foxy saved a place to rest for the evening. 

“We shall dispose of these animals, you two should only be concerning yourself with resting.” Crocodile said, and Foxy rolled his eyes. Porche and Hamburg accompanied them to the hotel they planned on staying at and after making sure they were settled in for the evening, Foxy and Croc dumped the thugs off at a local jail to be dealt with in the morning. As they walked out into the night air the silence returned. Foxy went to join Hamburg and Porche in the second room but Crocodile stopped him.

“With me.” The kindness in his voice had vanished and Foxy knew this was it. He reluctantly followed the logia user to his room. Foxy couldn’t remember everything that was said, or more accurately screamed. Crocodile broke a couple vases but Foxy was just thankful he didn’t throw them at him. He did remember how it ended.

“I can’t work with someone who doesn’t follow orders.” Crocodile said. Foxy had received similar reprimands before, but he was at his limit.

“Maybe I would have obeyed orders if you just treated me with any kind of respect.”

“Respect?! You’re nothing but a washed up backwater boxer, I’ve given you everything you have!”

“I never asked you to!” Foxy said and a lull came in their shouting, “I was clearly stupid to think having your trust meant a damn thing.” He watched Crocodile fist his hand into his hair, completely mussing it up.

“Foxy, I…”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore.” He cut in sharply, “I never asked for exclusivity, I never asked for public displays of affection, and I never asked for you to even like me back.”

“I told you—”

“All I ever wanted was to be your partner, maybe not in business, but in other ways. That’s just it isn’t it, I’ll never be good enough for you. Just like with my manager!”

“I never said that. Foxy please, I just need a couple more weeks to sort some things out. After a bit of damage control we can move past this.”

“No! I’m done waiting. You’ve left me out in the cold one too many times. I’m taking those two wherever they want to go and after that I’m heading straight to Water 7. I’ll get a boat and live on the sea. I’ll have a massive crew and we’ll have a wonderful time, because I’ve wasted too much time on you!” Foxy said and threw open the door. He took a deep breath as he was finally convincing himself to walk out that door. Crocodile’s voice was quiet, probably just so they wouldn’t disturb any other guests now that the door was open.

“Please, I need you to give it one more week. It’s important.”

“Feh, sorry. I won’t be able to make it. Oh, and if you ever find me again out on the Seas, don’t expect me to sprinkle some rose petals or light any candles for you.” Foxy said, slamming the door.

*****

“That was the last time we spoke, until today of course.” Foxy said and Brûlée looked concerned.

“His request didn’t strike you as odd?”

“Pfft, no! Why would it? He did that sort of thing all the time. ‘Give me a week, give me a month, give, give, give’. The timeframe never mattered, he wouldn’t change a damn bit.” Foxy said, leaning back on the arm of the chair and resting his head against his hand.

“You’re not leaving anything out are you?”

“Just the more intimate details, since once again, you don’t need those.”

“Hmmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Anyway from there, I formed my crew since Hamburg and Porche decided to stick with me. And the rest is history.” He said and Brûlée seemed to be lost in thought.

“He didn’t try to contact you at all?”

“Uh, no? I made it pretty clear he shouldn’t bother. What are you so hung up on?”

“Sweetheart.” She took Foxy’s hands and made him look at her, “Correct me if I’m wrong but he’s well…you know.”

“Gay? I thought that was obvious.” Foxy said, confused.

“Transgender! He’s trans, right?”

“A—What?”

“It’s important, yes or no?”

“…yes. But he has always gone by Sir Crocodile as long as I’ve known him.”

“Was, ugh there’s no good way to ask this, is there?” She paused and thought for a minute, “Was everything…functional down there?” Brûlée gestured around her pelvis and Foxy had to think about what she was actually asking.

“I really don’t think I should answer that.” He decided, because it was none of her business!

“Fine, if you won’t tell me; I’ll just have to go ask him myself.”

“What?! No,no,no you can’t do that. He’ll be furious! What if he tries to retaliate against you?”

“Then my family will come down upon him like a mass of hornets and avenge me.” She said picking him up and setting him down on the floor. Brûlée stretched her arms above her head and inhaled slowly. She smoothed out her dress before walking right out the door. Foxy trailed behind her slightly and pleaded for her to reconsider.

“Please, you can’t try to use this as leverage against him. You promised!” He said attempting to block the door to Crocodile’s office. It was clearly labeled and everything.

“Is it really breaking my promise if I’m getting his side of it? Besides, I don’t care about some petty blackmail scheme. I have a more pressing concern and since you’re being so cagey about it, I’ve simply got to get an answer from him.” She said, opening the door and easily pushing Foxy out of the way.

“Come on in, make yourself at home.” Sir Crocodile said sarcastically as he pulled his cigar from his mouth.

“Do you have a minute? And by minute I mean a couple hours to discuss some history you have with my husband.”

“What the hell did you tell her?” Crocodile rose from his desk and strode over to Foxy.

“Just the important parts, I swear.” Foxy said and Crocodile’s glare turned murderous, “What? Am I supposed to lie to my wife?” He asked and Crocodile backed down.

“Let’s go somewhere private to talk, shall we?” Brûlée said, opening a mirror portal in the wall. Crocodile was a bit taken aback by it but regained his composure quickly.

“I’m not going through that.” He said flatly.

“Why not? It’s really cool and you can leave anytime you wish, right?” Foxy said, giving her a look and Brûlée watched Sir Crocodile; a man known for his intimidation and brutality, fold like a cheap suit.

“Fine, but I’m leaving the second she asks me something stupid.” He said as he stepped through the mirror with the pair following behind him.

Chapter 6: In Confidence

Notes:

CW: Very vague discussion of past pregnancies and (magical? via devil fruit) f to m transitioning.

Most of it is vague but I'm still putting a warning here.

Things were never boring with the Cross Guild, certainly. Between planning a wedding for his cowering former agent and quite possibly the most pompous person he’d ever met to the constant chaos of the literal circus, he found it difficult to get time to just sit and think. After finally getting the swordsman and the clown out of his hair and his office, a new pair of clowns simply barge in and demand his attention. Truly never a dull moment. When Perospero had explained the importance of his sister and her powers to the management and stability of their crew, Crocodile couldn’t quite visualize it. This first hand demonstration was certainly clearing it up for him.A whole dimension that in theory connected to anywhere in the world.

How in the name of all that was holy did Foxy manage to convince her to marry him of all people? Sure, she was no Boa Hancock but this was a level of settling that he almost pitied. On the other hand, he supposed he understood. He had a type of weird charisma that few people had on these waters. Much as he was loathed to admit it, he was not immune to it either. Despite being able to fight through that infectious energy that people like the clown and strawhat possessed, he found it difficult to raise a hand to Foxy. It made him feel pathetic, letting this man say whatever he pleased in front of an audience no less. And yet.

Foxy did possess one unique skill compared to the other two, he was able to keep his mouth shut. At least, he’d thought that. Since his wife had burst in demanding to speak to him, he began to feel paranoia about just how many people he’d spread rumors and gossip to about their time together. Crocodile did take comfort in what he’d overheard of their bickering, and he supposed the entire reason for her insistence on speaking to him was because Foxy was leaving things out. The man had said as much. Still it didn’t pay to be so trusting.

After a few more jumps through a couple of mirrors (navigating this must be nightmarish to do on a constant basis), they arrived at a house of all things. There were some very slapdash repairs to the exterior, but otherwise it was a quaint little place.

“This is her house, so don’t break anything.” Foxy said to him and he scoffed.

“Do you not live here with her?” He asked and Foxy had to think about it. He was still as dense as ever. It was nice to see some things hadn’t changed.

“To be straight with you, our coupling was more of a recent development.” Brûlée said and Foxy paled.

“Don’t just tell him that! You might not want to blackmail him, but he’d do it to us in a heartbeat!”

“We’re going to be asking him some very personal questions, if we want his cooperation we must also be a little vulnerable.” Brûlée explained.

“ ‘We’? Oh no, there’s nothing I want to hear from him. I already lived it, thank you.” Foxy pouted as he stood in the doorway of the house, “You’re probably not even going to get anything out of him.”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Crocodile asked and immediately regretted it.

“Alright fine, you want to get this over with that bad? Are you trans?” Brûlée asked and Crocodile almost dropped his cigar. His mouth hung open and he looked at Foxy who looked increasingly stressed.

“Pa-Pardon?” He asked. The anger wasn’t even hitting him, he was more confused on how she didn’t have a clear answer about that.

“She figured it out, I didn’t tell her at all. I don’t know how.”

“Foxy, I have 84 siblings. Do you really think that not a single one of them is even a little bit trans?” She asked very bluntly and this would probably amuse him later. In the moment he imagined this was the mortification one would experience when coming out to supportive but clueless relatives.

“Well, when you put it that way…I should have said less.” Foxy said.

“It was more of a hunch, but that’s not important.” Brùlée said.

“Give me one good reason as to why I should not be turning you into a sandbox right about now.” Crocodile said, his anger finally flooding into his chest.

“You’d be stuck here with him for all eternity.”

“What?!” Both of them shouted.

“Consider, I have to allow access into the Mirror World in a couple different forms. Kill me here, my fruit reappears here. Neither one of you can consume it without dying and no one can permit you to leave.” She said, casually examining her ghoulishly long nails.

“So, I am trapped here.”

“No, you just have to make your way back on your own. Which, you can’t possibly get lost; you just ask the mirrors for directions.” Brùlée said casually.

“I don’t know what the hell that means, but I am very irritated with you.”

“You never answered my question.”

“It’s not any of your business.”

“I suppose, but do you know what is my business?” Brûlée paused and got in Crocodile’s personal space, her hand grabbing him by cravat and really highlighting just how much larger she was than him, “I think it would be about 9 or 10 years old by now.” Crocodile felt his stomach drop. His mouth felt dry and he almost left without indulging this conversation at all.

“What would?” Foxy asked, he finally stepped through the door and politely closed it behind him. His expression made it clear he had no idea what they were referring to, but that somehow made him feel even worse. Crocodile felt ill. Thankfully Brûlée released him, but his thoughts became muddled. When clarity came back to him, he was seated in an armchair in some sort of tea room. Brûlée was seated in a chair beside him.

“You know, given your reputation I really didn’t expect a panic attack.”

“I don’t have panic attacks.” He said, his voice was shaky and he resented it.

“ ‘Kay, you had something that resembled a panic attack.”

“Where’s Foxy?” He asked, giving up on arguing over it.

“He’s trying to make us tea, but for some reason…” She paused, and pulled out a small tin of tea leaves, “He can’t seem to find my tea leaves.” Oh, this woman was devious. He was beginning to appreciate her powers of perception.

“So, you wished to speak to me alone?”

“In a way, I mostly wanted focused answers from you. Foxy is sweet, but he can be quite dense sometimes. As I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“Ha, yes. That’s putting it mildly.”

“He told me about when he was still boxing and found you sweating bullets in the locker room. Claimed you had a fever, but that’s not true, is it?”

“You really go for the jugular don’t you?”

“Well, we either have an hour or 5 minutes. There’s no telling with him.” She said and that was most certainly true.

“No, it’s not. Did he…?”

“Foxy said you claimed to have a stomach bug. That and you hiding your stomach, the missing cigars; it drew me a pretty clear picture.”

“He made a valiant attempt, I suppose.”

“Obviously, that one wasn’t his but…well that really is none of my business.”

“I’d like to know a little bit more about you before I start spilling my guts to you, after all you implied you were somewhat willing earlier.” He said and Brûlée visibly bristled.

“What would you like to know?”

“You mentioned your coupling being more of a recent development, how recent?”

“Less than a week.” She confessed and Crocodile was intrigued.

“And I assume you’ve known him for roughly the same amount of time.”

“Yes, the Charlotte family reputation holds true in this case. Just without my Mother’s stamp of approval.”

“I see, but I was given the impression you were quite important to your crew. Won’t your mother be upset that a valuable asset has her attention diverted from the crew?” Crocodile asked and Brûlée laughed in his face.

“How the crew views me and how Mama views me are two completely separate things, and Mama’s opinions always take precedence. She labeled me damaged goods ages ago, I’m banking on her forgetting that none of my previous engagements survived.”

“Doesn’t that make him hesitant about being with you?” Crocodile asked, wondering how flawed Foxy’s self preservation instincts really were. 

“In what I’ve come to understand of the world, it doesn’t make any sense. Sure, he gains a little bit of safety from being associated with our crew but we aren’t exactly top of the food chain anymore. He saw that too, with all the damage to the main island.”

“Foxy is not deterred by things like basic logic.” Crocodile mused.

“That’s true.” She said smiling, it was jarringly different to her usual facial expressions. Crocodile had quickly appraised her as an archetypal crone, and couldn’t understand Foxy’s interest in someone like that. He should have realized that despite Foxy’s thickheaded behavior, he was often quite good at reading people. Words meant very little to him, it was actions and expressions where Foxy excelled in intelligence.

“Would you say that you love him?” The question felt odd on his tongue, he considered love to be a meaningless emotion. Affection and attraction were clear and definitive to him. Love was nebulous and used to justify hurting other people more than anything. So, why had he asked in the first place?

“I don’t know if I can say that for certain. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt the sort of romantic love that most people associate with the word. I will say this, if there’s a single person who’s ever felt that way about me; it’s Foxy.”

“How do you figure?” Crocodile asked unconvinced.

“Because, he treats me with a certain type of kindness no one else ever has. So, if that’s not love, what is?” She asked and it forced Crocodile to consider her point. When you are robbed of specific types of kindness, how do you know when it’s being offered? Brûlée might feel unloved by her mother but her siblings (at least Peros) clearly care for her. Crocodile didn’t think he was capable of giving or receiving any kind of love, if it was ever offered it was too foreign for him to understand, “Is there anything else you’d like to know?” She asked and Crocodile began to grow bored by this mushy conversation.

“Have you slept with him yet?” He asked bluntly.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been so damn curious about my sex life, turnabout is fair play and all that.” He said smirking and she fumbled over her words.

“I mean, you’re not wrong but uh, eh he he…”

“Don’t get embarrassed now, it’s not like I’m in any position to judge.”

“True it’s just, not something I expected you to ask. But if you must know, yes we have.”

“And? You’re alright with a man of his, let’s say proportions.”

“Very much so.”

“He’s very skilled with his hands isn’t he?” Crocodile said, mostly to rile her up a bit more.

“He certainly is, and he’ll just really get in there too.” She said and he regretted saying anything. He did notice they both crossed their legs at the same time and chose to ignore that completely, pivoting to a completely unsexy topic.

“Moving on, I still struggle to understand his actions back then. I was too much of a mess to just dispose of him, he could have spread rumors or outright paraded me around like a freak.” Crocodile felt her eyes on him. It felt so strange to say any of this out loud to another person, “He got absolutely nothing out of helping me, but he did. It wasn’t an ideal situation but he made sure it was all safe and private. Well, as private as giving birth in some shitty hotel room could possibly be.”

“Oh lord, please tell me he didn’t-“

“Oh my good god no, he got an actual doctor for that. Told him I was his wife, covered my scar by pulling my hair over my eyes and hid my hook under the bed.” He smiled at the fact that something so stupid had completely worked.

“Wow, that’s, wow.” She chuckled a little.

“I was confined to that hotel room for roughly two weeks and he stayed with me the whole time. Even when he held the little screaming fucking thing he still called me ‘Sir’.” He said pulling out a fresh cigar. He dissolved the very tip and tapped it before putting it in his teeth and pulling out his lighter.

“All that and you still managed to fuck it up somehow.” Brûlée said, her voice quieter which did nothing as he still very much heard her. He lit his cigar and puffed a plume of smoke into her face. She frowned at him and fanned it away with her hand, “What became of the kid?”

“I’d love to say, ‘I don’t know, that’s the sperm donor’s problem’ but…”

“But?”

“If I told you, you’d never believe me.”

“There were a lot of things I wouldn’t have believed in before this past month, so please, enlighten me.”

“No, this is one I’d prefer to take to my grave. I don’t think I could live it down if my bounty increased because of that being public knowledge.” He could tell that statement alarmed her a little bit but thankfully that wasn’t too much information.

“I don’t have time to fully process what that means. So, I’m just gonna move on.” Brûlée said and Crocodile shrugged. He wasn’t going to argue, “Now, after that harrowing experience, how did you manage to have a repeat offense? So to speak.”

“The short answer is a botched medical procedure and poor judgment.”

“And did you end up actually going through with it?”

“Call me crazy, but I had hoped he would come back. At least to gloat about his pirating career, if nothing else.” Crocodile couldn’t bear to admit that he had wanted to see the man’s face as he held his own son in his arms and not the product of someone else’s mistakes, “So, yes.”

“And when he didn’t?”

“I managed to track down Ivankov, I’m sure you’re familiar?”

“The miracle worker?’ I am, slightly, we have spoken perhaps twice.”

“I wanted to be sure something like this would never happen to me again.” He said and she nodded in understanding. Brûlée opened her mouth to almost certainly ask what happened to that kid but she stopped when Foxy reappeared. He quickly spotted the can of tea leaves on the table and shot her a judgmental look.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted to keep me from distracting you.” Foxy said as he strode over to his wife and nuzzled her neck.

“Oh, stop it you. I just wanted you out of our hair for a few minutes.” She giggled as he trailed kisses up her neck, “Knock it off, we have a guest.” Brûlée said but made no effort to stop him, if anything she was encouraging him by craning her neck to the side to give him better access. Crocodile certainly wasn’t becoming extremely and intensely jealous as he watched Foxy place a single gentle kiss to this woman’s lips. After they broke apart she leaned forward to reclaim his lips and Crocodile couldn’t help it as he awkwardly blurted out the answer to Brûlée’s main concern.

“To answer your question, would you like to meet him?” He said, gripping the arm of the chair like it was going to take off running. The couple stared at him, Brûlée in disbelief and Foxy with the same cluelessness he usually had. Crocodile knew he could only blame himself for how badly this was about to go.

Notes:

Happy Pride? I really didn't mean for this fic to coincide with Pride month.

Be safe out there <3

Chapter 7: Panic

Foxy was surprised to learn that Crocodile had another kid. After everything he’d come to know about the man over the years, he knew the very last thing he had wanted was to be a parent. And second to last was to ever be pregnant again, he wondered what sort of guy he’d suffer through all that for a second time. Not that he should concern himself with it. Brûlée had started behaving strangely after Crocodile offered for them to meet the kid and he also thought it was pretty odd for him to trust them with such a personal thing, but he supposed Croc still had a small amount of trust in him even after all this time.

The atmosphere between the three of them had become decidedly even less comfortable than before. The total silence as they made their way back to Crocodile’s office followed by him opening a secret door in the wall also did not bode well. They descended down through a winding secret passageway with the entrance closing behind them, so it wasn’t like they could reconsider. Crocodile stopped in front of a massive door covered in far more locks than strictly necessary and Foxy felt depressed that a child would be cooped up in such a place. If he had a kid he’d want them to be able to run around and play, maybe not unsupervised; they did have doors on the Sexy Foxy that lead directly into spike pits. If Brûlée ever wanted children they’d have to have a long conversation about child proofing the ship.

“Now, before you meet the boy; I need to set some ground rules.” Crocodile started, “You will not refer to me as his ‘mother’ in any way, shape, or form. You will not take him out of the room, and you will not mention his existence to anyone else. If they mention it to you, you will deny it. Understood?”

“Yeah, fine. But I have a question, what sort of kid is he?” Foxy asked.

“What?”

“Is he energetic? Does he like to be picked up and held? Is he scared by loud noises? Are there any specific behaviors or things we should avoid for his comfort and not yours ?” Foxy asked and Brûlée covered her mouth with her hand. She was trying not to laugh since Crocodile was embarrassed and it certainly showed on his face.

“Right, yes. I was getting to that.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Anyway, he’s very friendly and doesn't understand personal space. If you want him to stop touching you, please just ask him nicely.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” Foxy said and Crocodile finally finished unlocking the massive heavy door. He opened it and they were greeted by a colorfully painted room. The paintings of cute little animals frolicking in a sunny field seemed bleak in this spacious but windowless bunker. Although it was very immediately apparent that the child who was supposed to be the only occupant, was not here. Not in his bed, playing with his toys or even hiding in the bathroom. Foxy then noticed a fairly large ventilation grate that should have been out of the child’s reach was wide open with a toy chest that had its lid forced open used as a ladder of sorts.

“Okay, that’s not good.” Brûlée said as Crocodile began full on panicking, “Hey! Hey, relax. Do you know where that vent goes?”

“It connects to almost the entire building! He could be anywhere right now! I don’t even know when he got out, what if he’s in the fucking jungle? He could be getting eaten by the local wildlife or been kidnapped, or—.” Crocodile said spiraling and Foxy decided to try and get a bit more information out of him.

“Well, what sort of things does he like?”

“What is wrong with you, my son is missing and you want to chit chat?!”

“The vent connects to every room, right? He’s curious and social, so then what room would have the things he’d be most interested in?” Foxy asked, trying to get Crocodile to consider more logical possibilities.

“…The clown’s room is very colorful, and he likes painting. Might see the clown’s makeup as drawing supplies.”

“Okay, that’s a start. What else?” Brûlée asked.

“Mohji trains animals and Cabaji does acrobatics.”

“And he likes animals and a lot of acrobatic props look like or just are toys.” Foxy said and Crocodile seemed surprised he knew that, but of course he did. Porche did all kinds of acrobatics, he’d actually picked up a lot of his knowledge on circus stuff from her.

“Yes, they’re all located closer together on the other side of the building.” Crocodile said, coming down from his panic ever so slightly.

“Buggy has a vanity, right? We can use it as a shortcut.” Brûlée said as she summoned a mirror and transported them through it. They all fell in a less than graceful heap as they appeared in the unoccupied emperor’s bedroom and began frantically searching for the poor kid.

Chapter 8: Running Away to Join The Circus

Wulf felt bad about disobeying Papa, but he just had to see the big top with his own eyes. Papa was always busy during the day, so he had lots of time to figure out how to get the vent off. He was a little scared of getting stuck, but then Papa would come get him eventually. He always did. Wulf crawled along in the vents only bumping his head a few times, and not very hard. He finally came across a huge beautiful room that seemed to be colored every color of the rainbow. He managed to flip himself around so he could kick the grate off, at least he hoped he could. Otherwise he might’ve started to cry. But the grate popped off after a couple good kicks and he fell into a pile of pillows.

“Ow!” He yelled as his knee had been nicked by a sharp edge of some part of the vent. Wulf fumbled out of the pillows and only cried a little bit as jogged into the bathroom. He used the toilet to boost himself up onto the sink, since it was way taller than the one in his bathroom. His knee was bleeding a little and he looked around for a medicine cabinet but wasn’t seeing it. There was a mirror behind his head and he touched it since that’s where his cabinet was. When it rattled it startled him and he then noticed the hinges on the side. He pulled a small smooth piece of metal at the bottom of the mirror and it opened. Wulf pulled out a bottle that said the big long h-word he couldn’t pronounce and took the cap off.

“Woops.” He said as he poured it over his knee and onto the floor too. He’d clean it up in a minute, he needed to find a band-aid. It wasn’t a very big cut, so he rummaged around until he pulled out a box that had a big plus on it. Band-aids were usually in a plus box. He gasped as it had a bunch of really pretty ones covered in cute little characters. He took out a blue one with little red cats all over it and put it over his cut. Wulf kicked his leg up happily and carefully got down from the sink. He looked for a towel to wipe up the mess he’d made and found one with a scary clown face lying in the corner. It worked as he tossed it in a large laundry bin after he deemed the mess cleaned.

Wulf walked back out into the colorful room and made a beeline for the vanity. His eyes sparkled as he looked at all the makeup covering it. It was similar to how his aunties’ vanities looked. They’d rarely let him play with their makeup, as auntie Carol said that he shouldn’t share makeup with them because it could make him sick. Auntie Iva let him wear some of hers sometimes, he missed her. Wulf picked up a lipstick tube before he remembered that auntie Iva said he should never use other people’s lipstick without asking. Only people who were really close liked to share lipstick. He put it back before pulling out some sort of palette. It looked sort of like Iva’s eyeshadow but it was a little sparkly. He grabbed a brush and started applying it to his face. He wanted to make a star since the powder was so sparkly. After a couple small mess-ups he was satisfied with his super light blue star, he even outlined it in magenta with some sort of pencil.

He smiled at his handiwork before he got distracted by his hair. It always stuck up in those two stupid points on the sides, he wondered if there was anything here that could slick them back like how Papa wore his hair. Wulf had begged his Papa to cut them off, but he’d said no because he said it made him look like a little fox. He didn’t want to be a fox, he wanted hair like Papa! He kept looking through the drawers until a hand landed on his shoulder and it wasn’t connected to anything. Wulf was suddenly really scared that it was Papa taking him back already but when he looked up it wasn’t him at all.

“Not bad kid, not bad at all.” Buggy said as his other hand settled on his other shoulder.

Notes:

First time using and oc/writing from their perspective! And yes, Croc's son is named Wulf (if that wasn't spelled out enough).

I have a couple more chapters in my backlog and then I have to actually start writing again. I don't really know how people feel about this, my irl friends were disappointed tho....Eh, they can't judge me in a way that truly matters.

I love the next couple of chapters, they were very fun to write ;P

Chapter 9: The Genius Jester

Notes:

Enjoy Buggy POV, y'all!

This had already been a weird enough day with whoever the hell this Foxy guy was. He was glad Mihawk was just as skeeved out by the whole thing too for once. Apparently the guy had been aping Buggy’s old approach to pirating, lay low and have a good time. So obviously Mihawk thought he was a total loser, but Buggy got it. Not everyone on the seas has to have the ambition to go for Pirate King, and he respected people that didn’t pretend.

After getting nothing out of Crocy and doing a couple miscellaneous errands he decided to take a nap and not think about it too hard. When he opened his door and saw a kid sitting at his vanity digging around in the drawers, he wasn’t even upset, just totally baffled. He saw the ventilation grate in his corner of pillows and was even more confused. Buggy put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and when the kid looked up he saw he’d gotten into his makeup already. He’d drawn a huge 3/4’s of a star over his left eye and it was surprisingly clean for a kid who was maybe 10? Buggy was a little impressed but he had more pressing questions.

“How’d you get in here? And where are your parents?”

“Vent. Also hello Papa’s friend! You’re much less scary in person!” The kid said beaming before giving him a hug. His pride being slightly wounded aside, that didn’t really answer any of his questions. If anything it only raised further questions.

“And your papa is…?” He tried coaxing out of the small boy. His face fell and he got a little sad.

“Papa says I’m not supposed to say.” Great. Wonderful. Just Fan-fucking -tastic.

“Well, can you tell me your name?”

“I’m Wulf!” He said, going right back to being excited again. Buggy eyed the little hair points on either side of his head that looked like little ears. Okay, it was a cute name for a cute kid. He was trying to figure out just what he should do with the kid before an idea struck him.

“It’s nice to meet you Wulf, but next time you should ask before touching my makeup.”

“Oh sorry. I forgot that this isn’t like my auntie’s house.”

“Hey, that’s okay. Just don’t do it again okay?”

“Okay.” He sounded so sad, but uncle Buggy would fix that.

“Say, why don’t I take you to where we have our meetings and we can wait for your Papa to come join us?”

“Really? Is that really okay, Mr. Buggy?” He asked with his eyes sparkling and it was like a dagger being stabbed into his chest. The name ‘Mr.Buggs’ faintly echoed in his mind but he pushed that aside.

“Of course it is, come on.” He said trying not to get upset about how polite and friendly this little gentleman was in his stupid little button up and dress shorts. It made him consider that there was a small chance this was 3’s kid, a very very small chance; but still a chance.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?” He asked and Buggy nodded and sniffed a little bit as he took his hand. Buggy started leading him to the main meeting area and decided he was in fact a genius as usual since, even if nobody fessed up to being the kid’s daddy; he’d now be everyone else’s problem too. He was so smart it scared him sometimes.

Richie was napping in the corner of the main meeting room and the kid immediately ran over to him and started petting him like he was a dog.

“Hey! Don’t you know not to touch strange and dangerous animals?!” Buggy screeched.

“Richie’s not strange, he’s a friend.” He said scratching the lion’s back and having the overfed cat roll over onto his back so he could rub his belly instead.

“Huh.” Buggy said to himself, the kid knew the lion’s name? So, it was 100% a guild member. Cross Shanks off the suspect list, not that he’d bother to call him anyway. His thoughts paused as Alvida and Galette, her new girlfriend or something, entered the room.

“Wow, first time you’ve ever been here early. What the hell is that?” She said pointing at Wulf who was having a great time showering Richie in attention.

“A lion.” Galette said and Alvida just got louder.

“No, not that. The kid, whose fucking baby is that?”

“Hey, I’m not a baby! I’m already 9 years old.” Wulf pouted, “And don’t swear!”

“He crawled out of my vent and said I knew his dad, so I brought him here. By any chance is he…?”

“I don’t have kids, don’t want to. Not my thing.” Alvida said, shutting him down before he could properly ask. Mihawk arrived next since he was always on the pulse of odd happenings around here. Buggy was shocked to see him do a double take as he quickly spotted Wulf.

“Why is there a child in our meeting room?” He asked and Wulf’s eyes lit up at being addressed.

“Found him playing with my makeup, says I know his Dad. You don’t happen to have any illegitimate children floating around out there, do you?”

“Ha! A fantastic jest!” Mihawk said and he clearly meant it as he actually smiled for once. It was a bit creepy in all honesty.

“So, you don’t know him either?”

“If that was my child, why would I dress him like a catholic schoolboy?” Mihawk asked and Buggy didn’t quite understand where the distinction between gothic and catholic aesthetics was but he supposed it was different enough to matter as the girls nodded sagely in agreement.

“Mr.Mihawk?” Wulf asked as he appeared in between their little congregation in the entrance to the room.

“Yes?” Mihawk asked, kneeling to be on the boy's eye level.

“Wow, you’re even cooler in person!” He said, catching Mihawk’s face between his hands, “Are your eyes really yellow or are they contacts?”

“Theyarereal, thankyou. Letgoofmyface,please.” Mihawk said, his words coming out smushed and Buggy was trying very, very hard not to laugh. The swordsman would surely take it out on him later if he did.

“Sorry…” He said and shuffled back over to Richie, giving him sad little scritches.

“Oaw, look at how sad you made him.” Alvida mocked and Mihawk glared at her.

“Why should I care? I’m not the boy’s nanny.” He said striding over the large couch and perched in his usual spot, which just so happened to be close enough for him to talk to Wulf. Buggy decided he’d loiter around the door while the other three could fawn over the boy, since Galette and Alvida approached him under the guise of giving Richie more attention. No subtlety, none at all. Next, Mohji and Cabaji arrived.

“Captain, when did you adopt a kid?” Mohji asked and Cabaji looked utterly dumbfounded.

“Captain, I don’t think now’s a good time to be taking in urchins again.” Cabaji said.

“No, no, I found him in my room and brought him here.” Buggy explained.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of people that ‘find’ kids. You gotta get help man.” Mohji said and Buggy just stared at him blankly.

”Huh? He broke in by crawling through the vents, said I know his ‘Papa’.”

“And did you try asking who his papa was?” Cabaji said, completely unhelpfully.

“Duh, but the kid won’t tell me. So, here we are.” He said gesturing over to Wulf, “Cabaji, you have dark hair. Do you have something to tell us?”

“Buggy, if we ever get somebody pregnant we’ll be sure to let you know.” Cabaji said and looked deeply unimpressed.

“Hm, you know. I didn’t consider, what if he has two papas?” Buggy mused to himself and Mohji looked at him skeptical.  

“If I ever get Mohji pregnant, we’ll let you know! Which would be quite a feat, I assure you!” Cabaji yelled and shook Buggy by the collar.

“Alright, alright. No need to shout.” Buggy grumbled.

“How old is the kid even?” Mohji asked.

“Uh…” He thought before answering, “Oh! 9, he said he’s 9.”

“Okay, so it’s not unreasonable to ask us then, but still I’m offended you’d think we’d keep a kid hidden from you for a decade.” Cabaji said and Buggy nodded, his firstmate was right. So, they were off the hook too, it seemed.

“Aw, Richie’s giving him kisses.” Mohji said and they both turned to see Richie licking the boy’s head. Not an ounce of fear in that child. He was giggling and trying to get the big cat to stop.

“He probably thinks he’s a weird looking lion cub or something.” Buggy said before having a realization, “Don’t lions eat their own cubs sometimes?” After he said that the three of them scrambled to get the boy away from Richie’s mouth. Mohji made sure to feed Richie something that he was actually allowed to eat and Buggy put the boy next to Mihawk on the couch.

“You were just gonna sit there and watch him get eaten?” Buggy asked the swordsman.

“No, I would have assisted if the boy had asked.”

“Fat lot of good that would do if his head’s missing.” Buggy mumbled.

“Come again?” Mihawk asked condescendingly and Buggy rolled his eyes. It was then that almost everyone was accounted for as Mr.3, his weird fiancé, and Daz entered the room.

“Hm, usually only Mihawk arrives on time.” 3 said and then narrowed his eyes at Buggy, “Where did you get that child?”

“Vent, you his dad?” Buggy asked, he was getting really tired of explaining this.

“Buggy, I’m gay.”

“Don’t avoid the question, you could always adopt!”

“No I am not his father, and what do you mean vent? Like the air vents?!” 3 asked and Buggy couldn’t understand what he was hung up on. In the meantime, Perospero approached the child and loomed over him.

“What a darling little thing you are, would you like a lollipop?” He said pulling a lollipop stick out of his coat and simply creating the candy portion himself. The boy made no effort to take the confection but did look at it with awe, “Perhaps you’d like a more complex little treat.” He said and pulled out another stick, and shaped the candy part into a cute little lion’s head. It was a cartoony depiction but it was sort of mesmerizing to watch the man work. He offered it to the boy and Buggy yelled at the candyman.

“Don’t you know it’s creepy for strange men to offer candy to kids?!”

“What? Are you jealous, do you want one?”

“No! I’m a grown man! I don’t want your damn candy.” Buggy pouted because he sort of did want one, but it was probably poisoned or something. He was just trying to protect the kid, that was all. Wulf gasped and pointed at him.

“You swore!”

“I’m a pirate, I’m allowed to fucking swear!”

“You’re grumpy, I thought clowns were supposed to be jolly.” The kid said and Buggy wanted to put him through a wall. It was then that Mihawk extended his hand out to Perospero. Peros wordlessly handed him the first lollipop and everyone watched Mihawk take it and put it directly into his mouth with no hesitation.

“See? It’s safe, Wulf. He’s a new friend of ours.” The swordsman said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth and Wulf grinned so big and wide as he accepted the lion-shaped sucker from Peros.

“Thank you very much, Mister!” He said as he just admired the lollipop for a few moments.

“You’re very welcome, my boy. And please call me Peros?”

“Peros? Is that short for something?” Wulf asked innocently.

“Perospero, I find that it’s often difficult for people to pronounce. Don’t feel bad if you have to shorten it.”

“Per-oh-sparrow? Peros-pero? Perospero! I got it!” The boy said, clearly proud of himself.

“Hmhm, you certainly did.” Peros said, grinning down at the boy, “Is Wulf short for anything? Like Wulfgang perhaps?”

“Nope, just Wulf.” He said. Buggy took his eyes off of the sickeningly adorable conversation happening in front of him to look over at Daz. The man seemed certifiably freaked out, which was the strangest reaction anyone had had to the boy this entire time. Buggy decided to approach him.

“Everything okay?”

“You see it too don’t you?” Daz asked and it was cryptic enough that Buggy had no clue what he was talking about.

“The kid? Yeah, he’s a real boy. Not a ghost or anything.”

“No, the resemblance.” Daz said and Buggy looked at the kid again. He didn’t really resemble anyone he knew. His mind landed on the hair triangles again. Buggy was at a loss on who this kid belonged to. Process of elimination dictated that he was Crocy’s but that..was..imposs-then it hit him. He finally was able to place the hair triangles and why they were bugging him so much. That guy! The ugly motherfucker! Foxy! And what did Crocy say?

“We worked together a few years back?” He heard Croc’s voice echo in his head. A few, like 10 years ago! The kid did have two dads! Buggy was now very much having a shared crisis with Daz in the corner when Crocodile himself finally burst into the room.

Chapter 10: Foxy is Slow in Most Aspects

“Papa!” Wulf yelled and Crocodile felt his shoulders drop, both out of relief but also from shame at his son now being known to the entirety of the Cross Guild. His son ran up and gave him a hug around his legs. He noted the lollipop and the make-up on his face. Crocodile placed his hand on Wulf’s head and was mildly concerned that it was damp and a little slimy. He powered through his revulsion to smile at his son. He watched the boy’s expression fall, “Am I in trouble?”

“You are in so much trouble, young man.” Crocodile said calmly, but knelt down to properly hug his son with his hookless arm, “But for right now, I’m just happy you’re alright.”

“I’m sorry Papa, I just…” The boy was on the verge of tears and Crocodile just lifted him up in his arm and turned his attention to the room. As much as he wanted to be angry at them, they hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact they seemed to have managed to keep Wulf out of too much trouble, surprisingly.

“I’m surprised you weren’t holding him at knife point, clown.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy that would do that to a kid?” Buggy asked.

“Not even as leverage to shave off some of your massive debt?” Crocodile asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it that way. Give the kid here and we can try this again.” The clown had the gall to stick his arms out like he’d really hand Wulf over to him.

“If you so much as trim a single hair on his head, I’ll turn you into my own personal zen garden.” He said, smiling with all the malice in his soul.

“I was just kidding, jeez.” He said lowering his arms. Crocodile braced himself as the two misfits finally stumbled into the room. Brûlée caught sight of Wulf first as she sighed in relief.

“Oh good, you found him.” She said, smiling softly at the boy, “What a handsome little man he is.”

“You have a scar like Papa!” Wulf blurted and Crocodile winced, “That’s so cool! I wish I had a cool scar too!” Crocodile tried his best to look apologetic since he really thought he’d taught him better. He also had no idea how Brûlée had gotten her scar, but he imagined it was not a ‘cool’ or fun story.

“I sure do, but I wouldn’t recommend trying to get one. I was about your age when I acquired this and it hurt pretty bad.” She said, tapping the edge of her scar with her finger.

“What?! That’s badass!” Wulf said.

“Hey! Don’t swear. It’s unbecoming.” Crocodile scolded.

“But-”

“No buts! You’re already in enough trouble as is.”

“It is pretty badass, isn’t it?” Foxy said grinning up at him and Croc was starting to feel exhausted. He almost told him off for trying to parent his son, but that wasn’t a valid argument. It just made Crocodile more tired, “Still, no more swears.”

“Okay…” He said, sounding a little defeated.

“What’s your name?” Foxy asked and Wulf was right back to his energetic self.

“Wulf!”

“Isn’t that funny, my name is Foxy.” He said and Croc watched his son look confused for a moment before turning to him. Please, please, please, not here, not now! He did not want to have this conversation now!

“Papa?”

“Yes, son?”

“How come we’re so similar, Papa?” Okay, Crocodile could work with this.

“Because your Papa and I used to be very close.” Foxy said and Crocodile was fighting the urge to strangle the life out of him.

“Like, friends?” Wulf asked and Croc was making unblinking eye contact with Foxy, which the man was completely ignoring because he kept talking.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So, do you know my other Papa then?” Wulf asked and Crocodile wanted to bury himself in a hole, he wanted to become the dust of the earth. What had he ever done to deserve this? The answer was many things, but hadn’t he suffered enough already? He really just should have lied to Wulf, but that likely would have generated its own problems later. The tension in the room was so thick it threatened to choke the life out of everyone present, except for Richie who was happily sleeping in the corner.

“You know, I wish I did kid. But I haven’t seen your Papa for about 10 years.” Foxy said and Crocodile blinked.

“I turn 10 in January!” Wulf said excitedly.

“Wow, small world. When in January?” Foxy asked, and Crocodile was becoming less mortified and more confused.

“The 1st, Papa said I was supposed to be born around Christmas though.”

“Missed one holiday only to be born on another.” Foxy paused and Crocodile could swear that everyone else leaned towards him slightly. “So around April…” He said to himself and Crocodile was just waiting to see how long it was going to take him. He looked at Brûlée who was also in disbelief. After another couple of minutes Brûlée spoke up.

“This is painful to watch. Sweetheart please, you have to be kidding?” She said.

“What am I kidding about exactly?” Foxy asked and the entire room started yelling all at once.

“No one can be this dumb!”

“I can’t believe Crocy let a guy like that hit it raw.”

“The kid even has his stupid haircut for the love of god!”

“…I’m so disappointed.”

“Why does our family always get caught up in this bullshit?!”

“How? How does that even happen????”

“Enough!” Crocodile yelled and the chattering ceased, “Foxy my son is 9, the last time we saw each other was 10 years ago. Do you need me to draw you a fucking map?!” He said and Foxy just stared at him, “Wulf is our son, your son, you dumb son of bitch!” He had really wanted this conversation to go very differently especially since Wulf would now have this being his first impression of his second parent forever, but he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Really?” Foxy asked, his eyes already filled with tears as he reached up to take Wulf from his arms.

“Really.” He said as he passed a stunned Wulf to his other papa. Foxy started bawling his eyes out as he held the boy to his chest. Wulf wasn’t the smallest kid anymore either, he came up to about Foxy’s waist. Which wasn’t very tall for most people but for Foxy to be swinging around like that was a tad impressive. He saw Wulf’s little arms reciprocate the hug. Crocodile supposed he was finally getting his wish, it was just more of the monkey’s paw variety than it was the fairytale kind.

Notes:

This is the last of my backlog, so no more big updates for a bit.

Are we having a good time everyone?

I am.

Chapter 11: The Fallout

Notes:

Combining 3 chapters into 1 because I don't think enough happened in them individually to warrant splitting them up. Multiple POV's because of this, but enjoy anyway.

It was a lot to process. Foxy was overjoyed, appalled, saddened, and a variety of other emotions all at once. The room of strangers knowing his personal matters didn’t really bother him all that much but as he finally set Wulf on the ground, the gravity of this situation finally hit him. His son was staring at him wide-eyed, trying and failing to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. His lips were a tight line and his fists were now clenched. Foxy looked at Crocodile, who was unable to hide the shame readily apparent on his face. He clutched his cigar like a lifeline and pointedly refused to look at their son.

“Wulf…” Foxy started to say and the boy started bawling. Running away and crawling under the executive’s booth table, his crying slightly muffled. He didn’t blame him.

“Wulf, you come out of there this instant.” Crocodile scolded the boy and Foxy stepped in.

“Leave him.”

“I cannot comfort him like this.”

“Let him be upset.”

“I suppose you know everything about how to parent him, now don’t you?” His tone was sarcastic, but anger was winning in Foxy’s heart.

“How can you say that? I—” He stopped himself, “We aren’t doing this here. Not in front of Wulf. I need a moment.” Foxy said as he walked to the door. Brûlée went to follow behind him and he stopped her, “Alone, Brûlée. I need a moment alone. I am so sorry.” He said as he walked off down the hallway to somewhere else, anywhere else. He didn’t care where, he just kept walking. 10 years. He’d been a father for a decade and Crocodile hadn’t attempted to reach out to tell him even once. Foxy felt his legs stop and he slammed his fist into the wall, not hard enough to bust a hole in it thankfully. He slumped down against it and just took a long breath. He felt both betrayed and somehow not all that surprised. Crocodile was selfish, he always had been. Why would he have swallowed his pride to tell him at all? He was never intending on telling him about Wulf at all. And yet, on some level he understood.

Crocodile tried to tell him, he did a piss poor job of it but he did try. Deep down Foxy knew that even if Crocodile had looked for him, had found him, it probably wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Foxy wouldn’t have come back to him and Croc wouldn’t have given up his ambition in Alabasta. The idea of forcing Crocodile to give up yet another child for the sake of his reputation broke his heart. Ultimately, Crocodile had made the choice to keep their son and it made him feel guilty. But there wasn’t anything he could do to change that. It was the past. Wulf had every reason to be upset, his own father was too stupid to realize he even had a son. Hadn’t come to see him once in ten years, let him be raised in a windowless room. Locked away like some shameful secret. He didn’t know how to make it better. Foxy wanted to, he just didn’t know how.

******

The mood of the room had shifted considerably, no one really knew what to say. Brûlée watched Foxy walk down the hallway until he turned a corner. She stared down the empty space before turning back to the only sound to be heard, Wulf’s hiccuping sobs. She got down on the floor and didn’t bother asking Crocodile’s permission or anything like that. The boy sat curled with his knees to his chest, his sucker sat abandoned on the dirty floor next to him. It absolutely tore her heart to pieces. His crying was slowly turning to sniffles.

“Wulf, do you want to talk about why you’re upset?” She asked.

“No.” He said, his voice choked.

“I know you’re feeling angry and sad right now, it doesn’t feel good to have your dad just show up like that. Much less, not knowing for so long.” She kept her voice steady as she remembered having this exact conversation with far too many of her younger siblings. Brûlée shifted to sitting with her back against the entrance to the booth, only giving glances to where Wulf was. Sure, she could’ve just picked up the table and pulled him out, but she wanted him to feel comfortable enough to come out on his own. He scooted a little closer to her.

“You do?” He asked, surprise in his voice.

“I do. It’s not quite the same for me but, my mother didn’t tell me who my father was until after he passed. I’d met him before but he’d just been another man my mother knew at the time.” She recalled, “He barely acknowledged me and my sister.” Brûlée watched him crawl close to her, she pretended not to notice.

“Were you mad?”

“Of course I was.”

“So what did you do?”

“I hugged my sister and told her how glad I was to have her in my life.” She replied, it was a half truth. Brûlée had to be the one to tell her sister since Mama had only mentioned that he was their father to try and jog her memory about who he was after receiving news of his death. Otherwise she’d had no idea why she should have cared about it at all. But she chose to focus on remembering holding Broyé and comforting her.

“…I’m sorry about your dad.” Wulf said, his voice soft.

“Thank you Wulf.” Brûlée said, “But I’m just sorry that your dad is a little dense, he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I know.” He whispered, “Papa is that way too.” She was caught so off guard that she actually laughed. Wulf giggled and Crocodile finally leaned under the table and attempted to grab him.

“Enough of this.” He said but had to swiftly move out of the way of Wulf tossing his lollipop at him. It shattered on the ground and Crocodile angrily pawed under the table for the boy, “Wulf! Get out here right now!”

“No! You lied to me! I don’t want to talk to you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you didn’t know where my other Papa was!”

“I didn’t, but obviously, I found him. Now, stop this foolishness.”

“But you never told me anything about him! He said you’re friends but you didn’t even tell me his name! Or what he looked like…” Wulf said and Brûlée watched the realization click in Crocodile’s eyes.

“O-oh…”

“He’s…I just didn’t know what to expect. I’ll be okay.” Wulf said, the anger dissipating in his voice. Brûlée could tell the boy had been more privy than most to Crocodile’s vulnerabilities. A child consoling someone who's supposed to protect them. She moved to stand and allow them space, but she was stopped by Crocodile’s hook resting on her thigh. She considered it to be a mistake but stayed put anyway. Crocodile spoke again.

“You always looked so much like him. I could not forget him for even a moment.” His voice was so quiet that Brûlée thought she’d imagined him speaking, “I never imagined that it wasn’t the same for you. I’m sorry, can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Papa.” Wulf said, happily. He paused and let his voice slip back for a moment, “I’m sorry I only have your eyes.” Crocodile was as far as he could get under the table and it probably looked ridiculous to the other occupants of the room.

“Oh, my little kit. You don’t have to apologize, in fact I’m very happy that you inherited his good qualities. And besides, you’re forgetting that you have my nose too.” He said, grabbing the boy’s nose. Wulf giggled before lightly batting his hand away.

“He has those?” Brûlée mumbled and Crocodile turned his head to glare at her.

“Don’t you pretend you’re above it, you married him after all.”

“Yes, but—” She stammered and Wulf popped his head out from under the table.

“Wait, so my other Pa—” he cut himself off, “So, Dad and Papa aren’t going to get back together?” Ah, another conversation she’d had an unpleasant amount of times.

“It’s complicated, but well.” Brûlée said and felt like she probably shouldn’t have started answering him but it was too late now, “Your parents haven’t been together for a long time and your Dad didn’t know about…you. I’m sure he wouldn’t have pursued me if he did.” She stammered. Crocodile made uncomfortable eye contact with Brûlée and she just nervously smiled at him.

“So, if she’s married to Dad, that would make her …my mom?” Wulf asked and both of them were dumbfounded. His attitude had totally shifted and he didn’t seem to be upset at all anymore.

“Yes, a stepmother , but this is only a—” He tried explaining the whole situation to the child as he pulled them both out from under the table, but Wulf was not paying any attention as he threw his arms open and jumped into Brûlée’s lap.

“Wow! I’ve never had a mom before! Are you going to like, bake me cookies or read me bedtime stories and all that stuff?”

“I already read you bedtime stories.” Crocodile said through gritted teeth.

“I know, but like she can probably do the girl voices better than you can.”

“…………You do voices when—-” Buggy finally dared open his mouth and Crocodile shot a spike of sand at his head, which he promptly detached in fear.

“He’s really bad at them.” Wulf whispered in Brûlée’s ear and she nodded. She couldn’t begin to imagine what that sounded like but decided it was best to take his word for it.

“Why the hell are you all still here?!” Crocodile yelled.

“Pfft, like we’d pass up watching a train-wreck like this.” Alvida said casually.

“I always wondered what Iva had on you back in Impel Down.” Buggy said, “I totally get it now. Congrats by the way.” He finished and Brûlée decided to get Wulf away from this part of the conversation.

“I’m gonna go find Foxy. I’m sure you have some things to discuss with your…friends? Come on Wulf.” She said, carrying the boy out of the room.

“Daz, go with them.” Crocodile stated curtly and he simply nodded and walked with them out of the room. Daz’s face was stern as they quickly sped out of the room with yelling erupting from behind them. 

******

This was easily becoming one of the worst days of his life, and Crocodile had experienced quite a few bad days in his lifetime; so that was saying a lot. Everyone had started talking at once the second Brûlée and Daz scurried out of the room. He was surprised to hear the magenta haired woman finally speak up.

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Shut up, shut the hell up! Pause! Rewind! My big sister is married to that…handsome gentleman?” She asked and it was so painfully obvious she had wanted to say ‘thing’ but stopped herself. Crocodile didn’t blame her.

“I don’t think that’s the most pressing concern, Galette.” Perospero said.

“Okay, but when was that information going to be passed on to us? Does Mont-d’Or know? Broyé? Katakuri? Mama?”

“I don’t know who she’s told exactly, it really isn’t as big of a deal as you seem to think it is.” Peros was now trying and failing to placate his sister, Crocodile was actually quite thankful to have a moment to compose his thoughts.

“I just think having a total stranger casually dropping such news is extremely tacky, even for you Peros. And it is a big deal.”

“I thought maybe she’d tell you herself. Besides, she’s trying to keep a lid on it. Since Mama didn’t sign off on it, obviously.”

“Obviously, because she has eyes. He’s…” She trailed off and clasped her hand in front of her face and continued calmly, “As long as she’s happy, it is fine. We shall discuss this later.”

“That’s surprisingly mature for a Charlotte. I don’t think we were properly introduced.” Crocodile said, tapping his cigar and watching the ashes flutter down to the floor.

“Galette, and I assume you’re quite aware of why I was brought along.”

“Ha, to the point aren’t you? Your sister is the same way, so that’s to be expected.” Crocodile said and huffed as he braced himself for the inevitable return to the topic of Wulf.

“…Thank you.” She said and he smirked at that, “Were you talking with her about your son?”

“More or less, I had wanted this matter to remain private but children always have other plans.” He sighed and she smiled in agreement.

“Never took you for someone who could be so careless.” Mr.3 mumbled.

“My son is no longer present, choose your next words carefully.” Crocodile jammed his hook under Mr.3’s chin in warning.

“Oh Crocy, it’s nothing to be ashamed of…I mean the choice of guy may-be—!” The clown started speaking and Crocodile cleaved him down the middle with his hook. The clown had no right to judge him, none of them did!

“Oh, stop throwing a tantrum. The clown is correct, shockingly.” Mihawk said, nudging the bisected clown back together.

“Tsk, how laughable. I’m disappointed in you Hawkeyes.”

“As juicy as tabloids would find it, it has no real bearing on Guild operations. Nothing has truly changed.”

“Spare me your meager attempts at compassion. It doesn’t suit you.” Crocodile spat, “I’ve had to work far harder to earn my status. I couldn’t just wave some big sword around, I had to actually get my hands dirty. You have no idea what I’ve had to live through. Your words are meaningless to me.” Crocodile said, bitterly.

“I beg to differ, but understand your point.” Mihawk said with finality.

The discomforting energy was not dissipating in the slightest. It didn’t help that everyone had gone silent again. Of course that meant the clown would be the one to attempt speaking again.

“…So, now what?” Buggy asked.

“Hm?”

“I mean, don’t you feel like kinda relieved?” Buggy asked, and Crocodile glowered at him. He said nothing as he took a long drag from his cigar. He held it between his fingers as he dissolved the outermost layer into sand with a practiced precision. The granules fell away as he removed it from his lips. He watched the clown swallow heavily and Crocodile simply strode out of the room. This discussion was over as far as he was concerned. There was no relief to be felt, this was just a larger inner circle that now knew his intimate personal life. In his experience, that could only lead to bigger problems.

Chapter 12: Crocodile's Sanity is Disintegrating

Brûlée, Daz, and Wulf were wandering the halls in a weird but not unwelcome silence. As they turned another corner Brûlée felt a certain irritation creeping across her face. Mont-d’Or was lecturing her husband, who was sulking on the floor, clearly just as annoyed as she was by his presence.

“Don’t you have anything to say? You just go around punching walls, like some kind of maniac?” He asked as rhetorically and high strung as ever.

“Hello, Monty.” She said, unable to muster any enthusiasm in her voice. He jumped a foot in the air at being addressed, which was amusing.

“I’ve told you a hundred million times, don’t do that!” He screeched. Brûlée just rolled her eyes before Mont-d’Or pulled her into an impromptu hug, “It’s good to see you, sis. I’m glad you’re okay.” She smiled and gently patted his back as she returned the hug. The last time they’d seen each other was not long after the Strawhats escape. She’d known her family was fine and had even spoken to Mont-d’Or over the den den, but it wasn’t quite the same as physically seeing him. It was a sort of relief that washed over her that she wasn’t aware she’d needed.

“Me too, Monty.” She said as they broke apart. Wulf was watching the two of them from off to the side. She could see he had questions but she tilted her head over in Foxy’s direction and the boy seemed to understand. Mont-d’Or did not, however.

“Oh, yeah. I have no idea what his problem is. Probably just some circus weirdo.” He said. Brûlée’s lips pursed together into a line as she tried to figure out how to explain this to him gently.

“Dad?” Wulf said, hesitantly approaching Foxy. He didn’t verbally reply but smiled and touched the boy’s chin, tilting his head up slightly. Brûlée could see the discomfort on Mont-d’Or’s face but there wasn’t much she could do.

“Hi, son.” Foxy said, pulling himself to his feet, “Your Papa doin’ okay?” Wulf frowned and replied sharply.

“Is he ever?” He saw the startled response on Foxy’s face and tried to soften his answer, “I mean, yeah. Of course, why wouldn’t he be?”

“It’s alright, Wulf. He’s always been kinda stressed out. I’ve only ever seen him truly relaxed a few times.” Foxy offered.

“Why?”

“I don’t really know, I could make a couple guesses. But I think he’s just had a lot of bad experiences.” He said. Brûlée was finding herself sort of enthralled with watching him talk with Wulf. Like sure, it was his own son but he still was trying to be gentle with the boy. Even though she knew he definitely had a lot on his mind right now. She was even starting to remember his brief interactions with Anana with more interest. Mont-d’Or was understandably far less interested.

“Uh, we should probably leave them be. I know you’re sort of nosy sis, but I—”

“Nonsense, he’s my husband.” The words fell from her mouth before she could think better of it.

“WHAT?!” He screamed and she cursed herself internally as Mont-d’Or started babbling words rapid fire. Foxy shockingly didn’t take any offense, if anything he seemed more amused by it than anything. Wulf was just taking in the moment as a whole, he probably didn’t get to observe people that weren’t Crocodile very often. Probably very entertaining to him. After a couple more minutes of this, Daz was the one to speak up.

“Shut up.” His deadpan cut through Mont-d’Or’s prattling like a knife.

“Don’t you tell me to shut up, I don’t even know who—” Mont-d’Or was immediately in Daz’s personal space and he was not appreciating it one bit. 

“I don’t think you heard me, shut up.” Daz said holding a single sharp finger to Mont-d’Or’s neck.

“What’s that supposed to do, give me a paper cut?” Mont-d’Or snapped as he shoved Daz’s hand away with more force than the bodyguard had expected.

“Fight, fight, fight, fig—-!” Wulf excitedly started chanting and Brûlée put her hands on his shoulders so he’d stop jumping up and down.

“No, they’re not fighting. Are you boys?” She asked them very sternly, making it clear there was only one acceptable answer.

“Awwwww, but Mom…”

“No buts. You shouldn’t encourage people to fight like that. They could really hurt each other.”

“Mom?” Mont-d’Or said slack-jawed.

“Yeah, she’s married to my Dad. So, she’s my Mom now.” Wulf answered happily.

“…Brûlée, what the hell is going on?” Mont-d’Or asked, his face twitching with poorly concealed anger. Brûlée gave him the family friendly bullet points of the past couple of weeks. She watched his face shift from angry to confused and finally to perturbed, “So, you just want the entire crew to go along with this? Was there not someone better looking available to you?” He asked and she watched Foxy fall to his knees with that depressive energy around him.

“Monty, don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

“And just what do you mean by that?” He said indignantly. She caught a slight smirk form on Daz’s lips before it disappeared.

“Oh, nevermind.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“How come you let Dad and your brother fight? How many brothers do you have anyway?” Wulf asked.

“Huh? Oh, well that was different. And I have 46 brothers. There’s 85 children in my family, including myself.”

“85! That’s a lot of babies!”

“Yes, well, it’s not like she had us all at once, you silly boy.”

“I didn’t think she did.” He pouted, “It’s still a lot of kids…”

“Wiwiwi, true, very true.” She said straightening his hair points.

“Whatever, you haven’t even been here a day and you’re already in everyone else’s business like usual. If you need me I’ll be in the library.” Mont-d’Or said, pointedly ignoring Foxy and Wulf as he entered a door not even a foot away. Slamming it hard enough that she could hear him cursing about knocking a picture off the wall.

“Is he a brother you like?” Wulf asked.

“I like all my siblings, but Mont-d’Or can be rather prickly. He’s actually quite nice, if you’re willing to spend enough time with him. Especially if you like books.” Brûlée sighed.

“Hmph, that’s much nicer than what I’d call him.” Foxy said getting up off the ground again, “Why are they all so disrespectful?”

“They do that to everyone, it’s just unusual for them to be so direct about it.” Brûlée said and she watched Wulf throw his head back as he let out a strange stilted laugh.

“Fahaha, Papa does that too. He bad-mouths people to Daz all the time.” Brûlée took note of him not addressing Daz as formally as other people. Daz must have noticed too as he spoke again.

“I don’t think your father would want you hearing him talk like that.”

“Yeah duh, that’s why I watch you guys work in secret. But um, please don’t tell him I told you. He’ll just buy more locks for the door and then I’ll have to figure out how to pick those ones too.” Wulf said, sort of looking panicked. Daz looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. He wasn’t the most expressive person but Brûlée found herself being able to read his few mannerisms quite well.

“How often do you watch them?” Brûlée asked, attempting to help Daz a little.

“Huh? Um, whenever I’m bored.” Wulf said and Daz sharply exhaled through his nose.

“Which is how often exactly?” Foxy asked, concern evident on his face. Wulf furrowed his brows and looked a little confused.

“Uh, you know, a normal amount.” He explained.

“Ah, of course.” Foxy said and shot a look at the other two adults,“Well, it’s very rude of you to spy on them like that.” Foxy scolded. Brûlée didn’t find it to be such a rude thing to do, especially if you don’t get caught.

“I know, but I just wanted to see Papa work and I’m glad he has friends like Daz, Mr.Buggy and Mr.Mihawk.”

“Hmm, yeah. Friends.” Foxy said looking at Daz with a hint of pity.

“The Boss doesn’t have friends, I simply work for him.” Daz attempted to correct.

“Yeah, I used to work for him too. But everyone has friends, Crocodile just isn’t the type of guy to think so.” 

“So, I’ve heard. Seems you were a little closer than that though.”

“Feh! Then you know him even less than you think.”

“Ooookay. It’s nice to be properly introduced, Daz. But we should probably—-” Brûlée attempted to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable shift it had taken, but a plume of sand approached them. Crocodile formed from the loose particles.

“There you are, I’ve had quite enough of all this. Unfortunately, I feel we are in need of a proper discussion about Wulf.”

“Is Daz going to be involved in this discussion, or are you going to make him wait outside like a good boy?” Foxy asked and Crocodile’s cigar fell out of his mouth. He quickly caught it and almost put the lit end back in his mouth.

“Where did—? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, looking very taken aback.

“So I have 4 parents now?” Wulf asked and Brûlée could feel the stress radiating out of Crocodile.

“That tears it! I am delegating!” He picked up Wulf by his clothes and carried him back down the hall. The other 3 followed, completely dumbfounded. When they returned to the meeting room, Crocodile set Wulf down and gave the room an order, “I am officially putting you idiots in charge of watching my son. He is not to be harmed in any way, and if you lose track of him there will be consequences.”

“What if we don’t want to watch him?” Mr.3 meekly asked.

“You will watch him, or else.”

“Papa, you shouldn’t threaten them. They’re nice.” Wulf said, grin wide as ever. Crocodile smiled in a way that made it clear he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“You be good for Papa’s…..” The pause was uncomfortably long, “friends.” The word hissed out of his teeth. Brûlée looked to Foxy, who was just shaking his head like he’d seen this a billion times before. Crocodile sharply turned on his heels and addressed them in a quieter manner, “You two. Mirror. Now.” He then placed his hand on Daz’s shoulder, “Please keep him safe, Daz.” Crocodile’s voice was softer but stern, she watched Daz nod as he left to watch over Wulf with the others.

Brûlée just summoned a mirror that hopefully just directly connected to her house and they clambered through it. She caught Wulf’s amazement at her powers as he tried to follow after them. Daz swiftly scooped the boy up who was even more thrilled about being swung around. Brûlée dispelled the mirror, she couldn’t help but think about how Foxy had that similar look of admiration about her powers when they first met. It tugged at her heart as she was brought back to staring down a very agitated Crocodile.

Chapter 13: Reignited

Crocodile was beyond stressed and exhausted. Personally, he didn’t even want to have this discussion at all but he would; if for nothing else than for Wulf. He was pacing around Brûlée’s living room with the other two just watching him. Crocodile glanced at the couple on occasion, they were whispering to each other about something. It only irritated him further as he was trying his hardest to organize his thoughts.

Brûlée quietly got up and grabbed the tea container off of the table. She gave them one last glance as she disappeared into the kitchen. Crocodile stopped pacing and stared down at Foxy, who was nervously drumming his fingers on the arm of the armchair that was much too large for him. He eventually stopped and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Foxy sighed and opted to keep his mouth shut for once. Crocodile exhaled through his nose as he decided he had to start somewhere.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He stared and Foxy didn’t hesitate to start asking them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Crocodile could see him holding back the flurry of follow up questions and sighed. He didn’t know, he didn’t have an excuse to feed him. Crocodile didn’t have a good answer.

“I-I don’t know.” He admitted.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Croc, I told you where I was headed. Are you really just that petty?”

“What was I supposed to do?! Hand Wulf over to you and never see him again?! That didn’t turn out so well with—” He cut himself off and grabbed his cigar, focusing on it. Crocodile didn’t want to think about how much it had hurt, what he’d almost done. All because he’d trusted Dragon to keep their son safe. He should have known better, he did know better; he just didn’t have a lot of options. Foxy was quiet for a moment, he was choosing his words carefully.

“I would have never asked you to do that. I don’t know what we could have decided, but I’d never ask you to part with another kid.” Foxy said. Crocodile didn’t know what to say. It ate at him that Foxy still cared even a modicum about his feelings, after all this time. After keeping something like this from him for so long. It made him feel bitter, “Why did you keep him?” Crocodile felt his whole stomach churn, he didn’t want to think about it.

It was never a question to him, never a thought that crossed his mind. It reminded him of how weak he was, any pirate worth his salt would have just erased the problem. But Crocodile couldn’t do it, he couldn’t do it for Luffy and certainly not for Wulf. He heard Foxy’s nervous laugh in his ears and he felt the urge to tear his vocal cords out, “Sorry, that’s not a simple question to answer. I didn’t ask that about kid 1, so I shouldn’t ask that about Wulf either. Were you the one that named him?” Foxy asked, Crocodile felt like his body was made of lead. It took a terrible amount of effort to answer him.

“Yes.”

“I like it. I wish I’d gotten to tell you that a long time ago.” He said sadly, Crocodile felt like he was going to throw up.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Crocodile sucked in the smoke from his cigar and practically spit it into Foxy’s face, “You made your choice. Don’t go regretting it now.”

“I left because you treated me like dirt! And if I remember correctly you were the one always begging for sex! All I wanted was a little companionship!” Foxy yelled.

“I don’t have companions, you absolute ass!” Crocodile seethed. It was childish and that’s an aspect Foxy was rather good at bringing out of him.

“What’s Daz then? What’s the Guild to you? How many other people have you done this to?!”

“I don’t do anything to anyone! They understand that I have boundaries! They understand that I don’t want that kind of relationship!”

“Why couldn’t you just say that to me?!

“Because then you’d have left me!” Crocodile felt his mouth go dry. He swallowed heavily, “We weren’t a good fit, but I just kept hoping one day it would be different. You’d be content with how things were.” He looked away from the shorter man shamefully. Crocodile dared to look back over at that idiot’s face, the absolute shock on it almost made him laugh. He watched him stumble over his words.

“So, you did care?! But you wanted me to not care? Or did you not want to care? Croc, I’m getting a little lost here.” Crocodile loomed over Foxy, watching him fidget in under his shadow. He blew out another plume of smoke as he pulled his cigar from his mouth, resting his hand on the back of the chair, “Crocodile, Sir?” He said, his eyes searching for answers. Crocodile wasn’t thinking anymore as he leaned down and kissed him. He pressed Foxy against the back of the chair as he groaned into his mouth. Foxy sat rigid against the chair as Croc bit his bottom lip, running his tongue along Foxy’s teeth. He was desperate to get the man to open his mouth and return the kiss.

He knew Brûlée would be angry, perhaps jealous, and it made Crocodile’s brain buzz. He wanted her to be mad, Foxy to be mad. He wanted them to be just as irritated and upset as he was. Crocodile pulled away, smirking down at him. He leaned back in to kiss Foxy again, only for two fingers to gently stop his lips, “Croc, I’m married.” He said his fingers tracing along his scar. Crocodile felt a pit form in his gut, his face felt hot. He couldn’t do this anymore. They both turned as they heard a massive clatter. Brûlée was standing in the doorway of the living room, her hands holding empty air and at her feet was a completely shattered tea set.

Chapter 14: The Sunshine

Notes:

Very nervous about these next few chapters, but here we go anyway.

What was wrong with him?! Brûlée just stared at her husband and Crocodile, mere inches apart with her husband caressing the other man’s face. She didn’t really know how to feel about it, but she supposed she knew deep down that Foxy being so affectionate to her was too good to be true. After all, she couldn’t compete with the right hand of an emperor. Not to mention Wulf. It wasn’t like their marriage was official yet anyway. Brûlée brought a hand to her chest. Still it stung to find out this way. Foxy really was no different from other men, other pirates.

“Honey, Brûlée, sweetheart. So nice of you to come back at the worst possible second.” Foxy said, sweating profusely.

“No, I understand. But couldn’t you have had the decency to do that somewhere else besides my house?” Brûlée said, already moping a little.

“Our house, Brûlée. Our house.”

“What?”

“Uh, that’s what I was trying to say before you came back. While I’m very flattered that you still have a fondness for me, Sir. I am a taken man, and very happy with that fact.” Foxy said, and both Brûlée and Crocodile looked at each other in disbelief. She knew that while Foxy was stupid, he was not nearly dumb enough to try and use that ‘it’s not what it looks like’ excuse on her. So, no matter how unbelievable it seemed, he must be telling the truth. Brûlée felt a twinge of pride at being chosen over someone like Sir Crocodile, but now it was just even more horribly awkward then it had been. Especially since she knew even Foxy couldn’t make up something as ridiculous as Crocodile throwing himself at him if used every brain cell in his head.

“Of course, of course, wiwiwi. I should be aware of my husband’s irresistible charms. How-how silly of me to forget.” Brûlée said, internally panicking about Crocodile getting more and more obviously flustered. Foxy just piled on, completely oblivious as ever.

“It’s alright, my love. While what you say is true, I think Croc should make it up to you. After all, he is a guest in our house. To think he’d be so disrespectful.” He practically purred as he pulled down Crocodile’s bottom lip with his thumb. Welp, she’d enjoyed having a husband while it lasted. She’d be sure to keep the sand he was about to turned into in a nice decorative urn on her mantle.

Much to her shock, she watched Crocodile wordlessly march over to her, throw his hook around her neck and yank her roughly down into a kiss. Her eyes were blown wide as she watched Foxy lean over the arm of the chair and watch the two of them with his typical nasty grin. He nodded as if to encourage her, and she shrugged internally as she hesitantly returned the kiss. Crocodile shivered as she brought her hands to his face. Brûlée watched his eyes flutter open as she pulled away, his hook falling gingerly away from her neck, “There, now it’s even.”

“Hm, are you sure your count is right, dear?” Brûlée asked and before Foxy could answer she kissed Crocodile again. She felt his breath catch in his throat as she bit his lip. They parted for her and she simply pulled back, “Now, we can do this little tit for tat back and forth or, we could all be adults about this.” Croc leaned forward to continue and she tsked.

“You always did like to blow off a little steam after a stressful day. We’re not opposed to assisting you, are we Brûlée.” Foxy taunted as he approached Crocodile from behind.

“I, I can’t think. I just…” Crocodile fumbled over his words and Brûlée took the opportunity to lift him up over the smashed tea set on the floor.

“Why don’t we discuss this in the bedroom?” She said, carrying him through her house before finally placing him on the foot of her bed. He was certainly surprised but he was not complaining and Brûlée figured she’d go sweep up the broken porcelain on her floor to give him a minute. After dealing with that mess, she returned to Crocodile who was now joined by Foxy. Her husband was simply hanging around the edge of the bed instead of sitting on it with the other man.

“Well, think it over a bit more?” Foxy said, he seemed to be his old annoying self again. She properly entered the room but did not join in their conversation just yet.

“It’s shameful, isn’t it?” Crocodile asked, not making eye contact with either one of them.

“Are you asking me or are you asking yourself?” He replied, his voice level as though this conversation had happened a thousand times before.

“When did I become so pathetic, so weak?” Crocodile asked, his cigar burning away long forgotten between his fingers.

“There’s nothing pathetic about having feelings, I’d love to pound whoever put that silly idea in your head. I’ll never know why you took it to heart like you did.” Foxy stated, Brûlée agreed with the sentiment but in practice having your feelings open to the world generally did tend to get you hurt.

“Is my presence here not proof enough that I’m weak?” Crocodile asked. 

“You’re one hell of a performer then. There’s not much higher you can go.” Foxy said, there was a finality to his words. Crocodile looked at him again and finally placed his cigar back between his lips. He inhaled and exhaled, shoulders relaxing as he seemed to return to the rational man the world knew him as.

“I suppose. I have a couple of propositions for the both of you. One business, the other pleasure.” He paused and scrunched his face as he spoke again, “Business is not quite the right term either, as I don’t consider Wulf part of my dealings.”

“If it’s about our son I’d prefer to discuss that first.” Foxy said, curtly.

“I thought as much, might as well rip the bandage off.” He sighed, placing his hand to his temple, “…I think that, perhaps, I am ill equipped to continue raising Wulf as I have been. Especially after he’s now shown an aptitude for being a bit of an escape artist.”

“Yeah, ya think?” Brûlée said quietly, but not quiet enough as both men’s eyes immediately darted to her. She smiled nervously and continued, “I mean what, were you really planning on keeping him in a bunker forever?”

“No! I didn’t—Meeting with the clown was not supposed to go this way. After the war, I accompanied Ivankov back to Kammabaka. When I was arrested, I made peace with Wulf being better off in the same trusted hands as my first son. However, after learning what the father of my first son thought the acceptable course of action was; I decided that I could no longer trust that Wulf was in good hands.” Crocodile recounted. It almost made Brûlée regret her words.

“But is kid 1 alright? Like alive?” Foxy asked, Brûlée thought it sweet that he was still concerned about the other boy.

“Yes, yes, he’s had some close calls. But yes, he is.” Crocodile smirked and shook his head.

“Well, that’s good at least! But what was so bad exactly that you felt compelled to uproot Wulf from where he was?” Foxy asked.

“I’ll put it this way, would you want to meet your long estranged son in prison?”

“Ah, okay. That’s fair. I don’t think I’d trust their judgement either after that.” Brûlée said, not wanting to belabor the point any further.

“So, I retrieved my son from Kammabaka. It was difficult to keep him from attempting to run around the ships I traveled on over these past two years, especially since I couldn’t bring myself to confide in Daz.”

“You don’t confide in a lot of people.” Foxy grumbled.

“I was intending on finding a more permanent base of operations, one where Wulf would have a little more space to roam. But when I came to collect on my loan to the clown and he didn’t have my funds, I had to improvise.”

“And revealing Wulf to Buggy right away would just be handing him a bargaining chip.” Foxy stated.

“Exactly.” Crocodile sighed, “I thought a lull would come in our operations and I could quietly introduce Wulf to Daz or Mihawk. But after the clown announced his intention for us to claim the One Piece, that meant a lot more eyes on us. I couldn’t justify taking such a large risk of letting Wulf roam around, supervised or not.”

“Jeez, a dopey guy like him really has such a big dream?” Foxy mused. Brûlée and Crocodile exchanged a look that communicated that they were both aware that Foxy was really one to talk, but they said nothing, “I can’t fault his ambition, fehfehfeh. He couldn’t have a more driven person than you at his side, so I get his confidence.” Foxy finished thinking aloud and Crocodile fell silent. Brûlée watched him locate the ashtray by her bedside, he leaned over to put his cigar out in it.

Brûlée didn’t smoke but she kept a few ashtrays scattered around her house, on the off chance some of her siblings who were fond of the habit were visiting. Foxy was still in his thoughts as Brûlée watched Crocodile’s features shift. It was like years of age peeled away from his face as he smiled. There wasn’t an ounce of his usual malicious vitriol in it. It was nearly as blinding as the desert sun.

“Shi, you’ve always had a knack for saying crap like that.” Crocodile said and Brûlée felt a twinge of…something. Deja vu? She wasn’t sure how she could, “I feel certain you will understand what I’m about to ask. Will you…” His smile faltered, “Would you two be willing to assist me with Wulf?”

“You-you want us to be involved with like parenting him?” Foxy stammered.

“Ugh, I knew I should have saved this conversation for another time. It’s too much, too soon—”

“You’re including me in this?” Brûlée asked, a little frazzled.

“Well, you are married to Foxy. Besides, it’s clear Wulf has already decided that he likes you a great deal.” Crocodile answered, embarrassment clear in his voice.

“Of course!” The couple replied in unison. They stared at each other for a moment before Foxy coughed into his hand and tried again.

“We would love to help in any way we can, after all he is my son too.”

“Are you sure you trust your son with someone like me?” Brûlée asked and Crocodile broke out into the bright beaming smile from before.

“Shishishi, of course! There aren’t 85 Charlotte siblings still living because of Linlin’s parenting skills after all…” Crocodile said, his lips were still moving but Brûlée wasn’t processing any more of the words coming from his mouth. That laugh.

It was haunting. The horror on her face must have clued Crocodile in on her thoughts as she watched the smile drop and the color drain from his face. She cast a glance over at Foxy. He stood frozen in place, eyes the size of saucers.

That smile.

Brûlée felt like she was going to be sick. She almost wanted the laugh but the nausea that swept over her prevailed as she sprinted out of the bedroom and unceremoniously threw up in her toilet.

Notes:

:)

Chapter 15: The Rain

Notes:

Vague discussion of unplanned pregnancy. Please don't get triggered by my silly little fic, that would break my heart.

The two men stood in the most putrid silence of their lives, as they tried to get their thoughts together as Brûlée continued to be violently ill in the background. Foxy knew that if he didn’t address Crocodile immediately, he would run and this conversation would never be revisited ever again. Which, there was no way in hell he could let that happen, not now! But he didn’t want to ignore his wife who was obviously in distress. His genius compromise was to drag Crocodile into the bathroom with him, which why the sand logia allowed himself to be dragged around in the first place he’ll never know. After tossing Crocodile into the relatively large bathroom, Foxy knelt down beside his wife.

“Brûlée? Honey? Are you okay?” He asked, his voice shaky and unsure if he should attempt to touch her or not. She coughed and he decided he should try gently rubbing her back. He locked eyes with Crocodile who had slumped down onto the floor against the bathtub. They just stared at each other until Brûlée’s voice croaked back out of her abused throat.

“Yeah.” She said, and they both cringed at the spitting that accompanied it, “Just, just.”

“Shush, shush, shush. It’s okay.” Foxy said, shrugging at Crocodile who just kept staring at Brûlée. After lifting her head up she flushed the toilet and sprawled out on the cool tile floor, “I’m going to go get you a glass of water, or maybe ice? I can make tea too if you want.”

“Water.” She mumbled.

“Okay, don’t move. I’ll be right back” He said and ran out of the room. He rummaged around in her cupboards for any kind of glass, filled the first one he found with tap water and briskly walked back. Neither occupant had moved an inch. Brûlée weakly sat up as she accepted the glass he held out to her, slowly taking a small sip. After a long pause, there was a collective breath taken. But they just returned to the same impasse from before.

“Your other kid is Strawhat?!” Brûlée yelled, her voice still hoarse as she continued to sip from the glass. Crocodile was in the process of curling into a ball and Foxy still didn’t know which concern to prioritize here.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Don’t, don’t worry about it.” Brûlée stammered.

“You just puked your guts out, of course I’m gonna worry about it.” Foxy said, anger raising in his voice.

“Oh my god, you held him! Oh no.” She turned sharply and spit into the toilet again.

“Have you been throwing up often?” Crocodile spoke hesitantly.

“No, not really. Why?” She asked, exhaling to steady herself. Ah. Foxy understood the unspoken implication, it certainly could be that. Although, Brûlée didn’t really exhibit any other signs. Plus, that would mean she’d been seeing someone else recently. Kind of a blow to a guy’s ego to be a rebound husband. Still, he should ask just to cover all their bases.

“Are you 100% sure, like there’s not…” Foxy said trailing off. Brûlée looked at him like he was crazy before she threw back her head and cackled.

“Wiwiwiwi! You’re joking! We’ve been talking about this crap too much, you think I wouldn’t notice something like that? Come on.” She wiped a tear out of her eye, “Who could ever be that irresponsible?” Crocodile was silent again. Foxy really thought about the two of them, Luffy and Crocodile. Never in a million years would he have put together that they were related. How could he have? Luffy hadn’t even been named when he first saw him, he’d been so small. God, now he felt ill. His mouth felt dry as he looked at Crocodile. He remembered seeing the expression that was painted across his face only three times before: in the locker room when he opened Crocodile’s coat, in the hotel room after Luffy was born, and finally; the day he left Crocodile behind for what he had hoped at the time was forever.

“You didn’t know, did you?” Foxy asked, the vague question just festered in the stagnant air.

“…Not until he told Iva his father’s name was Dragon. How could I have been so trusting?” He spat.

“That’s-”

“I could have killed him! I would have killed him! He would have let me!” Crocodile yelled. He was shaking. His hand covered his face as he tried to steady his breathing. Foxy hadn’t even considered that. When he’d met Luffy, his goal had been taking as many of them alive as possible for his crew. Had it come down to it, he doesn’t know if he would have had the heart to actually seriously hurt him or worse.

“…Even if it kills me.”

The words echoed in his mind. They suddenly stung, even more than they had previously. He could not imagine how much pain Crocodile had been holding in. Distantly he heard the dripping sound of water. He looked at the faucets in the room blankly before he realized the sound was coming from Crocodile. His tears were dripping down onto the tile floor. He was crying.

Chapter 16: Cross Guild: Temporary Babysitters

Today had been far more eventful than he had been used to certainly. Mihawk watched as Wulf clambered around the various couches and other furniture as some of the lower ranking officers chased him. The boy clearly thought it was a nice little game they were playing while the adults were just trying to keep him from breaking his neck. He watched the boy attempt a jump from the officer’s booth to the couch Buggy and himself were seated on, nearly belly flopping onto the floor only to be caught by Buggy’s disembodied hand.

“Fahaha! Again, again!” He said, hopping out of Buggy’s hand and repeating the entire process. Eventually Daz came over and grabbed Wulf, who looked dejected. They’d already given the boy a bunch of sugar thanks to Perospero spoiling him with candy, what had they honestly expected to happen? He turned his attention toward Buggy, who seemed lost in thought. He barely looked up to catch Wulf when he fell while climbing a tapestry hanging on one of the far walls of the room. Mihawk would rather die than admit it was just a little bit impressive.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Buggy asked, more to himself than anything.

“I’d rather not speculate, but I’m sure it will all work itself out.” He answered.

“Should we like...hang up a couple of trans flags in the meeting room or something?” Buggy asked and Mihawk’s astonishment must have been clear enough that the clown elaborated, “You know, to be supportive.”

“He would hate that.”

“Ugh, so what do we do? Are we just gonna pretend everything is back to normal? Wulf! Don’t touch that!” His disembodied hands picked up the boy and placed him down in his lap. Wulf sat with his arms crossed in front of himself, pouting. Mihawk wasn’t really sure how to respond. If Wulf wasn’t part of the equation, he’d say yes without a moment’s hesitation. Crocodile was never ‘out and proud’ about anything, he just wasn’t that type of person. But he almost felt he needed to help reassure their business partner that learning such a personal thing about him didn’t negatively impact their relationship at all. If anything, it made him feel like he had a better understanding of him.

“I think he just needs time.” Mihawk settled on saying. He thought it was a little strange that Buggy seemed to care at all. Crocodile wasn’t exactly kind to him in any sense, it would have been understandable that he’d use this information to gain some kind of control over the sand logia.

“Are you talking about Papa?” Wulf asked quietly. He seemed to have settled down comfortably in Buggy’s lap.

“Y-yeah, we just want to let him know that everything is good now. Since, well…” Buggy said, nervously.

“I stress him out, I know.” Wulf said.

“Oh, Wulf. He just has some…other things on his mind right now. Though, I suppose I’d be lying to say you didn’t give him a scare today.” Mihawk attempted to comfort the boy.

“Yeah, but I meant like all the time. That’s why he didn’t come visit me a lot.” Wulf said, pausing for a moment, “When he said we’d live together from now on I was really excited, I’d always wished we could do more stuff together. Like walk around a park and get ice cream, or go ice skating, or fishing, or-or something! I just wanted to be able to see him all the time, but…” He trailed off his joyful smile fading as he looked down at his feet. He picked at the upholstery on the couch as he mumbled the last of his thoughts, “I understand now, he just can’t really do that kind of stuff. Because I make him sad…” He sniffed as he sat limply in Buggy’s arms. Neither one of them really knew what to say. It both was and wasn’t true, but they also didn’t quite understand Crocodile's exact reasoning or the extent of his history with Foxy of all people.

“I’m sure that’s not true, your Papa loves you. It’s really dangerous being a pirate, and he just doesn’t want you getting hurt.” Buggy said, trying to comfort the child.

“I don’t care if I get hurt, I just want to walk outside in the sun with Papa!” Wulf yelled as tears formed in his eyes. It was such a small request, a simple dream; but Mihawk knew that for Crocodile it would have been like asking him to hold the world on his shoulders.

“Then you will. As long as Buggy the Genius Jester is in charge, you’ll be allowed to go anywhere you want with your Papa. I swear it!” Buggy proclaimed and Mihawk felt his heart stop. He couldn’t promise such a thing! Crocodile would almost certainly flay him alive for getting Wulf’s hopes up and making him look even worse in his son’s eyes for having to backpedal from this. But alas, Mihawk was not made of stone. Seeing Wulf’s eyes shine like Buggy had just plucked a shooting star out of the sky just for him, he couldn’t be happier that Buggy had said something so stupid.

“R-really?” Wulf stammered, his smile returning and shining with an almost blinding joy.

“Of course! You’ve got me and Mihawk in your corner, if we can’t convince Crocy; then I don’t know who else could!” Buggy said, full bravado on display. Ah, there was the anger. Because now Buggy was making promises for him to fulfill as well, this was a less than pleasing development. Before he could say anything, one of the den den’s on the table rang. Everyone in the room startled at the noise and upon further investigation Mihawk realized it was his personal line. That was odd, very few people had his personal line’s number. After a moment he decided it was very likely to be Crocodile wanting to check in on Wulf, so he answered.

“Yes?”

“That’s how you answer the phone? Whatever, Draccy, so good to hear your voice~!” The familiar screeching voice on the other end of the line made him want to throw the damned phone into the sea.

“Do not address me in such a childish manner. State your business.”

“Seriously? No, ‘How are you, haven’t heard from you in a while. Glad you’re still breathing’?”

“Goodbye, Perona.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait! I need a favor!”

“You have the nerve—”

“I need a place for Master Moria and I to stay! Please, it’ll only be for a little while. Just until we can get a new ship and—” She started sobbing horribly into the receiver, “And a-a-a new zombie gen-general.” She finished by blowing her nose loudly into the phone. Mihawk was utterly unmoved.

“Look now is not a good time, perhaps I can call you back once you’re closer to Emptee Bluffs.”

“We’re already docked in the harbor.” She sniffled.

“YOU ARE WHERE?!” Mihawk yelled and even he surprised himself by how loud he’d been.

“Give me that.” A voice grumbled on Perona’s end, “Hello?”

“Hello, Moria.” Mihawk seethed, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently.

“Look, I tried to tell her that this wasn’t a good idea; but we don’t have a lot of places to go. I’m not exactly in great shape right now either.”

“That I certainly believe.”

“…Perona was insistent, and you know how she is.”

“Yes, no convincing her at all. She’s alright then?”

“Yeah, not a scratch on her. But…” There was a dread in Moria’s voice Mihawk was unfamiliar with. He’d found the man to be grating on his nerves from their few brief meetings over the years. Mostly from his boastful lazy attitude but this was alien to his ears, “One of our crewmates didn’t make it out of Fullalead. She hasn’t taken the news well.” Mihawk suddenly understood the gravity in his voice, Perona’s tears were not her standard fake manipulative tactic like usual. They were very much real and Mihawk had failed to recognize it. 

“Fine.” He stated.

“Fine?”

“You have permission to dock here, but you should bring your ship around to the northern side of the island. We have larger accommodations there, they are currently not in use. We shall meet you in the coming days, we are having a nasty dispute at the moment and need to resolve that issue quickly.” Mihawk said, regaining his composure. See, he was fully capable of doing the talking for once without Crocodile.

“Am I the issue?” Wulf said, sadly. Mihawk watched as a quizzical expression formed on the snail’s features.

“Not now, Wulf.” He whispered to the boy, who looked up at him with fear in his eyes. Mihawk didn’t know why, he was being perfectly calm about this.

“Was, was that a kid?”

“No! It’s…it’s-”

“You have a kid?” Moria asked simply.

“No,no,no,no, you misunderstand. You see-” Mihawk tried to explain and Buggy plucked the receiver out of his hand.

“Look, we’re just watching him for Croc for a sec. Just dock where Mihawk told you to, okay?”

“Hi, Mr.Mihawk’s friends!” Wulf said, happy as ever.

“…You guys babysit now? Never pictured you as that kind of guy, Mihawk. Although, I guess you did watch Perona for a while. Maybe you have a knack for it, Kishishishi.”

“Hang up! Hang up now!” Mihawk hissed as he reached for the receiver and Buggy slammed it down ending the call. Mihawk was left to stew in not only his embarrassment but also in his frustration at the clown being unable to keep his big mouth shut.

“They seem nice.” Wulf said, kicking his feet as he smiled up at the two pirates. Mihawk just sighed and patted the boy’s head. He prayed that Crocodile would return soon since the second the boy was out of their temporary care he was going to strangle Buggy with his bare hands.

Notes:

I don't think individually any of them would be awful at watching children, but together; not so much. Also Moria and Perona <3

May or may not be set up for other fics *rubbing my hands together*

Chapter 17: Crumbling Sandcastles

This was without a doubt one of the most mortifying days of Crocodile’s life. It felt like everyone and their grandmother now knew all of his intimate personal business. And now Foxy and his brand new wife have learned one of the secrets he hoped would follow him to the grave, becoming lost to time. And worst of all, he was now crying about it like some pathetic child on their bathroom floor. Truly he was being mocked by whatever cosmic forces presided over his soul. He didn’t know where to even begin with repairing his image. All his hard work was slipping through his fingers again.

“Okay, I need you to go cry out there. I want to rinse my mouth out by myself, thank you.”

“But, Brûlée-”

“Both of you, get the hell out of here!” She yelled, shooing them out and slamming and locking the door behind them. Crocodile just stood there in shock, his face wet as Foxy looked up at him with concern. Neither one of them said anything for a while as they just stood there stupidly. Foxy finally cleared his throat and spoke.

“Your kid, uh, Luffy…he throws a mean punch.” He said, smiling like he’d just said something extremely clever.

“What?” Crocodile said, his voice not as normal as he wanted it to be. He grabbed Foxy by the collar and pulled him up to his eye-level, “You’ve met him? You’ve fought with him? When was this??!” He shook him slightly as he spoke.

“Two years ago.”

“Two-!

“Yeah, and I saw him again when I left Paradise. Did you know he’s got a talking skeleton now? And a robot? So cool.”

“You…so you’re friends?”

“Hell no! I hat—-have a good natured rivalry with him. You know, in classic pirate tradition.” Foxy said, a terrible liar as ever. Crocodile rolled his eyes.

“You don’t have to lie. I think he’s pretty annoying, myself.”

“Alright, I admit it. I hate his guts! But only because he beat me up, gave me a stupid nickname, and took our old jolly roger.” As he listened out each point he counted them down on his fingers.

“What do you mean he took it?”

“Long story, but the one he gave us to replace it is horrible. He has no artistic talent!”

“…Why did he give you a replacement?”

“You don’t really want to get into that right now, do you?” Foxy paused and Crocodile watched the gears in his brain turn as his face softened, “Would you like to see it?”

“Tch, no. You said it yourself, it’s ugly.”

“It really is.” He said sadly. It was a little silly, but it did make Crocodile feel just a little better knowing that even someone like Foxy had a run in with Luffy. He felt the hairs prickle on his neck as he had a horrible thought.

“Did he have a woman by the name of Nico Robin with him when you met him?”

“Yeah, she was annoying! Intriguing and mysterious type. Thought about stealing her for my crew, why?” Foxy said and Crocodile could feel his shoulders slump a little.

“So, you do have higher ambitions.” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Of course Foxy had no idea about her reputation or at the very least didn’t care enough to remember it. The man was a buffoon after all.

“Ah, old girlfriend?”

“No! She was my partner.” Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose, “Not in a romantic sense, like a business partner.”

“You do tend to mix business and pleasure a lot, so I don’t know…”

“Look, she was my partner agent when Baroque Works was active. That is all.”

“Oh, then she’s definitely an old girlfriend. Wait, and you fumbled her so bad she ran off with your estranged son. Wild.”

“I DID NOT—” He paused trying to regain his composure, “I simply ran out of use for her, he was a pirate fleeing the country. It was only a logical and tactical decision on her part.”

“Sure, sure. As far as I know you and Luffy have one thing in common, you don’t have a romantic bone in your bodies. Not to mention that you can both be extremely dense.”

“I’m going to gut you like a fish.” Crocodile said, brandishing his hook.

“Will that be before or after you make out with me again?” Foxy said smugly grinning. Crocodile was quite taken aback. After all of what had transpired today, after everything the man now knew and shared about him; he dared to suggest that they would be engaging in any sort of intimacy was insane. And yet…

“Romance is for the weak, only fools chase that anyway.”

“Being vulnerable with another person is what the core of romance is, Croc. Sure, there are people that don’t view it that way or don’t feel that pull at all. Despite how bad you are about it, you’ve basically admitted that you felt that pull before.” Foxy spoke evenly and softly. Crocodile didn’t feel the need to interject, “And I sort of understand how frustrating it is to build up an image, a reputation, and have it all washed away in a single instant over and over again. But I cannot imagine denying my desires, or feelings the way you’ve done. It’s just not a very piratety thing to do, really.” Foxy finished and Crocodile threw his head back and laughed.

“Ah ha ha ha, you are entirely stupid.” Crocodile said as he knelt his head down as Foxy was clouded by that depressive aura that usually formed when he was insulted. He was surprised when Foxy was the one to lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. Gentle and tender in a way Crocodile knew he didn’t deserve.

“You—” Foxy started as he pulled away but Crocodile was already back on him. He couldn’t stand to hear whatever the other man had to say. Crocodile’s brain was swimming. He wasn’t thinking about any of this logically, he just wanted Foxy. He wanted the man that looked at him like he was the most perfect and powerful man in the world. The one who’d never dragged him down for his past. The man who held that tiny baby like he was the most precious of treasures. Crocodile didn't even acknowledge Brûlée as he felt her remove his coat and press herself against his back. Her heartbeat was steady, soft. Crocodile knew this would only benefit the couple, as if they didn’t have enough leverage to get him to do whatever they wanted already. Foxy pulled back from him, traced his scar with his fingers again.

“That’s right, chase that feeling.” He whispered as he looked past Crocodile, up at Brûlée. He couldn’t see her face but he felt her place a kiss on his neck and he shivered. Foxy kissed where his fingers had traced along his scar and Crocodile let them. He felt like he hadn’t in a very long time, like he was submerged. Not drowning but, like he was sitting comfortably beneath the water. Watching the sun dance across the surface as he just floated. He blinked and the hand that had once reached out to try and touch that glittering surface became his hook again. His hook pressed against Foxy’s cheek, but he didn’t flinch. He placed his hand to it and Crocodile could have sworn that for a brief moment he could feel their fingers intertwining.

Notes:

The next chapter is going to be explicit. It's a rough time out there, but I'm still writing and still posting. Stay safe, y'all

Chapter 18: Oasis (Explicit) (Foxy/Crocodile/Brûlée)

Notes:

It’s been a bit. Life has been kind of rough recently, but I think that’s true for a lot of people right now. May I offer you porn that no one asked for in this trying time?

Crocodile knew how grossly irresponsible this was. If his other two guild “partners” ever found out he’d never be able to live down the embarrassment, but right now he just couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. Brûlée’s hands trailed down from his shoulders to the buttons on his waistcoat. Foxy was off to the side from them, hanging up their coats. It should not have felt like such a sweet gesture. He loathed when he would get in these moods. Everything even remotely kind or gentle activated something in his brain, and no matter how hard he tried he could never get it to fully turn off.

Foxy returned to them his hands joining Brûlée’s as they both opened his waistcoat and explored his chest. He groaned and chided himself internally for being so eager. Brûlée returned to his neck as she peeled his cravat off, her hands untucking his shirt. Foxy started undoing the buttons and shamefully Croc lowered himself to his knees, a response that had been so automatic between them all those years ago. Foxy had always been so insistent in helping him dress and undress, Crocodile had never needed or asked for the assistance but he did appreciate the how much less sand ended up in his clothes that way. He saw the surprise on Foxy’s face and prayed he would not comment, he was already embarrassed enough.

“Thank you.” Was all Foxy said and Crocodile still felt himself blush, not that it was ever very noticeable on his face. Brûlée turned her attention over to Foxy as she sat behind him, running her fingers over his exposed back and shoulders. He watched Foxy lean into her touch, her sharp claw-like nails not phasing him at all. Crocodile decided to just undo the buttons himself as he averted his gaze from them. He felt like he was intruding into a place he didn’t belong. They were a couple in the earliest and sickly sweet phase of a relationship, he had no business inserting himself into it. Crocodile paused his thoughts as Foxy crawled into his lap with that stupid smug grin on his face and he nearly jumped at Brûlée’s hands pulling off his button down shirt before returning to trace along his back, “Jealous?”

“Shut up.” Crocodile started squirming in the couple’s grasp but he wasn’t really trying that hard to escape. Unfortunately, they were all acutely aware of this.

“Wi, Foxy was right you are.” Brûlée teased, as she squeezed his pecs. Crocodile wanted to snap back at her for that completely untrue statement, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a throaty moan. He brought a knuckle to his mouth to bite back anymore unseemly noises but that just spurred her to fondle and play with them further. Foxy gently pulled his hand away from his mouth and brought it to his own, kissing his rings and lavishing attention on each digit. 

“No, no, no, ah!” He pleaded and his embarrassment only increased as he heard how utterly pathetic he sounded.

“Sir, you remember what to do if you actually want to stop don’t you?” Foxy said with Crocodile’s hand pressed onto his face. Crocodile nodded as Brûlée pinched his nipple and palmed the obvious tent in his pants, earning a whorish moan from him. “Sir, don’t just nod. I need you to say it so I know that you remember.” Crocodile nodded again and tapped two fingers against Foxy’s face.

“Sphinx.” He projected his voice as clearly as he could manage. The whine that followed made him want to crawl in a hole.

“Very good, sir.” Foxy said, reaching down and unbuttoning Crocodile’s pants.

“That is a terrible safe word.” Brûlée said, moving her other hand to Croc’s neglected left pec. The audible sound of the zipper as Foxy unsheathed Crocodile’s cock made him tremble. It was almost properly sexy before Foxy had to go and ruin it by talking.

“Fehfehfeh, Iva did a very good job. Nice amount of girth.” He said wiggling his eyebrows. Crocodile covered his face with his hand and almost conked himself with his hook. He really didn’t want to think about Iva right now.

“Foxy! Don’t say it like that!” Brûlée scolded. 

“Huh? What’s wrong with a compliment? Also I have to say something, last time his pants were off I was working with a T-dick.”

“Don’t say that either!” Again, she was coming to Croc’s aid despite not being asked. If he could stomach it, he’d have to thank her later. Or at the very least make sure she knew how much he appreciated it.

“Oh excuse me, am I allowed to say I’m excited to have him fuck me or is that comment inappropriate too?!” Foxy yelled and Crocodile felt Brûlée stiffen along with him against his back. Crocodile heard himself audibly swallow and could feel his dick twitching in Foxy’s loose hold. Brûlée had stopped fondling him but her stilled touch was just searing into his skin. It shouldn’t have excited him to finally be able to fuck this man into a mattress without using a strap to assist him. To be able to actually feel him clench around him and hear those delicious noises he made again.

He sighed as he could feel himself getting a bit too worked up, he desperately wanted it but to say so out loud would be more shameful than anything. Crocodile felt Foxy’s thumb press against his tip, precum oozing against it through his boxers. He licked his lips as he huffed at the beautiful picture in his mind of his cum splattered across Foxy’s back. He felt Brûlée’s breath on his neck as she rested her chin on his shoulder. He realized then that his eyes had fallen closed, he forced them open and regretted it as Foxy stared up at him, “You really like that idea, don’t you sir?” Foxy was holding his fully erect cock in his hand, just barely unable to close his hand completely around it. Fantastic.

“Yes.” He breathed out, his shame being out voted by sheer want and horniness.

“There, that’s it. Tell us what you want.” Foxy said finally freeing his cock from his underwear. He whined and shook his head and Brûlée held his hands still at his sides.

“If you don’t want to you can always watch us. We’d be more than happy to have fun without you~” She purred into his ear.

“No!” Crocodile lurched forward and grunted when Foxy brought his hands to cup his face instead of his cock. His nose made a natural barrier between their faces that Croc was appreciative of it in moments like this. Foxy didn’t try to coax him or fill the space, he just waited patiently for him to speak. Pushed a few strands of hair out of his already sweaty face and waited, “I want.” He tried to start, but his throat felt so dry. He felt Brûlée release his hands. No more distractions, he could do this. Demand and take, that’s what pirates do; what men do. Foxy just sat there waiting patently, staring at him. He felt his lip tremble and the corners of his eyes prickle. No,no,no,no,no. He wasn’t going to cry and beg for sex! What a stupid thing to get emotional about!

“Croc?” Foxy wiped away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He tried to turn his head away and steady his breathing, instead a sob hiccuped out of this throat. Fuck it, he was already falling apart. He really couldn’t embarrass himself much more tonight if he tried.

“You have-have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to feel you around me. It shouldn’t make me so….it’s stupid-” Crocodile was cut off by Foxy kissing him, passionately and messily. Croc felt himself being pulled on top of Foxy as he was pushed onto all fours above the ex-boxer.

“The bed is literally right there.” Brûlée grumbled as she lifted Croc up, wrapping her arms around his middle. Foxy was dragged up along with him by his suspenders as they were both tossed unceremoniously onto the bed. Crocodile actually yelped in surprise as Brûlée yanked his bottoms completely off, tossing them who knows where. Foxy was franticly trying to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, a lot of fumbling with laces. Crocodile didn’t mind, it gave him a chance to breathe. The soft sound of fabric connecting with floor brought his attention back to Brûlée. He was barely able to catch a glimpse of her before he felt the sensation of her bare flesh pressing against his and it made him shiver, “Keep talking.” She whispered, it was unclear if it was a suggestion or command. Crocodile obeyed in his own way regardless.

“No. It’s too embarrassing.” He protested.

“What? Embarrassing to who? I want you to remember that we’re both in the same boat here.” She whispered into Croc’s ear. It was in that moment that Foxy tumbled over the edge of the bed pulling off one of his shoes. The look the two of them shared a look as Foxy, now naked and only a tad embarrassed; clambered toward them. It was oddly comforting that they shared a bond of wanting a man with absolutely zero brain cells.

“Croc, Brû, are we still alright?” Foxy asked, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his desire to continue. Crocodile felt Brûlée just hold him loosely and tenderly, like they hadn’t just met today; almost perfect strangers. He nodded and heard Brûlée mumble out an ‘of course’, “Okay! Uh, we need lube that’s im-port-tant…” He trailed off as Brûlée deftly opened the drawer of her nightstand and placed a bottle into Croc’s hand and she got off the bed and knelt between Foxy’s legs. Her mischievous grin told him all he needed to know really. Crocodile was fairly certain it would be frowned upon if he got a bunch of sand in her bed so he quietly scooted over to the nightstand and quickly dissolved and reconstructed his hand. He thought about how his rings needed a good cleaning but he was certainly didn’t want a repeat of an incident which he promptly repressed. He shuddered.

“Oh, you’re not getting shy on me now are you?” Brûlée asked, it seemed Crocodile had managed to tune out some of their bickering.

“No, but, well…it’s different with an audience.” Foxy said and Brûlée rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m going to have some fun while he preps you. I don’t know about his stamina but I do know yours.” She said and Foxy slumped forward.

“…But you said I was the best you’d ever had.” He mumbled and Crocodile actually snorted. She shot him a glare before she reassured her husband.

“…I just don’t want you to feel obligated to, you know, after he finishes with you. Since that’s so damn important to him and all…” Crocodile suddenly wasn’t very sure if he could do this. Perhaps Foxy was right about it being different with an audience. 

“How considerate of you. Especially considering how much of—-Eep!” Foxy threw his head back as Brûlée got to work sucking him off. Crocodile pressed himself against Foxy as he thought about how he was going to pour this lube into his hand without using his sand to assist him. He ended up trying to ease his nerves by watching Brûlée work and taking in Foxy’s delightful twitches. Occasionally in between groans and grunts, he’d let out a squeak that made Croc want to mark up his shoulders, since he’d always hated Crocodile leaving marks on his chest.

Brûlée was a lovely sight herself, looking up at them through her lashes. No gagging or protest, making her own pleasured noises. Her undergarments were gone but she was pressed too close to the bed for him to take her in fully. He was able to see her hand quietly dipping between her legs to help her along. He quite enjoyed how open and willing they were to show him such an intimate act. Perhaps it was simply a kink of hers and it wasn’t nearly as personal as he was taking it. Still he felt the words roll off his tongue before he could think better of it.

“So beautiful.” Croc said, his voice carrying it’s usual tone now. Brûlée stopped and pulled off Foxy completely. He whined as she opened the bottle for him and squirted a generous amount on Croc’s fingers.

“There, lazy reptile. Worry about yourself.” She grumbled as she pressed a kiss to Foxy’s tip.

“Hm, what I wouldn’t give for you to offer that pretty little mouth to me as well.” He mumbled, finally inserting a finger into Foxy, “Hmm, watching your lipstick leave a ring around my cock. Letting me fuck your mouth.” He started to ramble as he inserted another finger. He didn’t care if it was silly anymore, he just couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself right now. Her wide-eyed stare told him she could definitely hear him as she pulled off of Foxy. Crocodile shut his eyes as he felt Foxy relax around his fingers. He inserted a third finger and Foxy moaned, his hole clenching around Croc’s fingers.

“What else?” Foxy prompted, like the evil little bastard he was. Crocodile had hoped he would ignore him whispering in his ear, but he really should have known better. 

“I want whatever you two will give me, even though it’s completely absurd to lust after a couple like this.” Crocodile felt the heat in his face as his eyes opened. He curled his fingers inside Foxy, vaguely realizing he had forgotten to find a condom (something he absolutely screamed at other people for doing to him in the past), he sighed and dared to look up from the small of Foxy’s back. Brûlée was nowhere to be seen until he felt her hand grip his ass. She dangled a condom in front of him as she made sure to press herself against him. He removed his fingers and Foxy whimpered about it.

“You can’t just say something like that and expect us to ignore that can you?” Brûlée asked.

“But—”

“I can be patient. We’ll see how you do with Foxy and maybe you’ll get your wish afterwards, hm?” She said and Crocodile sputtered before he carefully opened the condom wrapper and one handed slipped it over his cock. He didn’t often put on his own condoms, usually other people would step in and do it for him. Still, it felt good to be able to utilize a skill he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time practicing. Foxy crawled over closer to Brûlée’s headboard and flopped down with his head against the pillows. He looked a bit anxious but that wasn’t the most uncommon expression on his face.

“So, um, how do you want to do this, I guess?” He must have been very nervous if he was bothering to ask. In the past they’d just adjust positions as they went, there was never a lot of talking. That was how Crocodile had liked it. Oh sure, there was Foxy’s awkward attempts at dirty talk but that was just noise to him. He was one of the few hadn’t tread into the dysphoric sort that absolutely killed any sort of enjoyment for him.

“I-I don’t know. What um, do you think would be easier?” He felt ridiculous asking, but this wasn’t like using a strap. His cock was one size and he couldn’t just slot in one he thought would work well. Even that thought was making him feel strange. Hell, he’d done penetration with people post-Iva; but—this was just different. 

“Well, if he’s on all fours, you can really get in there, right?” Brûlée said, and it was starting to get very awkward again.

“Brû, just say doggy-style, we all know what that means.” Foxy said.

“I know, but that’s such an upsetting name for it.” She replied, her face pleasantly flushed. 

“But is that going to be comfortable, I don’t…” Crocodile trailed off.

“Awwww, you don’t want to hurt me? That’s so sweet of you Croco~”

“No, I just don’t want to make a bloody mess all over her bed! It’s got nothing to do with…let’s move on before I change my mind!”

“I don’t know why you’re worried about making a mess, he’s already cum on this bed plenty of times before.”

“Brûlée! Don’t tell him that.” Foxy whined as he flipped over and presented his ass to Crocodile. He took a deep steading breath as he scooted towards him and gently pulled one cheek to the side. He brought the tip of his cock to Foxy’s gapping hole. Brûlée was over to their left, assisting in spreading Foxy’s cheeks apart and he was currently shuddering in anticipation as he peered over his shoulder at them. Slowly Crocodile slid his tip inside, he felt both of them tense. Brûlée gently guided his hook to rest beside Foxy’s head, He was driven deeper as he had to reposition. Foxy’s breath hitched and he was so tight, perhaps too tight. He was starting to get concerned, the last thing he wanted was to have a trip to an ER with his Ex and his brand new wife.

“Breathe Foxy, breathe.” Brûlée soothed as she pushed his legs a bit further apart. She then began to drag her nails across his back, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that he could clearly feel it. He groaned as he pushed back and took more of Crocodile in.

“Ah, fuck.” He tensed as he hit the halfway point, he wanted to just shove it all in so he could adjust but he still wasn’t sure if it would all fit but; Foxy was doing so well. Brûlée had now moved to his right and he moved his hand to the small of Foxy’s back. He watched her run her palms over his back. Crocodile shouldn’t be here. She pushed on his shoulders and leaned down to whisper something he couldn’t understand. Crocodile had waited too long, this was wrong to be here. She placed her hand over Crocodile’s and ran her other hand over his back. Her breath was hot on his face as she leaned down mere inches apart.

“You’re doing so well, you’re not going to hurt him.” She said before she kissed him. Soft and languid with her tongue dancing between his lips. He was tasting them both as he moaned, his body lurching forward breaking their kiss. His spit dripped onto Foxy’s back as he processed that he was completely inside him. Foxy was already pawing at the comforter below them and mewling like some needy animal. Crocodile growled as he pressed his face into the back of Foxy’s neck, inhaling his scent before stopping and licking a stripe across his spine.  A switch seemed to flip in his brain as he licked and nibbled and kissed all along his neck and shoulders. All the while Foxy was squirming and panting beneath him.

“Move, come ah-on. Sir, please. Want it. Now.” Foxy managed to stammer out and Crocodile just hummed as he pulled his hips back and thrust forward and watched the ex-boxer below him bounce forward with the thrust, “Oh!”  Every smack of his hips had him making wonderful little sounds that Crocodile absolutely drank in. It was a slow and steady rhythm that let Crocodile bask in the feeling of his cock being squeezed by Foxy’s tightness. He back pressing to Foxy’s as his hips started to speed up. His hook curled around Foxy’s neck as he chased that bliss of filling this man to the brim. He wanted to cum inside him, mark him as his. No one else could have him. His. He was his. Crocodile opened his mouth to say it as he buried himself up against what he could only assume was Foxy’s prostate and he locked eyes with Brûlée.

She was laying on her side watching them, eyes hooded with lust. Her fingers tracing around the wet lips of her pussy. He groaned as he continued plunging himself in and out, trying to chase his release but he kept staring at Brûlée. He wanted to scream because he was so close but he just couldn’t get there, he felt like he was running out of breath. His thrusts became erratic and Foxy’s back arched as he yowled before his body went boneless against the now ruined comforter. Crocodile continued to try and achieve his climax but he was just getting more and more afraid, he felt like he was gasping for air as he reached out for anything solid. Brûlée took his hand as he pressed himself deep within Foxy again. He wanted this so badly. 

“It’s alright if you don’t cum. You wanted me to suck you off anyway, didn’t you?” Brûlée said as she kissed his knuckles. Crocodile made a strangled moan as he came and felt his eyes flutter closed. He felt himself go limp as he pulled out. Yanking the condom off before tossing it into a trash can by the nightstand. All of his thoughts were mush as he lay between the couple. They were speaking to him but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He liked this. Brûlée was playing with his loose stands of hair and Foxy gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, just between Brûlée’s fingers. He heard the rumble of his own voice but it wasn’t coherent to him still. But his bliss soon turned to panic as the gentle caresses and kissing stopped abruptly and clarity hit him like a stone to the back of his head.  

“Croc? What do you mean?” Foxy asked and Crocodile just remained silent. Brûlée just pressed against him before kissing his cheek.

“I didn’t quite catch could you say that again?”

“….. “ He rolled over and pressed his fingers to her outer folds.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. We probably shouldn’t spend too much time dawdling around anyway. I’m sure—-eep!” Brûlée jumped as his fingers were replaced by the dull curve of his hook. She sucked in a breath, “Ah! So cold.” He watched her grab his hook and guide the curve deeper inside. The pointed tip was facing away from her and Crocodile adjusted himself so he could better control how deep it went. 

“How intriguing. A murderous implement like this excites you?” He said, voice rumbling in his chest.

“Ooooh~ More.”

“You’re lucky I like to keep myself clean. People have breathed their last on this, y’know?” He said as she yanked back on it before grunting, “Be careful! If it slips all the way in, it won’t come out cleanly!”

“Hmm, you’ll have to clean it again.” She slurred as she ground down on the metal intrusion. Crocodile noted how her clit rubbed against the metal curve. He’d certainly hadn’t expected her to want something like this. His fingers joined his hook and traced along her splayed folds. It glistened with wetness and he felt himself letting his mind wander again. He became vaguely aware of Foxy settling beside her to watch. He didn’t attempt to assist or interfere, he just watched them work her pussy. Her breathing was rhythmic and loudly punctuated by various huffs and grunts. Once again he found himself unable to focus as he watched Foxy tracing shapes along her belly. His body pressed against her as she squirmed but her arm was curled around him, encouraging the soft kisses he placed along whatever patch of skin was closest. 

Crocodile carefully removed his hook from her folds to rest it beside Foxy. It glistened with her juices, what a lovely sheen. The fool must have taken it as some sort of gesture as Foxy grabbed the hook with his free hand and held it like it was still flesh. It was moments like these Crocodile felt the absence of two hands. He wished to feel a squeeze of reassurance or nails digging into skin as a warning for this to end here. But metal is cold and unfeeling, usually; Crocodile was sure it must have been warm in this current moment.

“Hm, Croc, remove your fingers.” Foxy said as Brûlée looked at him like she was going to claw his throat out. Crocodile didn’t ask any questions as he simply complied. Foxy then held his right hand a few inches above her dripping vulva in that stupid fox head shape he remembered him doing a lot. Crocodile was mildly confused as Foxy fired a beam and Brûlée started squirming more despite her pelvis being stuck in place, “You’ll want to work quick, you only have 30 seconds after all. Well, unless…”

“No! Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no! We have to take Croc back sooner rather than later!” She was absolutely not having any of it but Crocodile was now more intrigued than anything. He returned his fingers to her, which instantly stopped her flailing. He mentally counted the seconds before removing his hand eager to see just what this would accomplish. Foxy simply fired another beam and Crocodile was slowly getting the idea. And despite her protests Brûlée seemed to be trembling in anticipation. “Oh no, oh please, oh god. Hm, Foxy~”

“Hmph.” Was all Crocodile had to say as the two men continued to push back her release. After a couple minutes Crocodile was starting to tire of drawing this out, especially since she kept mewling about Foxy when he was doing all the damn work! He repositioned so that his head was between her thighs waiting for Foxy to beam her yet again. The man readjusted his angle and went through the same motions after which Crocodile dove into her pussy. Eating her out with fervor as he wanted to pull his name from her lips. It was like all the air had left her lungs as he felt her razor sharp nails grab his head. She yanked him up roughly to look at him as she held his hair bunched in her hand the other scrapped across his chin.

“Mine.” She rasped into his face and Crocodile felt heat blossom again in his stomach. He now knew what he must have said and for a moment he let himself indulge in the beautiful fantasy she was offering him. His hand grabbed hers as he pressed a kiss to her mons pubis.

“Mine. Both mine.” He breathed into her skin as pulled back to watch as her folds moved around long removed fingers. Her head fell back in a silent scream as she came with Foxy catching her from falling straight back. As he lowered her gently to the bed he took note of the two of them still holding his hands. Well, hook and hand. He couldn’t help but smile as Brûlée keep yanking his arm until he was laying to the right of her, finally releasing him as her arm wrapped around him. Foxy still clutched his hook and had brought it to rest across Brûlée’s stomach. He brushed some strands of hair out of her face and Crocodile kissed her hand, interlocking their fingers again. Crocodile finally locked eyes with Foxy again who broke into a devious grin as he spoke.

“Ours.”

Notes:

I don’t know how many more chapters are left in this fic, at least one more. Then I have like 15 other tie-in fics to write because I am overly ambitious. 😭😆✨

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of Buried Treasures (One Piece Rare Pairs)