♡ Who really cares about a little rust? ♡

Two years. It had been two years since Nero was last seen. Two years since they had been a loyal member of the family. Two years since they had laid beside the King of Dressrosa in bed, with love and adoration shimmering in their aquamarine eyes.

Two years since their betrayal.

Doflamingo did not want to call it that. He didn’t want to believe that his most beautiful, loyal, and treasured subordinate had betrayed him. There was no evidence it was intentional, after all. They had disappeared suddenly, without a trace. There must have been an accident, a kidnapping, or something urgent that Nero had to attend to. They would never run away from him, Doflamingo believed that. He swore to cut off the tongue of anyone who dared to spoil his fantasy. He wanted to believe it was real, and so it was.

Nero’s scent dwindled and faded from the bed as the years passed. Doflamingo desperately grasped at the sheets where Nero used to lie, wishing he could capture each hint of sweet treats and salty ocean water in his grasp. He never dared to wash his sheets until the scent had fully faded. He made sure to check for any trace of Nero before tossing the pink cloth into a machine. He would press his nose deep into the mattress and breathe in until he was too lightheaded to get back up. Only when it failed to bring him any more pleasure did he give up.

There was little to grasp onto after that. He often cursed himself for washing Nero’s clothes. At the time, he did it for the toothy grin that would spread across Nero’s face when they’d spot their favorite pajamas folded neatly over the bed… and the praise he would receive after. Now, it was far too rare to find anything that had been worn. Even then, the smell would have faded at this point.

As morning dawned, the king rose from his bed. Layers of soft, pink blankets fluttered down to expose his bare chest. He squinted his eyes against the harsh sunlight pouring in through the window, which illuminated half of his bed. Rays of sunlight reflected off of his form, causing him to glow and shimmer like the sun. However, the area beside him stayed pitch black, cold, and empty. He patted the blankets beside him, as if comforting someone that was no longer there. His lips pressed into a deep frown as he slipped out of the comfort of his nest and quickly shut the blinds, dousing the pink room in complete darkness.

His heels clicked against the tiled floors of the palace as he entered his throne room, clutching a leather-covered book in one hand. He settled into a seat near the only open window, providing the only source of light in the room. The sun had just finished rising, and its rays gave the king just the right amount of light to trace the words on the pages. The wooden chair creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and brushed his hand over his phonograph. He traced the wooden patterns engraved into the side with his fingertips before placing the needle onto the already set CD. A comforting tune echoed off the walls as he leaned back, swinging his legs over the table and crossing them. He gently stroked the cover as he turned the pages of his book, engrossed in its writing.

Unfortunately, a soft knock at the door interrupted his quiet moment. “Young Master?”

“Come in,” he ordered, a hint of annoyance present in his voice. Though, his expression softened once he saw Baby 5 open the large door, holding a cup of coffee and a newspaper in her slender hands. Doflamingo slipped a silk bookmark between the pages of his book and gently shut it to give his full attention to Baby 5.

She placed the cup of coffee on a small plate by his thigh, right at the corner of the table. At the same time, she offered him the rolled up newspaper. Doflamingo happily accepted, clutching it in his hand before unraveling it with a giddy smirk on his face. He thanked his servant before turning his attention to the headlines. Pirate alliances, Marines abusing their power yet again… apparently Strawhat Luffy had raided Enies Lobby and caused a bloody massacre. Doflamingo twitched his foot in excitement. The world never changes. Humans never change. Just violence and blood splattered all over the news. As he began to turn the page, he noticed bounty posters sandwiched between the thin paper. He gently slipped them out and set the newspaper on his lap; no harm in checking if some pirates were on the rise. He flipped through the posters. Of course Strawhat’s bounty went up, as did Pirate Hunter Zoro’s. There were some new faces as well: Sanji, Franky, Sniper King…

He paused when he flipped onto the next poster, a pirate going by the name “Fishbones.” Not an impressive bounty, and he didn’t recognize the name. The picture, however…

“Fishbones?” Baby 5, who had been looking over his shoulder, furrowed her brown in confusion, “Isn’t that--”

Nero.

Nero. Nero. Nero. Nero. Nero. Nero. NERO.

What the FUCK.

Doflamingo shot up from his seat. His hip clashed with the edge of the table, but this failed to slow him at all. The mug fell and shattered to pieces while hot coffee spilled from its wounds. Baby 5 watched with concern as the king stomped out, slamming the door behind him. A loud thud echoed through the now silent throne room. Baby 5 quietly retrieved a broom to sweep up the remnants of ceramics.

Doflamingo flung himself into his bedroom and kicked the door behind him so hard the walls rattled and shook. He clutched the crumpled up wanted poster in one hand, knuckles turning white from the strain. As the palace settled from its trembling, he collapsed onto his bed, the frame creaking under the sudden weight. Only when he was sprawled across the bed on his back did he realize he was sweating. As he unraveled the paper tucked between his fingers, veins became prominent on his forehead and his brow twitched with anger. He laid there, panting and heaving, his chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm himself. However, each time he saw their face, his anger bloomed in a matter of seconds. He examined the poster regardless, tendons bulging from his hands. There was no doubt that it was Nero. Though, they had a different appearance, a different name, and most likely a different crew. The one person he had loved, had cared for, had cleaned and folded pajamas for, had betrayed him. A wasted effort, he thought. After all the years he trained himself to believe in them, believing that they would never betray him, this confirmation felt as if they had slapped him in the face and spit in his mouth. Surely, this was just a way to piss him off.

His fingers tensed in rage, clenching the poster with one hand while the other wiped sweat from his brow. As he grit his teeth and groaned with frustration, his hand slid down his face. Down his chest, to his abs, to the rim of his pants.

After everything I gave to you, after every bit of love I showed you, after you promised me we’d be together forever.

Their eyes printed onto the thin paper stared into his soul, and mocked him. He slipped his fingers beneath his pants.

Everything we shared, every time we touched, and kissed, was it all nothing to you? Is this the thanks I get?

A tiny spark surged through his body as his fingertips traced over his sensitive skin.

Are you trying to mock me? To make me angry? Did you want my attention so bad that you became a wanted man on purpose? Whatever the hell it is, it’s working.

Doflamingo’s fingers began to loosen up, the bulging veins and tendons fading and allowing color to flow back into them. He sighed, the fabric of his pants straining, stretching, and moving with his hand trapped inside. It squirmed vigorously, almost like a mouse trying to escape the belly of a snake through its skin. Though, it was already far too deep to hope.

He stared down the eyes of the poster, grunting as his hands worked to please him. He brought the paper closer to his face, entranced by the image of his lover and the rage that clouded his mind. He opened his maw and unleashed his tongue, pressing it to Nero’s face and ravishing the damp paper. There was no taste, but he loved to imagine. He bucked his hips into his fingers harshly, gasping as fluids leaked down his body.