#shamhawk

🍷| When Mihawk met the holy knight for the first time during a warlord meeting, he was appalled by his haughty tone and prideful stance. Men like him were the reason Mihawk covered himself in scent repellents to stay safe. However, that impression began to change when he noticed Shamrock eyeing him up and down, not with selfish hunger, but a softness in his eyes that seemed more like deep adoration.

After the meeting of the warlords was over, Shamrock followed Mihawk.

"Say, are you truly an Alpha?" Shamrock wondered, keeping up with Mihawk's quick pace.

"None of your business, I'm afraid," he replied curtly.

Shamrock's ridiculous cloak billowed behind him as he tried to keep up in his heels.

"I'm a world noble, my question was an order," he snapped and Mihawk finally stopped.

"I'm not, but neither are you," he provoked him, watching his face twitch in anger.

"How dare you-," his words got caught in his throat when Mihawk held his tiny blade against the nape of his neck, "This- this is an offense punishable by death."

Mihawk tilted the knife and waited for the prideful Alpha to fight back, but all he could muster was the sound of his breath hitching and an adorable little frown that did nothing more than amuse the swordsman.

"Go on then, kill me, punish me," he taunted, "I'm nothing more than a filthy human in your eyes, no? Why waste your breath staring at me?"

Finally, Shamrock snapped out of his trance and slapped the miniature blade out of Mihawk's hand.

"Get out of my sight," he commanded and the other man scoffed.

"If you wish to settle this with a duel, I will be here all night," Mihawk offered as he walked past Shamrock to pick up his knife.

🍷| Shamrock couldn’t tell if it was the wine or simply the stress wearing down on him, but he found himself standing in front of the swordsman's door, breathing in the faint Omega scent lingering in the air. His nose was trained well enough to pick up on it underneath the perfume.

"Come in," a voice called from behind the door and Shamrock fixed both his posture and collar.

Against his oath and loyalty, he had abandoned his duties to come here. Now was his last chance to turn around and swallow his desire to take in more of the mesmerizing Omega's sight and smell.

Shamrock did not turn around. He pushed the door open and was left speechless upon entering.

Mihawk lay on the bed, positioned on his side with a glass of wine in his right hand. He idly swirled it around while watching the knight gaze at his barren chest and the faint sweat dripping from it.

"Sit down," he told him and sipped on his wine.

Shamrock looked around, unable to find anything resembling a chair or seat.

"There’s nothing for me to sit on," he answered, narrowing his eyes.

"Then kneel," Mihawk commanded.

"Gods do not kneel before peasants," Shamrock hissed.

Mihawk raised his chin and drew in a sharp breath.

"You came here to court me," he stated and although Shamrock didn’t nod, he knew he was right, "So kneel, it's what your Omega wishes for."

At those words the holy knight dropped to his knees like his Lord had commanded him, red eyes wide open with lust and an eagerness visible in every twitch of his muscles. One nervous glance to the door and Shamrock couldn’t stop staring at the illusive man before him.

"My Omega?" He parroted.

Mihawk sat up and crossed his legs.

"Perhaps. If I find you acceptable," he taunted him as he stood up and walked around the knight in a circle.

"You know that's not how it works, the Alpha chooses his Omega," Shamrock said.

"In the world, yes, but within the walls of this room … I am the one who decides if you’re worthy. Arrogant Alphas deserve to be on their knees." Mihawk placed his finger under Shamrock’s chin and forced him to look up.

"There are no chains that bind you, dragon. But that's not what you’re after," the dark haired man continued, pushing his thumb between Shamrock's lips to take a look at his fangs, "You’re exactly where you always wished to be, isn’t that right?"

The knight turned red from shame, with nowhere to hide from the hawk's haunting eyes, he truly felt vulnerable for the first time in his life. He knew that the Omega couldn’t physically harm him, but he could do so much worse. His pride, his ego, even his status as an Alpha could all be broken if Mihawk spoke a single word of this to anyone.

Shamrock swallowed thickly before he nodded.

"Good boy."

🍷| Their first night together opened up a part pf Shamrock's consciousness that had been entirely foreign to him. Mihawk was confident and didn’t flinch, not even when Shamrock growled out of pure instinct or when he fletched his teeth at him upon having his hands tied up.

Shamrock was forced to stay on his knees, hands tied on his back, while Mihawk stood above him and pulled down his panties — he revealed his Omega pussy to him, lightly covered in black curls that were neatly trimmed. It glistened with arousal. Shamrock opened his lips wide and stuck his tongue out to catch a drop of slick, but when he wasn’t successful, he tried shoving his face between Mihawk's legs. He was swiftly slapped across the face.

"All Alphas are greedy, but you filthy nobles are the worst," he scolded him, "Don’t move. This isn’t about your pleasure."

Mihawk slowly sunk his pussy down onto Shamrock's lips. He clamped his nose shut with two fingers, leaving the knight with no choice but to serve him with his tongue if he wished to breathe again.

For a selfish aristocrat Shamrock was quite good at using his tongue. He ate him out with all the greed of a starved predator, making quite noises of pleasure as he enjoyed his meal. It was clear to see that the Alpha had needed this, badly, more than words could ever express.

Shamrock got drunk on Mihawk’s scent. Due to his mark he was unable to die from a lack of air, all it did was drive him mad with desire. He kept his head perfectly still as the Omega humped his face.

Every fibre of his body was screaming at him to throw Mihawk onto the bed and fuck him, it was his instincts kicking in, but he didn’t want to dominate him. The commoner had been right, he wanted to be here — on the floor, powerless, with a strong Omega commanding and using him as he pleased.

"Imagine if your fellow nobles could see you now, so undignified and-," even Mihawk was beginning to lose his voice as he rode himself closer to his orgasm, "And weak."

Shamrock moaned between the Omega's folds, sending a pleasant vibration through Mihawk's core that pushed him over the edge. A rope of thick juice leaked into the knight's mouth, after a moment of shock he began to swallow it eagerly. Just when he was about to lick up the remains of his slick, Mihawk stepped away and left Shamrock hungering for more.

"Look at you," Mihawk mused and wiped Shamrock's lips, then he brought his slicked up thumb to his lips and tasted his own arousal. "You made a mess of yourself."

"I-," Shamrock had nothing to say in his defense.

"Hm, don’t be ashamed. I found your tongue … somewhat pleasant," he complimented him dryly.

🍷| In the following weeks Shamrock sought out Mihawk again and again, always appearing at his door after midnight to beg for another training session. Mihawk was pleased with his progress, there was hardly any ego left inside the knight when he snapped his fingers and the man knelt down. The once proud Alpha was a pet now, a puppy eager to roll on his back and perform tricks for Omega.

Shamrock gave Mihawk a vivre card so he could find him if he was ever in danger and needed to hide. He did his best to distract the marines from hunting the warlord down or bothering him. It was a pleasant exchange.

Pleasure for power.

The knight brought Mihawk many gifts, from furniture to fill up the barren rooms of his castle to gold and wine, which Mihawk enjoyed quite a bit.

🍷| Shamrock was allowed to bite and chew on every part of his Omega, but never once did Mihawk give him permission to bury his cock inside of him. By the end of their sessions the knight was left with a fat, reddened knot that bounced between his legs, unable to release his cum where it belonged. Mihawk's womb was taboo.

"Don’t you think this arrangement is unfair?" Shamrock asked as they lay together in the large bed, sprawled out across the body and naked, feasting on fresh grapes.

"Hm, how could you complain after getting high on my juices?" Mihawk argued and let another grape fall into his mouth. "It's not my fault you keep coming here, knowing I won’t let you ruin me with that disgusting knot."

Shamrock felt his cock twitch at the insult, he grabbed it along with his fat balls and fought the urge to jerk off.

"Maybe you should take care of that, while I tell you how pathetic you are."

The knight nodded and got on his knees, them he bent down with his ass up, mimicking the way an Omega would present for his Alpha. He wrapped his hand around his dick and palmed it, feeling the pressure build up all too quickly.

"You’re a disgrace for your family name," Mihawk began, not even gracing Shamrock with a single look. "A pathetic excuse for an Alpha, pleading me to dominate you and make you obey, shouldn’t you be breeding heirs instead of rolling over for me like a bitch?"

"Yes," Shamrock breathed out, quickening his pace.

"Whore," Mihawk growled at him.

"Yes!"

"If you had a pussy all noble Alphas would be passing you around, your father would have sold you to a breeding ranch so you could live out your dream of being a cumdump."

"Yes, fuck yes!"

Shamrock came all over his hand, ruining the bed sheets and staining them in the process. He moaned and let his head sink into the pillows, worn out and tired he could barely make a sound nor keep his eyes open.

"My big, strong Alpha," Mihawk said mockingly, but fondly while playing with Shamrock's messy hair.

Looking up to Uta’s inevitable wedding with one of the strongest Holy knights, Shanks began to worry immensely about one thing more than any other…

How will he dance with his daughter!

He only had one arm! This was not ideal! His daughter also never danced with him before, so on top of it being already a new experience for her, it was equally a new experience to him!

And so, with a large tankard of his favorite beer and the advice of his beloved first mates, Shanks decided that the only real way to get out of this situation was to ask for help.

And who better to ask than his fancy ass brother and his husband!

Sure, it was an arranged marriage to link the Dracule family to the Figarland family, and truly Shanks did feel a bit guilty about using them this way when he was sure it was a rocky relationship, but he's a pirate! Life ain't fair!

Shanks made his way to Kuraigana, the stupid smile never faltering from his face as they approached the gloomy island, it held a special place in Shanks’ heart, since it was the island his rival lived on, and the one he often met his brother on. He had called Mihawk beforehand, asked him to have his brother on the island for his visit, and hung up before Mihawk could ask why. Mihawk obviously followed his rival’s request and asked for Shamrock to stay over on Kuraigana for a little bit.

To say that their relationship was awkward… Would be an understatement… Shamrock didn’t know how to act around Mihawk, and neither did Mihawk know how to act around a celestial dragon, with both being powerhouses on their own, talking to each other often ended in witty remarks, or simply didn’t go anywhere because of their uncertainties. They wanted to get closer to each other, really, since they were in this marriage anyways, but everything Mihawk did, Shamrock had someone do for him, so Mihawk couldn’t exactly share his hobbies, though the raven haired man took notice that Shamrock was a good listener, and sometimes they would spend hours sitting on Mihawk’s couch, with Mihawk going on about seasonal fruits and his gardens, and Shamrock listening carefully even though he was probably not all that interested.

Shamrock was more awkward when talking about himself, quite frankly, despite having coworkers and 'friends' in Marijoa, he didn't really have the time to talk to them at all, considering how busy his father left him. He tried telling that to Mihawk, and to say that the latter's expression was horrified- would be an understatement- And ever since then, Mihawk understood why it was so difficult to talk to Shamrock, it wasn't even his fault. Shamrock liked to talk about his family though, a lot. He was shy about it, boasting about his brother and niece's achievements and what not, but Mihawk repeatedly assured him that he was in a safe space, and he was never going to get judged in Kuraigana while he was with him.

That seemed to work for them, and they were happy with it. Shamrock was a good listener, and Mihawk had mountains of information and stuff to talk about, and thankfully he seemed to be warming up to Shamrock… Slowly but surely. When Shamrock heard that his brother wanted him at Kuraigana, he basically left everything behind and went down to Kuraigana immediately.

One day, Shamrock made his way downstairs to see Mihawk cooking… more than enough for the two of them. The red head slid next to Mihawk and waited until he was done with the task at hand, once the latter began wiping his hands after putting the pot on the stove, Shamrock tilted his head in a questioning matter, a hair strand falling on his eye that Mihawk mindlessly put behind the red-head's ear.

“Shanks is coming today.” He replied to the silent question simply.

“Ah… That’s the reason you called me down here anyways..”

“I don’t know why but he did want us together when he comes, I’m cooking for them.”

“Very well…” Shamrock wanted to offer his hand, but he knew nothing about standing in the kitchen, maybe besides how to use a knife well (in killing, not to cut vegetables). Oh well, Shamrock knew that Mihawk would talk to him if he wanted anything. Shamrock jumped on an empty counter and watched as Mihawk walked around in the kitchen, both in a hurry and not in a hurry somehow.

“Uh… Why are you cooking for the crew? Don't they have a cook?”

“A bad one, their taste buds have been diluted to hell with the amount of alcohol they drink.”

“Very well… that's… kind…” Shamrock awkwardly complimented, he really did want to try and get closer to the person he was marrying but good god was it hard for him to communicate–

“Has Shanks told you why he wanted us both here?” Mihawk questioned Shamrock, shaking a droplet of sweat from his forehead.

“No, He never called me after you told me to come down here.”

Mihawk sighed, “Very well.”

"Is he bringing Uta?" Shamrock asked, hoping to see his neice.

"As far as I'm concerned no, she's still in Marijoa with her fiancee for the preparations."

Shamrock sighed, "Gunko's stealing my niece from me."

"Love, she's not stealing anyone with the shovel talk you and Shanks gave to her."

"True!" Shamrock took a step forward to stand next to Mihawk with a sheepish smile, Mihawk squinted his eyes at him, knowing what he wanted.

“You're not a child anymore.”

“I get special privileges.” Shamrock countered.

Mihawk chuckled ever so slightly and took some of the food into a spoon, raising it to Shamrock’s mouth to taste first.

“Always the best.” Shamrock said easily and leaned in to kiss Mihawk’s cheek before walking off somewhere.

The younger man walked around the castle to make sure it was presentable, although he knew that the moment the red hair pirates came in, it would be all chaotic and messed up to hell and back.

“Can you grab some wine out of the cellar, love?” Shamrock heard Mihawk on the door as he wiped one of his wine glasses clean.

“You know they're gonna drink it as if it's cheap booze right?” Shamrock snickered as he walked towards the cellar.

“It is still good hospitality, you should know that.”

“If it wasn't drilled into me.” Shamrock playfully rolled his eyes and went to grab a bunch of bottles for his brother's crew.

Shamrock had never anticipated that he would ever memorize someone else's favourite wine, but ever since his engagement with Mihawk and his reconnection to Shanks, he knew what the entire crew preferred. (And a special cabinet just for his niece's favourite drinks)

By the time he gathered everything, Mihawk was setting up the food in the large dining room meticulously.

“Ah, you're back.” Mihawk calmly stated.

“I bought a little more than what's recommended, hope that's fine with you”

“Money isn't exactly an issue.” And to that Shamrock giggled.

“You've got a fine laugh, my dear. You ought to let it out more.” Mihawk said smoothly while going back to the kitchen to bring the food. God knows Shamrock almost fell to his knees after that.

As usual, the reunion of the twins was chaotic, with Shanks immediately jumping onto Shamrock’s the moment they were in the line of sight of each other and clinging onto him like a koala, Shamrock had tried his absolute best in trying to stay calm and composed, but all that went to hell the moment Shanks laid sight on him.

He had to fight to pry him off of him in front of the crew, until eventually Beckman pulled Shanks off by the collar like a guilty cat.

Shamrock had unintentionally pouted as he tried to fix his neat hair, he spends a lot of time on it! His partner appeared next to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Shamrock could feel Mihawk’s glare at the pirates that basically told them not to annoy him anymore, and he felt a little giddy at that.

Dinner was chaotic, obviously , since they were a bunch of rogue pirates that have probably never heard of the word etiquette. Shamrock admittedly got overwhelmed at just the sheer… nature… But sitting next to Mihawk, who seemed to have already accustomed himself to his rival’s crew was eased the knight significantly, and everyone managed to make it through dinner alive, after which Shanks immediately took kidnapped Shamrock and Mihawk to the ball room in Mihawk’s fancy castle.

The couple were admittedly.. Confused.

The pirate turned around all suddenly and let out a loud breath.

“Listen, Uta is getting married–”

“We know?” Shamrock cut off with a raised eyebrow, good manners told him this was bad, but it was his brother so it was acceptable.

“I don’t know how to dance!”

“We know.” Mihawk and Shamrock replied at the same time.

“Ugh!!” Shanks spun around and began walking in circles while murmuring to himself, “I thought you two were the most suitable people– I mean the fancy suits, the castles– I just naturally thought you guys would help but–”

Shamrock did the most sensible thing in the situation and grabbed Shanks by the collar to smack against the nearest wall to shut him up.

“Dear, next time do that on the floor, the walls aren’t so steady.” Mihawk calmly commented to Shamrock and the latter nodded in understanding and murmured an apology.

It took Shanks a solid few seconds to get back up to lunge at his brother before getting carried like a cat (again) by Mihawk, despite him being taller than his brother in law.

“We never said we won’t teach you.” Mihawk dropped Shanks and glared at him.

“Oh– Yeah–” Shanks rubbed his neck shyly. “Please please please! I need to practice too!”

Shamrock perked up at that, dancing with his brother??? Absolutely! He never got the chance to get closer to him for years… Shamrock truly cherished any moments he got with his brother.

“Do you have that snail, hawky?”

Mihawk's face reddened, when they were discussing wedding music to dance to at their wedding, they had come up with a snail full of some lovely piano tunes, some of Mihawk's careful compositions as well! Shamrock was truly entranced with how Mihawk's hands flew timelessly on the keyboard, as if his hands were pure and clean of any… atrocities.

After their wedding, Shamrock wanted to learn, truly. But every time Mihawk offered he refused, feeling as if he would taint the precious and expensive instrument with his blood soaked hands.

The raven haired man shrugged, trying to appear not moved with Shamrock even remembering the snail, “Of course I have it.” He brought it out from inside of his coat, and it might as well be Shanks was trying to jump into it with how close he was being.

“You'll watch us first.” Mihawk stated sharply and Shanks nodded enthusiastically.

The snail was put in his lap as he sat on the floor to watch…

Mihawk bowed ever so slightly, extending his hand for Shamrock to take, and they immediately began. Mihawk led strongly, and Shamrock followed ever so elegantly, his feet following his partner's in perfect rhythm as the music played in the background, Mihawk's shorter height did not make a difference to his dancing, he led, and he led strong.

One could tell from Shamrock’s face how mesmerized he was, from the music that was composed with his fiancé's hands, to the truly elegant dancing, Mihawk's hand that was on his waist forcing him so gently to move how he wanted, and Shamrock dares not defy and allowed himself to be led.

Who knew the commander of the Holy Knights would be so smitten for his partner…

The younger red head watched with mesmerized eyes, the amount of passion they had for each other was practically oozing out, the dance moves perfect and smooth, as if made for each other.

Finally, Mihawk pressed Shamrock’s torso against his own and leaned in to tip the red hair back, ending in their faces being close to each other, and Mihawk giving his partner a kiss of appreciation on his forehead, before straightening both of them back up.

The whistle Shanks let out was… loud and left the couple embarrassed, but Mihawk they were still content.

Shamrock grabbed Shanks by the arm and pulled him up.

Shamrock glared at Shanks, “Your turn.”

“But that was quite the show! C'mon!” Shanks tried to convince them to dance again but it was futile.

“Uta would go like this.” The older put his hand on the younger's shoulder and another on his waist. “So where will you put your hand?”

“On her shoulde-”

“Incorrect.” Mihawk appeared next to them. “You don't have control if your hand is on her shoulder, thus it goes to her waist.” He fixed Shanks’ hand to be on his brother's waist.

“You're a big idiot.” Shamrock commented with a grin.

“I'm trying!?” Shanks yelled with a pout, making Shamrock’s face soften.

Mihawk played the music again, and Shamrock explained the steps to Shanks slowly, giving him space to lead and to get used to only having an arm to dance with, and of course, he did get smacked on the head by Mihawk several times to get his steps right, but of course he slowly got better and more confident in his steps. Shanks’ laugh echoed, as it usually did when he was over the moon, and certainly the atmosphere only got better around him.

---In the Manmayer residence---

Grand music was playing for Saintess Gunko and Uta as they danced together, Uta was more trained than Gunko would have thought, considering she was a popular pop idol. Gunko led Uta, her hand holding her waist tightly as if she was going to disappear. Her eyes were fixated on Uta's purple ones, completely mesmerized by their beauty. During their dance practices, Gunko stole every opportunity for an extra touch, pushing Uta against her for brief moments when the music was slower, bending down to hold her head into her neck to feel her pulse, her hand brushing the strands of her sticky with sweat from her face.

Every touch of Gunko's screamed devotion, and Uta was so adorably in love with the knight, melting more more with each touch given to her, and her always coming back for more, and Gunko providing happily. For Uta, with how uncertain her life was growing up, and with how often Shanks just disappeared, she was all too grateful to have found a lover that didn't shy away from affection and was completely honest with her.

Gunko had made special snails for Uta, had changed her whole schedule around for Uta, gave her an entire wing in their estate for her to practice, and provided all the instruments Uta would ever need.

Uta had tried to convince Gunko that it was... too much.

"You're going to be a Manmayer, this is all a fraction of what you deserve." Gunko would refute, holding Uta's hand to her covered lips. Uta knew how to spot a liar, and there wasn't a single ounce of that when she was with her lover...

Uta shared her concerns with Gunko one day about being awkward dancing with her dad... Seeing how he has one arm- And thus Gunko obviously offered to help.

They began going to the ballroom to practice, with Gunko tucking her left arm behind her back and for her to only lead Gunko with her right arm.

"You're surprisingly good at this-" Uta exclaimed as Gunko's hand seemed to be enough for the dance.

"Is it wrong to reassure my darling? Your father loves you, surely he's doing the bare minimum to get used to dancing." Gunko answered with a soft smile that put Uta's heart at ease.

"I- I guess you're right!" Uta giggled, sure her worries won't 100% go away, but a majority felt like it was lifted off her shoulders.

---

By the end of the day, Shanks had gotten comfortable, he even tried with Mihawk (who complimented him!!!).

So… one would think everything was alright!

Nope!

Shanks fell to his knees crying at the end of the day because he still thought that he would fumble the dance up. Hell, his daughter was marrying a Holy Knight. How can he not be scared!

Even moreso, he and Shamrock were sure to almost want to fall the moment they eventually see Uta in a wedding dress, she was still a baby just a week ago!

In the midst of his breakdown, and Mihawk trying pathetically to comfort Shanks, Shamrock got a call from the lady herself. He cleared his throat and answered.

“Figarland Shamrock.”

“Manmayer Gunko, Imu needs us together, commander–” A loud wail rang through the snail, enough for Gunko to push it away. “I assume that’s not you, commander.”

“Your assumption is right, that’s not me.” Shamrock pushed the mouth piece away from him, turned around, and yelled at Shanks. “Shut it while I’m in a call!”

Shanks bit his lip and gave his brother a thumbs up.

“Hm? Why’s my father in-law crying like a baby? The wedding isn’t for another two months, it’s early.” Gunko asked Shamrock casually, almost out of boredom.

“He’s scared he won’t be able to dance with Uta because of his one arm.” Shamrock sighed in annoyance– After all their work for the day and Shanks was on the ground crying!

“Oh? That’s my exact same situation, my darling won’t stop crying about how she’s worried she won’t do it right, I’ve been helping her practice by taping my left arm behind my back!” Gunko exclaimed. “Is that why you’re with Mihawk?”

Shamrock smiled and giggled before answering, “Yes, he came to us for help, but he’s still ever the worrywart when it comes to Uta.”

“Ah, like father, like daughter, I guess. Don’t tell Uta about her father and the opposite, it’ll be funny to see them in our wedding all worried and shuffling around.” Gunko chuckled and looked at her nails, thinking of what design she should wear for the wedding.

“If you say so.” Shamrock turned around to watch what was Mihawk still in the process of calming Shanks down, to the point where he had to call Beckman to help him calm the captain down, the line was quiet for a few moments, another voice came through on the other side, but it was too quiet for Shamrock to decipher.

“Darling? No, I’m not busy, come over here... There you are,” Gunko muttered, very obviously to her fiancee, and Uta shuffled sleepily into her fiancee’s lap.

“Is she with you?” Shamrock whispered to the mouth piece.

“Fast asleep too, she doesn’t like it when I stay up late away from our bed.” Gunko played with Uta’s hair as she explained the situation. “I was helping her all day today practicing, so she’s tired, and stressed, and overwhelmed.”

"You stay up way too late working... You should rest!" Uta mumbled into Gunko's neck.

"Yeah yeah, I know, but I'm quite important around here, I can't just leave my duties." Gunko reasoned.

"Hmph, I can support us just with my career!"

"I love spoiling you though, so my job stays." Gunko countered, pulling on her bandages down to give Uta a soft kiss on the temple to hopefully soothe her to sleep fully.

Shamrock waited until their (adorable) little converation was over to speak again, “Tell me about it…” The commander muttered as Beckman was giving Shanks some sort of encouragement talk- When did he even get here!?

Uta grabbed the phone piece aggressively before yelling in it (More to both Gunko and Shamrock), “You were like that when you were getting married to Mihawk! My fiancee helped you get comfortable dancing! It’s normal that I’m feeling this way!!!” She pouted and also began crying– To which Gunko had to hug her to calm her down.

“Alright– Sorry darling, I truly didn’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just funny how all the Figarlands are copies of each other.” Gunko apologized sincerely, hugging Uta tightly with one arm and -barely- holding the mouth piece with the other.

“S-sorry- Uta.” Shamrock also apologized, and she let out a huff, clearly still being hugged and kissed repeatedly by Gunko on the other side.

“I forgive you both, because I’m so nice-” Uta murmured and fell asleep for the second time on Gunko.

“She’s out cold this time.” Gunko sighed, happy to have gotten Uta to calm down.

Shanks was approaching Shamrock to see what the call was about, after having been calmed down and repeatedly assured he wasn’t ass at dancing.

“Good luck with your fiancee.” Shamrock told Gunko.

“Good luck with your brother, which in my opinion, is way worse.” Then she hung up, presumably to stop talking so as to not wake her beloved singer up… She had a point in that training Shanks was way worse–

“Who was calling this late?” Shanks asked his brother.

“Just some boring work stuff, it’ll bore you out.”

“Ah, you know me!” Shanks grinned, thankfully he seemed to be in a better mood.

“Alright, are you ready to go again?” Shamrock asked and put the snail back into his pocket.

“Of course!”

There was nothing Shanks wouldn’t do in this world for Uta after all, and he was sure Shamrock’s right hand woman was the same, if not more, so he knew he couldn’t embarrass his daughter with his weak dancing skills, never. And thankfully, Shamrock and Mihawk were more than happy to help him.

---

Father Figarland finished his sermon, emphasizing the consequences of those who stray from the path of God, warning of hellfire and brimstone. A sea of pallid faces stared back at him in shocked guilt, trying to convince themselves that their afterlife would not be so bleak. He sensed he’d be listening to many of their concerns after service. 

The alter boy stood beside him, holding the goblet and dish for the eucharist: wine and wafers. Blood and body. The church stood in sync, lining up before him to receive the sacrament. Each person was just as rotten as the last, bending down before him, looking up at him with pleading eyes, their ugly faces just as putrid as their souls. 

He held out a wafer, and glanced down, his hand stuck midway as he froze. It was if an arrow struck him, he could scarcely draw breath. An angel must have descended from heaven and graced him with their presence. This angel had golden eyes that shone like a sunset on still water, black hair as dark and pure as night, pale skin as soft and delicate as downy feathers. Who was this divine being? He’d never seen his face before. 

The man looked up at him through thick dark lashes, his hands pressed in prayer, face tilted just slightly, those plush lips parted to reveal gleaming white teeth and a slick pink tongue, sticking out, ready to receive. 

Heat coiled in his belly. Something wonderful and terrible had awakened in him. He felt ill with it, this ache, this desire. Sweat beaded at his brow, his hand trembled slightly as he placed the wafer on that waiting tongue. He sucked in a quiet breath, trying to calm his thrumming heart, but his body was alight at just the graze of the stranger’s hot breath, at the glancing brush from his tongue. He subtly squeezed his legs together, shifting in place, praying that his uncontrollable erection was not noticeable. He hadn’t gotten hard like this...ever. It was sudden, intense, as if he were possessed. He had the overwhelmed desire to dip his fingers into that waiting mouth, to press the stranger’s face into his aching cock, to feel that tongue on his body. 

He was too hot, itchy and sticky in his robes, burning with shame, with desire, with fury but he had to finish the service. He kept an eye on the raven-haired stranger after he walked away, his gaze drawn to him naturally, constantly seeking him out. He rushed through the rest of his motions, dismissing his parishioners then hurried away from the pulpit to speak with the stranger. He felt as if something truly terrible would happen he didn’t follow, didn’t catch his name. He felt so strange as if he had a deep wound with no bleeding; a panicked urgency compelled him and he was lost, unmoored. The only thing he wanted was to follow the compelling sight of that dark-haired tempter, but he was stopped by these worthless sheep. He continued smiling and shaking hands with the wretched regulars. These old dying buzzards would not stop talking, lining up to get their five minutes of attention so they could trick themselves into thinking they were on the path to heaven. These fools were no where near it. The next moment he glanced up, the stranger was gone. He weaved his way through the church, searching, but as he waved away the last churchgoer, he knew he was gone and the church had never felt more empty.

... 

“Father.” A lovely voice sounded next to him. Shamrock eyes blinked open, slowly, like time had forgotten how to function. The room had a hazy quality to it, as if gossamer covered his eyes, but he was aware of his body, of the bed beneath him, the warmth of his covers, the cool silk of his pillow cases. He just couldn’t move. 

Something heavy made the bed shift beside him and cold fear gripped him. He lived alone, had no guests, no pets. It moved closer and Shamrock could barely turn his head to look. He froze when he saw what lay beside him: The man from this morning’s service. Gorgeous and lovely, right there, in his bed. The stranger dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss Shamrock’s neck, those soft lips so plush and warm, the touch making him realize how much he ached for it. Shamrock wanted to move away, but he couldn’t even lift a finger. He craved this man’s touch, longed for it, but it wasn’t right. To receive affections from another man, to want it? What would his father say if he knew? His parishioners? He was crumpling under the ever present, watchful gaze of the Lord, his lungs struggling to fill, heart pounding madly in his chest. And still he couldn’t move. 

Long fingers traced a searing path over his bare chest, the sensation of skin on skin, where no one ever touched him, left him breathless and burning. Wrong. It was so wrong, disgusting, sinful, blasphemous. He couldn’t speak, still too shocked, too curious, too addicted. The stranger sucked at his neck, his hand sliding down his abdomen, to the edge of his sleep-pants, dipping below the waistband. 

Shamrock’s heart leapt into his throat and he choked out a gasp, finally finding his voice. 

“E-enough!” 

The stranger paused, and Shamrock could feel him smile against his neck before he turned head to nose at his jaw. 

“Relax.” He murmured, hand sliding over his rigid cock, the glancing brush of his calloused palm over his shaft enough to have him moaning aloud. He had to stop, God would punish him for this, he would burn in hell for eternity for letting another man give him pleasure like this, no matter how good it felt. 

“I-I can’t do this. My faith-” Shamrock started, biting off the words as soon as the stranger gripped him.  

“Shhhh.” He hushed Shamrock, slowly stroking him. He couldn’t resist, didn’t want to. And that was the shameful truth of it. He wanted this, but it wasn’t allowed, not under the rules he had lived by for so long.  

The stranger’s hand moved faster, and Shamrock’s whole body trembled, fighting hard against himself, against his invisible bindings, against the mounting heat rising in his abdomen. 

“Cum for me.” The stranger whispered against his ear, teeth grazing the lobe.  

It was the sudden sensation of warm and wet, sticking to his underwear and bare skin that woke him. He lifted his hips from the bed, disoriented and groggy, attempting to shuffle off without making the mess in his sleep pants worse. He hadn’t had a wet dream since he was young and he felt the same amount of hot shame washing over him as he hurried to hide his release.  

Guiltily he stripped down and wiped himself off. It didn’t feel like enough, his skin crawling at his loss of control, at the sins of his body and mind. He turned on the shower, desperate to cleanse himself. Under the cold spray, he rolled over the details of his dream in his head like a stone in his palm. He was so sure he had squashed any kind of desire for men. He had recognized it in himself long ago, and knew he could never act on it. When he had told his father he would become a priest, it was the only time he had said he was proud of him. He couldn’t disappoint him, not for the attention and affection of a stranger. He worked so hard to rid himself of this desire, but here was this beautiful man, awakening something awful and lustful inside of him. How could the passing encounter with a stranger affect him enough to cause him to have such a vivid dream, to make him...spill in his underwear like a prepubescent child?