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dethoratsTitle: Homespun
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 936
A/N: First of three 'desire' pieces
Consciousness trickled in, warmth first and then noise as quiet susurrations filled his ear, puffed softly against his neck. Awareness followed, true awareness as Shanks broke through the surface of sleep to wakefulness, and he lay still, eyelids remaining closed as he waited for the stab of pain in his temples that had a tendency to greet him in the mornings. But when only the slightest ache, probably from dehydration, echoed through his skull, he grinned and slowly opened his eyes. A white wall and a picture of sunflowers met his gaze; a low chest of drawers topped with a basin and pitcher stood beneath. It was entirely unfamiliar and unexpected and nearly as surprising as the sudden slide of skin against the bare flesh of his leg.
Shanks cautiously turned his head, prior youthful misadventures crowding the back of his mind, and let out a small sigh of relief when he was presented with familiar dark hair and the slack features of his sleeping first mate. At least, even if he wasn’t aboard his ship, couldn’t have been for the ever-present sensation and whisper of water was missing, he was in the right company. The cheerful gingham curtains and the view of the harbor he could see out of the room’s lone window, as well as the general cleanliness, bespoke a female hand, Makino’s if he had to guess. Although why they were sharing a bed in the tavern mistress’ home remained a mystery for the moment.
Ben, however, was customary except that he was usually long gone from Shanks’ side, an early riser with a habit of sharing his first cigarette of the day with the sunrise. It was a pleasant change and Shanks intended to take full advantage of it while he had the chance. He shifted, rolled to his left, and…froze.
Memories, knowledge, came flooding back and Shanks could only marvel that he’d forgotten even if for just a few moments. The initial lack of pain was almost as shocking as the bolt of fire that had lanced through him when he moved but not nearly as stunning as the absence itself. His body knew, insisted that all he had to do to turn over was apply some leverage with his elbow or his hand. But..Shanks drew in a deep breath, another. It was too early for this; the strength that had carried him through his days thus far somehow missing. He didn’t know whether to laugh at himself or curse or cry. He just needed…
He shook his head and sucked in more air, let it back out again with an unwanted sound for a passenger that he couldn’t quite swallow down. The choked exhalation was enough to rouse Ben and Shanks watched as his first mate went rigid, eyes flying open and hands reaching for him before they paused, took note of the fact that Shanks was awake. It made him wonder how many times he’d cried out in his sleep, how much rest Ben was truly getting despite his constant avers that the dark sunken circles under his eyes weren’t any bigger.
“Shanks.” The single word, just his name, was quiet, careful, probing. Shanks breathed in, breathed out, and dredged up a small smile that only made Ben frown.
“I’m alright. Just…surprised. We at Makino’s?”
“Aye.” The frown deepened and Ben finally slid an arm around Shanks’ waist. “Last night was our send-off. We sail with the eventide.”
“Ah.” He remembered now, most of it. Luffy, sniffling for half the night and trying so hard not to cry any more; Makino’s voice tremulous as she passed out the rounds; the mayor paying his respects rather than trying to chase him out of town. They’d stayed too long and for one of the first times in his life Shanks found a part of himself somewhat reluctant to leave.
“You fell asleep soon after they finally put Luffy to bed. And then Makino offered so I carried you up here.” The concern was there, tinged with affection, and Shanks found he didn’t have to dig as deeply inside himself to smile this time.
“And stayed yourself.”
Ben leaned in, close enough that ribs scraped lightly across the remains of his arm, and Shanks reveled in the feeling, in the fact that he could feel, even as his eyes closed in anticipation. Lips brushed the scars at his temple, found the tip of his nose, moved fleetingly across his lips.
“Idiot,” Ben said fondly as he drew back, sat up to lean against the headboard and reach for his cigarettes. “You ready to go?”
Back to the sea, to the Grand Line and all its challenges, its wonders. Shanks wriggled upright, caught the edge of the quilt as it threatened to fall off the bed, reached over to steal a drag. Smoke vanished as it curled towards the ceiling, lost to the crisp neatness of the room. The only mess lay in the corner, a pile of clothing and weapons and his hat. He would miss Makino, her hospitality and warmth and sweet nature. He would miss the people, friendly and simple and generally kind. And he would miss Luffy but, an idea forming, perhaps they would meet again. Shanks let Ben steal his cigarette back, stretched his arm above his head until his spine popped and he had to grab the nightstand to keep from tipping over unexpectedly. He could feel Ben watching and this time he could laugh for real. There was so much to do and he had just his lifetime to try and accomplish it all.
“Aye. I’m ready.”
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 936
A/N: First of three 'desire' pieces
Consciousness trickled in, warmth first and then noise as quiet susurrations filled his ear, puffed softly against his neck. Awareness followed, true awareness as Shanks broke through the surface of sleep to wakefulness, and he lay still, eyelids remaining closed as he waited for the stab of pain in his temples that had a tendency to greet him in the mornings. But when only the slightest ache, probably from dehydration, echoed through his skull, he grinned and slowly opened his eyes. A white wall and a picture of sunflowers met his gaze; a low chest of drawers topped with a basin and pitcher stood beneath. It was entirely unfamiliar and unexpected and nearly as surprising as the sudden slide of skin against the bare flesh of his leg.
Shanks cautiously turned his head, prior youthful misadventures crowding the back of his mind, and let out a small sigh of relief when he was presented with familiar dark hair and the slack features of his sleeping first mate. At least, even if he wasn’t aboard his ship, couldn’t have been for the ever-present sensation and whisper of water was missing, he was in the right company. The cheerful gingham curtains and the view of the harbor he could see out of the room’s lone window, as well as the general cleanliness, bespoke a female hand, Makino’s if he had to guess. Although why they were sharing a bed in the tavern mistress’ home remained a mystery for the moment.
Ben, however, was customary except that he was usually long gone from Shanks’ side, an early riser with a habit of sharing his first cigarette of the day with the sunrise. It was a pleasant change and Shanks intended to take full advantage of it while he had the chance. He shifted, rolled to his left, and…froze.
Memories, knowledge, came flooding back and Shanks could only marvel that he’d forgotten even if for just a few moments. The initial lack of pain was almost as shocking as the bolt of fire that had lanced through him when he moved but not nearly as stunning as the absence itself. His body knew, insisted that all he had to do to turn over was apply some leverage with his elbow or his hand. But..Shanks drew in a deep breath, another. It was too early for this; the strength that had carried him through his days thus far somehow missing. He didn’t know whether to laugh at himself or curse or cry. He just needed…
He shook his head and sucked in more air, let it back out again with an unwanted sound for a passenger that he couldn’t quite swallow down. The choked exhalation was enough to rouse Ben and Shanks watched as his first mate went rigid, eyes flying open and hands reaching for him before they paused, took note of the fact that Shanks was awake. It made him wonder how many times he’d cried out in his sleep, how much rest Ben was truly getting despite his constant avers that the dark sunken circles under his eyes weren’t any bigger.
“Shanks.” The single word, just his name, was quiet, careful, probing. Shanks breathed in, breathed out, and dredged up a small smile that only made Ben frown.
“I’m alright. Just…surprised. We at Makino’s?”
“Aye.” The frown deepened and Ben finally slid an arm around Shanks’ waist. “Last night was our send-off. We sail with the eventide.”
“Ah.” He remembered now, most of it. Luffy, sniffling for half the night and trying so hard not to cry any more; Makino’s voice tremulous as she passed out the rounds; the mayor paying his respects rather than trying to chase him out of town. They’d stayed too long and for one of the first times in his life Shanks found a part of himself somewhat reluctant to leave.
“You fell asleep soon after they finally put Luffy to bed. And then Makino offered so I carried you up here.” The concern was there, tinged with affection, and Shanks found he didn’t have to dig as deeply inside himself to smile this time.
“And stayed yourself.”
Ben leaned in, close enough that ribs scraped lightly across the remains of his arm, and Shanks reveled in the feeling, in the fact that he could feel, even as his eyes closed in anticipation. Lips brushed the scars at his temple, found the tip of his nose, moved fleetingly across his lips.
“Idiot,” Ben said fondly as he drew back, sat up to lean against the headboard and reach for his cigarettes. “You ready to go?”
Back to the sea, to the Grand Line and all its challenges, its wonders. Shanks wriggled upright, caught the edge of the quilt as it threatened to fall off the bed, reached over to steal a drag. Smoke vanished as it curled towards the ceiling, lost to the crisp neatness of the room. The only mess lay in the corner, a pile of clothing and weapons and his hat. He would miss Makino, her hospitality and warmth and sweet nature. He would miss the people, friendly and simple and generally kind. And he would miss Luffy but, an idea forming, perhaps they would meet again. Shanks let Ben steal his cigarette back, stretched his arm above his head until his spine popped and he had to grab the nightstand to keep from tipping over unexpectedly. He could feel Ben watching and this time he could laugh for real. There was so much to do and he had just his lifetime to try and accomplish it all.
“Aye. I’m ready.”
