One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ The 'L' Word ❯ Chapter 1

Title: "The 'L' Word"

Fandom: One Piece

Word Count: 1,473
Pairing: Ben x Shanks
Rating: PG-13 / R (see warnings)
Warnings: Some violence (Shanks sheds that unbearable calm long enough to display a typical red-headed temper, here.), implied sexual relations between men. (yaoi)
Permission to archive: http://www.livejournal.com/users/onepieceyaoi (others: Email me, and we'll talk)

Author's notes:

Okay, yeah. You know you're getting really obsessed with a fandom when you start having dreams...

God damnit. I'm in trouble. This hasn't happened in awhile, and I think my Trigun fandom's getting totally debased here. But I get some nice writing out of it, anyway.

I didn't figure I'd be able to get my hands around the character dynamic very well, but I think I did an okay job. Once I started writing, it just sort of flowed, aside from a couple forced breaks in the writing, which, hopefully, aren't too terribly noticeable.

-k. (03.22.04)

---------

"Shanks, let's play a little game," Ben teased. He had Shanks' good arm pinned securely above his head. Neither were clothed.

"Oh? What's that?" Shanks looked mildly interested.

"You try to be as quiet as you can, Captain."

Shanks scowled. "That doesn't sound like fun."

He squirmed under Ben's grip, but with his first captain's full weight on that one arm, Shanks leverage was nearly non-existent. He certainly wasn't getting very far. Captain or not, Ben definitely had the upper hand in their relationship, and Shanks knew it.

"Why'dyou care all of a sudden, anyway?"

"That's not exactly the case, here." Ben frowned slightly, dark eyes locked on shanks' own intense blue. "The thing is...maybe you shouldn't rub your good fortune in everyone's face so regularly."

Shanks' scowl deepened.

"I'll do what I like. It's my ship. I'm the captain. I make the rules, and anyone who doesn't like it can walk!"

He could be such a spoiled child sometimes.

I'm not saying..." Ben sighed, trailing off. This sort of response wasn't going to get him anywhere but into a full-blown argument where Shanks sat around and staunchly defended his authority, and his right to do...whatever the hell it was he decided he wanted to do.

Time to get to the real truth.

"Okay, look. Maybe I'm the one who wants to stop rubbing their good fortune in everyone's face."

Shanks raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"A lot of this crew..." Ben paused, choosing his words carefully. "Shanks, you're a well respected man, and rightly so."

Pause again.

This wasn't getting anywhere very quickly. Ben wondered what the hell his problem was, and why he was having such a difficult time wording things. Wasn't he supposed to be good with words? Shanks was the only one who could rattle him like this.

"I'm not the only one on this ship who loves you, Captain."

Shanks kept an even expression, determined not to react to Ben's words. It wasn't as though they surprised him; he knew his power stemmed from his personality and confidence. People liked him, and that made them want to listen to him.

"I know you're not doing this with anyone else on this ship. I'd know if you were."

Shanks quirked an eyebrow, and smirked in amusement.

"People get unpredictable when they're jealous, Shanks. I don't want anything to go wrong..."

"Tch. You're overreacting."

Oh, this wasn't going to go well, Ben decided, from the tone of Shank's voice.

"You're right. I'm not doing this with anyone else on this ship. I'm not interested in doing this with anyone else on this ship. In fact, I'm losing interest in doing this with anyone else, period."

Ben's eyes widened. He fought the pleased smile that threatened to follow his shock. Shanks wasn't finished, and now wasn't the time.

"I trust my men, and I respect them. We look out for each other. Without that, I'd have to be a tyrant like Don Krieg to get anyone to listen to me. Or face mutiny. It's always a risk. I understand my risks, Ben." Shanks paused, smiling wanly. "And, Ben...,"

"Yeah?"

Shanks pulled his arm free with one swift tug while Ben was distracted. He leaned up covering Ben's mouth with his own, arm behind him for support. His tongue pressed insistently against Ben's closed lips. Ben opened his mouth and Shanks' tongue swept the interior. Hungry. Consuming.

"Don't use the "L" word," he whispered into Ben's mouth.

The kiss stopped abruptly. Ben pulled back, staring at Shanks, eyes intensely fixated on the face of the supine man beneath him.

"Shanks..."

Shanks lay back, freeing his arm from its burden. He raised it, bringing a single finger to cover Ben's lips.

"Don't."

Ben smiled beneath the finger, lips moving against the sensitive skin of Shanks' fingertip. The blue eyes closed and Shanks made a low sound in his throat as Ben's mouth opened and then closed around his index finger.

Ben released Shanks' finger after a few moments, having used the time to carefully organize what he wanted to say next.

"Shanks...Your men do trust you. I trust you. I'm not the only one who cares for you like I do, though, so you can deny it all you want, but I won't.

Shanks' eyes opened slowly at Ben's words, gaze hard-edged, blue eyes fringed with an icy look.

"I love you, Shanks. I'm in love with you, and I'll say it if I want."

Shanks arm shot up, fingers gripping Ben's throat tightly.

"I am the captain here. You will not disobey a direct order." His voice was oddly calm, as Ben's lungs slowly began to protest the lack of air. Shanks pushed him back, working himself into a sitting position, while still keeping his hold on Ben's throat.

The minutes seemed to creep past, as a sadistic grin crawled across Shanks' face.

"Would you dare to disobey a direct order from your captain, Ben?" Shanks' cruel smile drove Ben's rank home without the words ever actually having to be spoken. Ben closed his eyes, a clear indication of resignation, and waited, forcing down the panic that tried to surface and keeping a clam exterior.

Shanks released him with a hard shove.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," he growled.

Ben didn't respond. He had already gotten back enough of his bearings to know that he didn't want to stay, anyway, with Shanks' mood shift, and was already pulling on his pants. He didn't bother with the fastening at the top, and shrugged into a shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. Walking toward the desk against the far wall of Shanks' cabin, he turned to look at his captain.

Still completely nude, Shanks lay in a defiant position on his stomach, back purposefully turned to Ben. It reminded him oddly of a small child after not getting his way, and Ben smiled softly, watching him for a few more seconds.

He turned away, surveying the contents of the desk. A hardcover book with signs of wear at the edges lay on the corner of the desk. Nearby, a few stray cigarettes, a book of matches, and an oil lamp, were present, among the chaos of cartography maps and a worn leather-bound journal that read "log" in a scripted writing across the cover. Ben was certain that if Shanks noticed the cigarettes missing, he'd get over it soon enough, and find more. He pocketed them as he slipped his book under one arm, as he headed for the door.

He picked up his gun from the wall, and slung it casually over his shoulder.

"Come find me when you've calmed down," he said to Shanks' displayed back, in a calm voice as he reached for the door. Shanks still didn't look up at him.

Ben opened the door, passed through it, and paused on the other side.

"Aishiteru, Sencho," he whispered quietly, soft smile still present on his face, as he pulled the door closed behind him.

No sooner did it shut, when he heard something shatter against it.

"Another lamp, Shanks? Good thing you've got two." Ben whispered quietly, chuckling to himself. A clear indication that this wasn't the first time Shanks had shown a temper like this in his presence. After all, they'd known each other for several years.

Loud cursing and banging sounded from inside the cabin as Ben seated himself outside of it, leaning his gun against the wall next to him and opening his book. A young pirate came hurriedly down the passageway, a concerned look on his face, his destination, clearly Shanks' chambers.

Ben, not lifting his eyes from the page, took his gun in one hand, and extended it across the doorway.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you. Not if you value your life."

The young man stammered, fidgeting.

"B..but...the captain...is Shanks-sama alright?"

Ben looked at the younger man over his book.

"Yes, fine. You've not been on this ship long, have you?"

The boy shook his head nearly violently enough to send it flying from his shoulders, Ben thought absently.

"N...n...no Sir!"

"Thought not." Ben inclined his head toward the door, eyes drifting back to the hardbound book in his hand. "You'll get used to his outburst soon enough." Turning a page casually, he added, "though he's usually quite calm."

The young pirate nodded furiously, and stood there, awkwardly for several moments before he abruptly ran off, looking as though he'd just remembered something important that he was supposed to have done that he had forgotten.

Ben returned his gun to its former position against the wall, and, lighting a cigarette, brought his focus back to his book. Surely this wasn't the last of this subject between Shanks and himself, but better to let it go for now, if he could.

-k.

"Shanks, let's play a little game," Ben teased. He had Shanks' good arm pinned securely above his head. Neither were clothed.

"Oh? What's that?" Shanks looked mildly interested.

"You try to be as quiet as you can, Captain."

Shanks scowled. "That doesn't sound like fun."

He squirmed under Ben's grip, but with his first captain's full weight on that one arm, Shanks leverage was nearly non-existent. He certainly wasn't getting very far. Captain or not, Ben definitely had the upper hand in their relationship, and Shanks knew it.

"Why'dyou care all of a sudden, anyway?"

"That's not exactly the case, here." Ben frowned slightly, dark eyes locked on shanks' own intense blue. "The thing is...maybe you shouldn't rub your good fortune in everyone's face so regularly."

Shanks' scowl deepened.

"I'll do what I like. It's my ship. I'm the captain. I make the rules, and anyone who doesn't like it can walk!"

He could be such a spoiled child sometimes.

I'm not saying..." Ben sighed, trailing off. This sort of response wasn't going to get him anywhere but into a full-blown argument where Shanks sat around and staunchly defended his authority, and his right to do...whatever the hell it was he decided he wanted to do.

Time to get to the real truth.

"Okay, look. Maybe I'm the one who wants to stop rubbing their good fortune in everyone's face."

Shanks raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"A lot of this crew..." Ben paused, choosing his words carefully. "Shanks, you're a well respected man, and rightly so."

Pause again.

This wasn't getting anywhere very quickly. Ben wondered what the hell his problem was, and why he was having such a difficult time wording things. Wasn't he supposed to be good with words? Shanks was the only one who could rattle him like this.

"I'm not the only one on this ship who loves you, Captain."

Shanks kept an even expression, determined not to react to Ben's words. It wasn't as though they surprised him; he knew his power stemmed from his personality and confidence. People liked him, and that made them want to listen to him.

"I know you're not doing this with anyone else on this ship. I'd know if you were."

Shanks quirked an eyebrow, and smirked in amusement.

"People get unpredictable when they're jealous, Shanks. I don't want anything to go wrong..."

"Tch. You're overreacting."

Oh, this wasn't going to go well, Ben decided, from the tone of Shank's voice.

"You're right. I'm not doing this with anyone else on this ship. I'm not interested in doing this with anyone else on this ship. In fact, I'm losing interest in doing this with anyone else, period."

Ben's eyes widened. He fought the pleased smile that threatened to follow his shock. Shanks wasn't finished, and now wasn't the time.

"I trust my men, and I respect them. We look out for each other. Without that, I'd have to be a tyrant like Don Krieg to get anyone to listen to me. Or face mutiny. It's always a risk. I understand my risks, Ben." Shanks paused, smiling wanly. "And, Ben...,"

"Yeah?"

Shanks pulled his arm free with one swift tug while Ben was distracted. He leaned up covering Ben's mouth with his own, arm behind him for support. His tongue pressed insistently against Ben's closed lips. Ben opened his mouth and Shanks' tongue swept the interior. Hungry. Consuming.

"Don't use the "L" word," he whispered into Ben's mouth.

The kiss stopped abruptly. Ben pulled back, staring at Shanks, eyes intensely fixated on the face of the supine man beneath him.

"Shanks..."

Shanks lay back, freeing his arm from its burden. He raised it, bringing a single finger to cover Ben's lips.

"Don't."

Ben smiled beneath the finger, lips moving against the sensitive skin of Shanks' fingertip. The blue eyes closed and Shanks made a low sound in his throat as Ben's mouth opened and then closed around his index finger.

Ben released Shanks' finger after a few moments, having used the time to carefully organize what he wanted to say next.

"Shanks...Your men do trust you. I trust you. I'm not the only one who cares for you like I do, though, so you can deny it all you want, but I won't.

Shanks' eyes opened slowly at Ben's words, gaze hard-edged, blue eyes fringed with an icy look.

"I love you, Shanks. I'm in love with you, and I'll say it if I want."

Shanks arm shot up, fingers gripping Ben's throat tightly.

"I am the captain here. You will not disobey a direct order." His voice was oddly calm, as Ben's lungs slowly began to protest the lack of air. Shanks pushed him back, working himself into a sitting position, while still keeping his hold on Ben's throat.

The minutes seemed to creep past, as a sadistic grin crawled across Shanks' face.

"Would you dare to disobey a direct order from your captain, Ben?" Shanks' cruel smile drove Ben's rank home without the words ever actually having to be spoken. Ben closed his eyes, a clear indication of resignation, and waited, forcing down the panic that tried to surface and keeping a clam exterior.

Shanks released him with a hard shove.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," he growled.

Ben didn't respond. He had already gotten back enough of his bearings to know that he didn't want to stay, anyway, with Shanks' mood shift, and was already pulling on his pants. He didn't bother with the fastening at the top, and shrugged into a shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. Walking toward the desk against the far wall of Shanks' cabin, he turned to look at his captain.

Still completely nude, Shanks lay in a defiant position on his stomach, back purposefully turned to Ben. It reminded him oddly of a small child after not getting his way, and Ben smiled softly, watching him for a few more seconds.

He turned away, surveying the contents of the desk. A hardcover book with signs of wear at the edges lay on the corner of the desk. Nearby, a few stray cigarettes, a book of matches, and an oil lamp, were present, among the chaos of cartography maps and a worn leather-bound journal that read "log" in a scripted writing across the cover. Ben was certain that if Shanks noticed the cigarettes missing, he'd get over it soon enough, and find more. He pocketed them as he slipped his book under one arm, as he headed for the door.

He picked up his gun from the wall, and slung it casually over his shoulder.

"Come find me when you've calmed down," he said to Shanks' displayed back, in a calm voice as he reached for the door. Shanks still didn't look up at him.

Ben opened the door, passed through it, and paused on the other side.

"Aishiteru, Sencho," he whispered quietly, soft smile still present on his face, as he pulled the door closed behind him.

No sooner did it shut, when he heard something shatter against it.

"Another lamp, Shanks? Good thing you've got two." Ben whispered quietly, chuckling to himself. A clear indication that this wasn't the first time Shanks had shown a temper like this in his presence. After all, they'd known each other for several years.

Loud cursing and banging sounded from inside the cabin as Ben seated himself outside of it, leaning his gun against the wall next to him and opening his book. A young pirate came hurriedly down the passageway, a concerned look on his face, his destination, clearly Shanks' chambers.

Ben, not lifting his eyes from the page, took his gun in one hand, and extended it across the doorway.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you. Not if you value your life."

The young man stammered, fidgeting.

"B..but...the captain...is Shanks alright?"

Ben looked at the younger man over his book.

"Yes, fine. You've not been on this ship long, have you?"

The boy shook his head nearly violently enough to send it flying from his shoulders, Ben thought absently.

"N...n...no Sir!"

"Thought not." Ben inclined his head toward the door, eyes drifting back to the hardbound book in his hand. "You'll get used to his outburst soon enough." Turning a page casually, he added, "though he's usually quite calm."

The young pirate nodded furiously, and stood there, awkwardly for several moments before he abruptly ran off, looking as though he'd just remembered something important that he was supposed to have done that he had forgotten.

Ben returned his gun to its former position against the wall, and, lighting a cigarette, brought his focus back to his book. Surely this wasn't the last of this subject between Shanks and himself, but better to let it go for now, if he could.

-k.