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The ship rocked slowly, cradling the sounds of the crew, Rayleigh's distant shouts for someone, and the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the hull. Buggy tried, for the tenth time, to retie the knot in the mainmast, irritated by the wind, the rope, and especially the idiot leaning on his side, chattering nonstop.
"...and then I told him it wasn't stealing if I gave it back later, right? But Ray got that "you're a lost cause" look on his face, but in the end—
"Shanks. Shut up." Buggy tightened his grip on the knot, not looking at him.
Shanks made a small chuckling noise.
"You look cute when you're angry."
Buggy froze. The knot slipped from his hand, the rope whipping through the air.
"What?"
"Nothing." Shanks leaned against the mast, smiling. "I'm just saying things to make you blush."
Buggy opened his mouth to shout something, but the sound died away. Because he knew he was blushing.
"You're insufferable," he said finally, turning his face away.
"I know." Shanks brushed his shoulder against his. Lightly. On purpose.
Buggy didn't move.
"Are you going to get in my way or help?"
"Can I hold your hand to help?"
"TRY and I'll rip it away."
Shanks laughed, and the sound was warm, like the afternoon sun beating down on them both.
"Okay... then I'll just stay here. Total silence. I promise."
Silence. Long.
So long that Buggy began to think it truly had been a miracle. Shanks being silent was almost a celestial event. But when he turned slightly to check, Shanks was already looking at him. Quiet. With his eyes fixed on him. Calm. And a very small, almost shy smile on his lips.
"What now?" Buggy muttered.
Shanks just shrugged.
"Nothing. It's just... you look cute when you shut up, too."
Buggy turned so red he looked feverish.
"You're kidding me, right?"
Shanks shook his head.
"Not this time."
And before Buggy could decide whether to kick him into the sea or turn away completely, he felt Shanks's hand touch his. Lightly. Brushing unintentionally, but staying there.
"It's hot today, isn't it?" Shanks said, his voice low. "Or is it just me?"
Buggy pressed his lips together. His heart was beating much faster than necessary to climb the rope.
He could pull his hand away.
He could yell, he could tell him to go pick up shells at the bottom of the ocean.
But he didn't.
And when the wind blew harder, forcing them both to lean in the same direction, Buggy turned his face without thinking. Enough so that their foreheads almost touched. Enough to see Shanks's long eyelashes fluttering.
"You're an idiot."
"You've said that seventeen times today alone."
"It's still not enough."
Shanks smiled.
"Then shut me up."
Buggy didn't answer.
He just stared for a second longer—and leaned in.
The kiss was quick, awkward, almost like a rush of courage. But the warmth that lingered on his lips was real. And the way Shanks cupped his face afterward, his hands trembling and his eyes wide, said everything neither of them had said until now.
"...Wow," Shanks whispered.
Buggy stared at him for a second.
"Shut up, Shanks."
But this time, he spoke without any anger.
And Shanks obeyed.
With another kiss.