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So it had ended up on punching and kicking once again, huh?
Their swords had been discarded long ago and now Mihawk and Shanks were at each other’s throats using only their fists to beat each other’s ass, but none seemed to be getting the upper hand at the matter. Shanks knew this was all a ruse to get to touch Mihawk in some way or another, and he knew Mihawk knew it too.
It was the weirdest form of longing, a pathetic form of pinning for the man who wanted him dead the most out of all the enemies he had in the world. Mihawk wasn’t an evil pirate in search of treasure or territories, he simply wanted to prove he was the very best at the thing he was the very best at, and at the moment, Shanks was standing in the way of it. He wondered, though, why if he wanted to become the Greatest Swordsman in the World, had he dropped his weapon and was now straddling him, punching him over and over until Shanks came back to consciousness and held him by the shoulders, pushing him down to the ground and punching him back.
“Damn it, Hawk Eyes, this is getting out of hand!” Shanks screamed, grabbing him by the shirt the minute he drew blood from the other boy’s brow. He had a black eye and a split lip, but he still smiled mischievously and held Shanks by the hair and pulled him to the ground, smashing his head against the cobblestones.
“You could always yield.” Mihawk said coldly. He held one of Shanks’ arms and pinned it behind his back, pulling from it until Shanks hissed of pain.
“Never!” He said, forcing himself up from the ground with Mihawk still on his back.
He crushed the older teen with his full weight as he turned and choking him with his forearm. He knew the consequences of subduing Mihawk by the neck and received the expected moan in return, but he wasn’t going to let himself be distracted by it. The raven haired man smiled again and stretched both arms, trailing his fingers through Shanks’ crimson hair. The man who would one day become an Emperor of the Sea stuttered and flushed, thinking Mihawk was going to force him down into a kiss, but instead, he grabbed a fistful of hair and butted his forehead against his.
The bastard had also used armament Haki and made Shanks see stars as a result. Mihawk also looked hurt. He was no master of any form of Haki yet and he’d not been mentored by the very best at it like Shanks was, but he was surely making enormous improvements from the last time he’d fought him.
“OUCH!” Shanks cried, letting go and shoving himself off of the older boy, who jumped back into action and struck at his head with one swift kick, but Shanks avoided it and dodged to grab his sword. “Not fair!”
“There is no fairness when it comes to killing each other, you idiot Redhead.” He said, bloodlust clear in his eyes as he dragged his sword from the ground and took it with both hands. Mihawk trailed his tongue over his teeth, as if already tasting Shanks’ blood in his mouth. He was growing more desperate to hurt each time, and Shanks could only assume this was his way of showing he wanted him too.
“I. DON’T. WANT. TO. KILL. YOU!” Shanks said, pausing between each word with a pause. “Tell me again why can’t we be friends?”
“I have no friends.”
“I’m sure you would, if it weren’t for that mean attitude of yours.” He said, charging at Mihawk with Gryphon at hand and making it clash against Yoru. The moment the blade made contact with Shanks’, it got coated in Haki and turned completely black as the night, its namesake.
“I need none.”
“I’m sure you don’t want to be alone.” He said, swinging the sword and pushing him off with as much strength as he could muster. Mihawk, however, bounced back and aimed at his neck. Their blades clashed again and the recoil sent both of their swords flying backwards, but not enough to push them off of their hands.
“Could you please shut up? You’re annoying.”
“Why don’t you come here and shut me up, Hawk Boy?”
The young swordsman grinned the most malevolent smile Shanks had ever had the horror to witness.
“Are you sure you want me to do that, Red Hair? Don’t ask for things you will regret.”
“You might as well do, you know you’ll get your ass whipped the minute you try.”
And at that, Shanks knew he should have kept his mouth shut.
Mihawk twisted his sword downwards, dragging Gryphon along to create an opening and he seized Shanks mouth on his own. It was not a gentle kiss. In fact, Shanks could not tell if it was a kiss at all. Mihawk bit him hard, and it was not pleasurable at all. When Shanks tried to pull away, the swordsman had him trapped, because he wasn’t willing to release him. He doubted if he should strike him with Gryphon or if he should try to pull away, but the pain wasn’t letting him think straight and he was too late to react.
Mihawk released his lips before he could make a decision and bit him once again, relentlessly and violently still. This time, he sunk his teeth at his throat, drawing blood. He bit again and again, bruising the young boy’s skin with his aggression. More than a teasing foreplay, this looked more like an angry beast attempting to maul its prey to death. For a second, Shanks was scared this was actually the case. He knew that if he pushed Mihawk away, he would not hesitate to take a chunk of his flesh with him and Shanks would probably bleed to death. He also didn’t want to coat himself in Haki to break off the fight, because it could mean hurting his friend badly if his mouth was already perched at his skin.
It was as if he’d read his mind, because Mihawk held him firmly by the waist, knocked his sword form his hand and bit into his shoulder with his teeth covered in armament Haki. The pain made Shanks go blind for a few seconds, but suddenly it had become slightly more tolerable than before. He noticed then that his teeth were no longer buried deep in his flesh, but instead they were grazing and nibbling at his sensitive and sore skin, where blood had swelled underneath and was already covered in blue and black bruises. Shanks gasped, initially in fear as he assumed Mihawk was about to sink his teeth violently into his collarbone, but instead the swordsman released his own sword and tugged at his shirt, revealing his tanned skin and bitting down softly at the crook of his neck.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“You told me to shut you up. I’m still waiting for you to whip my ass, though.”
“Damn it, you bastard.” Shanks said, still wondering if he should punch him or let Mihawk keep on trailing bites down his chest.
His swift hands were unbuttoning his shirt with ease, tearing away at the fabric and revealing more and more skin for him to devour. He pulled from the shirt and slowly revealed Shanks’ hurt and sensitive shoulders, letting the cloth hang loose around his arms.
“Should I stop?”
“It’s funny, this is the very first time you’ve ever asked me that.” He said with a growl as Mihawk bit down at the upper part of his bicep.
“So?”
“Nah. Don’t.”
Mihawk climbed back and took his lips, though this time it was not a relentless bite, but more of a forceful, violent kiss. Half undressed, Shanks clung to his rival’s arms and kissed and bit him back. The older teen groaned, surrounding Shanks’ lean but already muscular body with his arms and lifting him slightly from the ground. In those years, Mihawk was still significantly taller than the man who would one day become his lover for over a decade. Shanks surrounded his hips with his legs and whimpered when Mihawk slammed his back against a wall. He released his lips and went down again to kiss and bite at his neck, his chest, at the thin and pronounced line of his abs, earning sweet moans from Shanks whenever his teeth sank into sensitive skin.
“Stop… stop…” Shanks muttered as he felt the older boy’s lips trail down his navel, his hands grabbing firmly at the hem of his trousers. “That… Not yet… not yet…”
“Fine.” He said, trailing his kisses back up where he came from. “Just so you know, when you’re ready, I will not be gentle.”
“I don’t expect you to be.”
Shanks was amazed that, for having a murderous aura about him and almost killing him every time they met, Mihawk had a very strong moral code when it came to consent. Surely killing and biting him to death was bad, but forcing his desire on him was where Mihawk drew the line. Shanks like that, though.
“Can we call this victory mine, then?”
“Fuck you, Hawk Eyes.”
“Likewise, Red Head.”