Chapter 15
Donquixote Doflamingo was currently staring unabashed at Crocodile.
Because A) The man’s fucking sexy, B) he’s getting bored of this warlord meeting, C) The man’s fucking sexy, D) and the way the man is just… existing is practically begging to be stared at, Doflamingo couldn’t peel his eyes away from Crocodile even if he wanted to.
Now get him straight, it’s not unusual for Crocodile to come to a warlord meeting dressed to the nines, Crocodile’s one out of three that do that, the other two being Dracule Mihawk and Boa Hancock, but everyone knows, everyone in the goddamn world knows that Crocodile is the king of the fashion police of the Grand Line.
And right now, on repeat in Doflamingo’s head that song ‘did I mistake you for a siren god’ is playing on loop as he just… stairs at Crocodile.
Cause this man! Lord, this man is fucking sexy!
Crocodile is currently leaning back in his chair, with One of his legs out stretched, a cigar loosely hanging from his lips as the smoke lazily drifts from his slightly parted lips, and around his head as he listens to Fleet Admiral Sengoku drone on about something. Crocodile dressed in a silk black button up, an emerald green male corset that cinch is his waist sexally. The male corset had darker shiny designs to look like crocodile scales, flared black dress pants, heeled black crocodile skin dress shoes. He had a black tie on that looked like it was made out of real black alligator skin. And a alligator skin belt with a quite large pure gold crocodile shaped belt buckle, with emeralds as the crocodiles’s eyes. He had a shit ton of jewelry, Gold, silver, Diamond, and jeweled rings, bracelets, necklaces, every goddamn piercing you could get in your ears, both side of his nostrils were double pierced, and he had a septum piercing, he had 1 inch stretched ears, and Chunk Snakebite piercings made out of gold, he had angel fangs piercing, Two matching Monroe piercings beside the angel fangs, surface under his right eye and dermal under the left eye, dimple piercings, and Golden and diamond studded fang grills. And Crocodile had make up on, he didn’t just have on make up he had on messy make, a deep sparkling Emerald green eyeshadow was under his bottom lash line that faded into black that went around his eyes like eyeliner, With a bit of smudged and messy eyeliner and pointed bottom lashes. And to finish the look he had on a open long fur coat that made him look like a sultry devil that could melt your underwear off with a single look.
The tension in the room is palpable as Doflamingo's eyes devour every inch of Crocodile's form, unable to look away. Crocodile’s gaze, however, remained fixed on the fleet admiral, seemingly oblivious to the intense stare he was receiving.
Bartholomew Kuma, sitting to Crocodile's left, notices the unwavering attention and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. He leans in slightly and whispers in Crocodile's ear, "Seems like you've got an admirer." Crocodile's only response is a low, amused rumble, his smoky eyes flickering over to meet Doflamingo's before returning to the fleet admiral. “Seems like I do, Kuma.” He murmured back.
Jinbe, who had been quietly sipping his tea, spits it out in surprise when he sees the look Doflamingo is giving Crocodile. He quickly wipes his mouth and coughs, trying to cover up his reaction. Dracule Mihawk, ever the stoic one, glances over with a hint of amusement in his eyes but says nothing. Boa Hancock, on the other hand, rolls her eyes dramatically. "Doflamingo, really?" She whispers under her breath. "Can't you keep it in your pants for five minutes?"
Doflamingo's cheeks flush a dark shade of magenta as he realizes everyone's noticed. He clears his throat and tries to compose himself, sitting up straighter in his chair. "What? Can't a man appreciate fine art when he sees it?" He quips back at Hancock, his voice a mix of defiance and embarrassment.
The room falls into a tense silence for a moment before Crocodile decides to break it, his deep voice rumbling like a distant thunderstorm. "Ah, Doflamingo," he says without turning his head, "You should save your flattery for someone who cares." His words are light, but there's a clear edge to them that sends a shiver down everyone's spine.
Doflamingo's eyes narrow slightly, his pride stung by the rejection, but he recovers quickly with a laugh that's too loud and a little forced. "Crocodile, darling, I'm just admiring the view. Can you blame me?" He waves a hand dismissively, trying to play it off as if he's not affected by the desert king's words.
That actually cause Mihawk to chuckle lightly, a rare sound that echoes through the tense air of the room. “Oh, yes. Darling Crow, he’s quite a site to behold, isn’t he?” He says, his eyes on Crocodile, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Crocodile rolls his eyes. “كما تعلم، إذا كان أي شخص آخر يناديني بـ "كرو"، فسوف أقطع لسانه. اعتبر نفسك محظوظا أيها الصقر الوغد.” He says in Arabic, which the only other person in the room that understands him is Mihawk as he flicks some of the ashes of his cigar at Mihawk.
Mihawk raises an eyebrow, "Careful with that fire, Croc." He says in English, his eyes still smiling, his tone still playful.
The fleet admiral coughs, trying to bring the meeting back on track. "Warlords, let's remember why we are here," Sengoku says sternly, eyeing Doflamingo over the rim of his glasses.
Doflamingo's gaze snaps away from Crocodile, but not before sending a glare at Mihawk for egging him on. "Of course, Fleet Admiral," he responds, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. He folds his hands in his lap, his long fingers drumming a silent tune against his thigh.
The meeting drags on, with Sengoku outlining the latest pirate activity and the need for increased cooperation among the warlords. Crocodile nods along, his expression unreadable, as he absently twirls the cigar in his hand. The air in the room feels thick with unspoken words and hidden desires.
Doflamingo's eyes dart back to Crocodile every few minutes, drawn to the sultry sway of his tie and the way the light catches on the gold in his grin. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to have Crocodile's attention focused solely on him, to hear that deep, accented voice whisper sweet nothings in his ear. The thought sends a thrill down his spine, and he has to clench his fists to keep from visibly squirming in his seat.
Crocodile, for his part, seems to be growing increasingly aware of the glances thrown his way. His posture shifts slightly, his hand tightening around the cigar as he leans in to hear the fleet admiral better. The scent of his expensive cologne wafts through the air, a seductive blend of blood oranges, sandalwood, and musk that only serves to fuel Doflamingo's infatuation.
Finally after what felt like an eternity the meeting was over and the Warlords began to stand, stretching their legs and collecting their thoughts. Crocodile stood up with a smooth grace that had Doflamingo's heart racing, the fur coat fluttering around him like a dark angel's wings. Doflamingo's eyes followed him as he sauntered out of the room, leaving a trail of smoke and mystery in his wake.
"Well, that was... interesting," Boa Hancock said with a smirk, watching Doflamingo's gaze follow Crocodile.
"What? Did I miss something?" Dracule Mihawk asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Oh, nothing," Doflamingo replied with a wave of his hand, his eyes never leaving Crocodile. "Just admiring the local wildlife."
"If by 'wildlife' you mean a man who'd eat you for breakfast without batting an eyelash, yes, quite the sight," Hancock teased.
"Hancock, you're just jealous," Doflamingo shot back with a smirk.
"Jealous of what? That you're making a fool of yourself over a man who'd crush you like a bug?" she retorted, her laughter echoing in the now almost-empty chamber.
Doflamingo turned to her, his smirk still in place but his eyes burning with a hint of challenge. "Maybe I like living on the wild side," he said, his voice low and suggestive.
Bartholomew Kuma, the silent observer, decided to chime in. "Crocodile is not one to be toyed with, Doflamingo. He is not your plaything." His deep, robotic voice sent a chill down everyone's spine, a stark contrast to the light-hearted banter.
Doflamingo's smirk only grew, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "Is that a warning, Kuma?" He questioned, his tone playful yet holding a hint of malice.
“Very much so.”
The room grew tense with those simple words from Kuma. The air thickened, as if charged with the electricity of unspoken warnings and hidden intentions. Doflamingo’s smirk never wavered, his eyes never leaving Crocodile’s retreating form.
Finally when Crocodile was out of earshot, vice admiral Garp finally spoke up. “Please, for everything that is fucking holy, stop ogling my son-in-law.”
Everyone looked at him in surprise, especially Doflamingo. “Your what?” He exclaimed, his eyes wide.