Chapter 57
Crocodile rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time that day as she walks away from Doflamingo and his posse, braiding her hair as she does so.
Doflamingo follows her, chattering away with the tenacity of a hyperactive squirrel. "Crocodile, come on, you gotta give me a chance! I'll take you anywhere, do anything!" His eyes glitter with hope, but she remains unphased, her stride long and purposeful.
The only response he got in return was a grant from crocodile as she finished her braid, looping her hair tie at the end as she stopped at the curb seemingly acting as if she was waiting for someone.
Doflamingo stopped beside her, panting slightly from his excitement and the chase. He leaned in, his piercings glinting in the setting sun. “Seriously, Croc, I’ll show you a night you’ll never forget!”
Crocodile eyed him for a second before side stepping away from him at the same time screeching tires echoed through the air, followed by the sound of people yelping and running and shoving people out of the way as a sleek motorcycle zoomed into the college’s parking lot. It skidded to a halt right beside them.
The motorcycle was a dark shining emerald green, The motorcycle looks like it was a Monster and made for a runway, sleek and powerful, and the rider. The rider looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine, tall, dark and handsome. He was dressed in black wide leg dress pants, healed boots that looked like they were made out of black alligator skin and a belt to match, witg White button up with the top four buttons unbuttoned, and one of those fucking sexy Leather Harness Suspenders with Trigger Snaps, and stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks of ring, bracelets, and necklaces, and a wristwatch that looks like it could pay off all of the debt of every single student in the college.
The rider didn’t bother taking off his motorcycle helmet as he held out a plush Crocodile coming out of a banana peel to Crocodile.
Crocodile’s eyes lit up like stars, a smile stretching across her face that could melt the Arctic ice. She took the plush crocodile with a gentleness that seemed to surprise Doflamingo, her purple eyes sparkling with amusement. “Thank you, Dragon.” she said, her Egyptian accent a sweet melody to the ears.
Dragon, unfazed by the scene, gave a smirk under his helmet. “You’re welcome, my dear.” He revved the engine of the motorcycle, the deep rumble echoing through the lot as he handed a helmet to Crocodile. Who took it without a second of hesitation and put it on, her hair tucked neatly into the space behind her neck. She straddled the bike and wrapped her arms around the dragon's waist, the plush crocodile squished in between as Dragon revved the engine again and flipped a switch causing rock music, that was definitely rated 18+, to start playing from the motorcycle as they sped off.
Doflamingo's jaw dropped, his cheeks flushing a shade of red that clashed with his hair. His friends looked at him with a mix of shock and amusement, snickers escaping their lips. "Who the fuck is that guy?" Doflamingo snapped, his pride bruised. Crocodile had always been the one person who seemed indifferent to his charm, and now she was riding off into the sunset with someone else?
The bike's exhaust faded into the distance, leaving behind a cloud of dust and the echo of the rock anthem. Trebol clapped Doflamingo on the back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like you've got some competition, man."
Diamante chuckled, his teeth flashing in the fading sunlight. "Yeah, who knew she had a taste for the mysterious types?"
“Or that she knew how to like that.” Pica said with a laugh, nudging Doflamingo playfully.
Diamante leaned against his car, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied the retreating bike. “He’s got some serious style, though. Who the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know.” Doflamingo granted. “But Crocodile called him Dragon.”
Pica whistled through his teeth, his eyes wide. “Dragon, huh? That’s some cool fucking name. Bet he’s got a cool fucking story to go with it.”
Vergo, the more observant of the group, spoke up, his gaze thoughtful. “He’s definitely not from around here. That bike’s custom, and I’ve never seen anyone ride like that. Plus, the way he talked—it wasn’t like anyone else’s accent I’ve heard before. Sounds like he’s got some serious dough behind him too, with all those gold chains, rings and that fancy watch.”
Doflamingo’s eyes narrowed as he watched Crocodile and Dragon disappear down the road. The way she looked at that man, the way she took the plush toy and the helmet from him without even blinking, it was as if she’d been waiting for him. It was infuriating. “Fucking rich boy, thinking he can just swoop in and take what’s mine!” he grumbled under his breath.
“You’re a rich boy too, Doffy.” Trebol pointed out with a smirk.
“It’s not the same!” Doflamingo snapped back, his frustration palpable. “Dragon’s different. He’s got that... that...” He struggled to find the words, his hands flailing in the air as he tried to articulate his feelings.
“Charm?” Trebol suggested with a grin, earning him a glare from his friend.
SUMMARY^1: Doflamingo's friends discuss Dragon's mysterious appeal and wealth, noticing his unique style and the way Crocodile responded to him. Doflamingo feels threatened by the unknown competition and vents his frustration, acknowledging Dragon's distinctive charm.
SUMMARY^2: At college, the flamboyant Doflamingo tries to win over the exotic Crocodile, but she's uninterested. Dragon, a suave 21-year-old Brazilian with dark tan skin, arrives on a luxurious motorcycle and presents her with a novelty plush toy. Crocodile warms to Dragon, leaving Doflamingo humiliated as they leave together, while his friends speculate on Dragon's allure and wealth.
Diamante laughed, patting Doflamingo on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Or crocodiles, in this case.”
But Doflamingo wasn’t amused. He watched the taillights of the motorcycle shrink into the horizon, his mind racing with questions and a burning jealousy. Who was this Dragon? What did he have that he didn’t? And more importantly, how could he get Crocodile to look at him the way she had at the mysterious stranger?
“Hey, aren't Rosinante friends with one of Crocodile’s brothers? Why don’t you just ask if he knows who Dragon is?” Vergo suggested, breaking the tension.
Doflamingo’s gaze snapped to his friend, hope flaring in his chest. “Marco? Yeah, they hang out sometimes. And they work at that cat café together. Maybe he does know!” He pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying over the screen as he called his little brother. The line connected almost immediately, and he heard the clinking of glasses and laughter in the background.
“Rosinante!” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I need to ask you something important. Do you know a guy named Dragon?”
“Whoa.” Was the only response he got for a second, accompanied by the sound of somebody pulling a phone away from their ear. “Dragon?… yeah, I kinda know him. Why are you asking about Crocodile’s boyfriend?” Rosinante’s voice was faint with the background noise of the café.
Doflamingo’s heart plummeted. “Her what?!” he roared into the phone, drawing more than a few glances from his friends and nearby students.
“Whoa, chill, Doffy. Didn’t you know?” Rosinante sounded surprised. “Croc’s been with Dragon for a while now, they’re pretty serious. I first met Dragon when I started working at the cat café a few years ago. Apparently, they’ve known each other since they were kids, grew up side-by-side in the same neighborhood or something like that. He’s cool, though, really nice, and the cat here love him.”
Doflamingo's mind reeled with the revelation. Crocodile had a boyfriend? And not just any boyfriend, but this mysterious Dragon who rode a custom bike and had a cooler name than anyone he knew? It was like a punch in the gut, and he couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me, Rosinante? I thought we shared everything!"
Rosinante sounded a mix of surprised and slightly amused. "What? You're seriously upset? You guys are just friends, right?"
Doflamingo's grip tightened on his phone, his knuckles turning white. "Well, yeah, but... I just thought..." His voice trailed off, not quite sure how to explain the depth of his feelings without sounding like a love-sick puppy.
"Look, Doffy, I had no idea you had the hots for Croc." Rosinante chuckled. "But, man, you should've told me. Maybe I could've set you straight sooner."
Doflamingo felt his cheeks burn even hotter, his pride bruised. "It's not like that," he protested weakly, but the words felt hollow even to his own ears. His friends were now openly laughing at him, their teasing glances making his irritation grow.
“Here, I'll send you a picture of Dragon from the café’s work phone. So, when you get a text from an unknown number it’s just me sending you a Picture from the café’s Instagram.” Rosinante said, his voice sounding more amused than ever.
A few moments later, Doflamingo’s phone buzzed in his hand. He swiped to open the message and there was the picture of Dragon. In the picture, dragon was dressed in a dark gray turtleneck, with a black unbuttoned blazer over it, and White wide leg dress pants, a white leather belt with a golden belt buckle, dress shoes, and and stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks of ring, bracelets, and necklaces, and the same wristwatch that looks like it could pay off all of the debt of every single student in the college, and golden brass knuckles he was wearing as rings on both hands. He was sipping a cup of coffee and looking directly into the camera
And fuck. Dragon was fucking pretty, Dragon was fucking handsome, Dragon was fucking gorgeous. He looked like a goddamn model, and Doflamingo had never felt more inadequate in his life. The picture showed Dragon's jet black hair pulled into a ponytail, and Jesus fucking Christ that’s a lot of fucking hair, and his piercing dark brown eyes were framed by a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, making him look both dangerous and approachable at the same time. But the tattoo on his face made all the approachability practically vanish. It was a dark red diamond crisscross tattoo, with diamonds in the cross sections. It was fucking fierce.
“That’s Dragon.” Rosinante’s voice echoed through Doflamingo’s phone, cutting through his thoughts like a knife. “He’s a regular at the café. Though he mostly only shows up with Crocodile, or his friends to buy something for lunch, or to grab coffee. He’s a pretty cool customer, always tips well, and the cats love him.”
Doflamingo's eyes remained glued to the picture, his heart thudding in his chest as he studied every detail of the man who had so easily captured Crocodile's heart. The tension in the air was palpable as his friends leaned in to get a look at the photo, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.
"Well, shit," Pica exclaimed, slapping his hand to his forehead. "No wonder she wasn't interested in you, Doffy. That guy's got more style in his little toe than you have in your entire body!"
Diamante leaned in to get a better look at the picture, his eyes widening. "Damn, he's got more bling than a Vegas casino!"
Trebol smacked Pica on the back of his head. "Keep it down, you're gonna make him feel worse."
Doflamingo ignored them, his eyes never leaving the photo. The more he looked at Dragon, the more he felt like he was staring into the abyss of his own inadequacy. "So, what's the deal with this guy?" he asked, his voice tight with frustration. "What does he do? Where's he from?"
“I’m pretty sure he’s a CEO at… hold on, I got a flyer with the Business name.” Rosinante’s voice echoed through Doflamingo’s phone, accompanied by the sound of rustling papers. There was a long, long silence on the other end of the line. The only thing breaking the silence was the sound of rustling papers before the sound of Rosinante grumbling something echoed through the line before he yelled. “Marco! Where does Dragon work?”
A muffled response came through the phone before Rosinante spoke up again, his voice clearer than before. “Ah, right. Dragon’s a CEO of some big company. It’s called the Revolutionary Army Innovations…” there was another pause and the sound of Marco’s Voice in the background before Rosinante repeated whatever Marco said. “Yeah, he’s the CEO of the Revolutionary Army Innovations, apparently, he and his friends started building it from the ground up whenever they were still in high school, they’re like the youngest CEOs in the whole fucking world! Crazy right?!… uhmm… oh, I found the flyer!” Rosinante’s voice grew excited. “The flyer says they’re all about char, donation, helping less fortunate countries, families, etc, etc, etc. Building new schools, hospital, and all that jazz. Making sure everyone get Insurance, housing, food. Making sure the poor and homeless are feed, the homeless have a place to stay, and suing and taking down the corrupt and selfish corporations that exploit thar weak, and corrupt government officials and just really anyone that is using their power for evil and not for good. They’re trying to make the world a better place and something about ending wars and stuff. It’s all very heroic, and super cool.”
Doflamingo stared at the phone, his mind racing. Crocodile was with a guy who was not only rich, but also had a heart of gold and was a fucking hero? It was like someone had written the ultimate romance novel villain just to stick it in his face. "Thanks, Rosie," he managed to say, his voice tight. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone, his hand shaking slightly.
His friends looked at him expectantly, but he just shoved the phone into his pocket and started walking away, his strides quick and angry. "What the hell is Revolutionary Army Innovations?" Vergo asked, trying to keep up.
"It's some kind of charity company," Doflamingo muttered, his mind racing. "They do all this hero shit like building schools and hospitals and fighting corruption."
Vergo's eyes widened. "No way, man. That's like... saving the world and shit."
Doflamingo nodded curtly, his jaw clenched. "Yeah, just what we need, a fucking superhero swooping in and taking all the good ones." His friends exchanged knowing looks, trying to gauge his mood.
"C'mon, Doffy, don't let it get to you," Trebol said, trying to lighten the mood. "We'll help you find someone even hotter than Crocodile."
Doflamingo shot him a glare that could melt steel. "It's not about finding someone hotter. It's about... " He trailed off, unsure how to articulate the ache in his chest. It wasn't just about the rejection; it was about the connection he thought he had with Crocodile, the way she had looked at him, the way she had talked to him. And now, she was with Dragon, the charming, mysterious, do-gooder CEO. It was like he had been slapped with a reality check that he wasn't ready for.
The group walked in silence for a moment, the sound of their shoes against the pavement the only noise in the tense air. Doflamingo's mind raced with thoughts of Dragon, his wealth, his motorcycle, his piercing gaze, and most importantly, his relationship with Crocodile. He couldn't help but feel like he had been outmatched in every possible way.
The silence was finally broken by Diamante. “Holy fuck…” he breathed out, his eyes wide and glued to his phone, his mouth slightly agape as he slowly coming to a stop, his steps getting slower and slower.
Doflamingo, Trebol, and Vergo turned to look at him, their curiosity piqued. “What the fuck did you just find out?” Doflamingo demanded, his eyes snapping to his friend’s screen.
“Nothing!” Diamante practically squeaked, slamming his phone to his chest, hiding the screen from Doflamingo's prying eyes. "It’s just... nothing." His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.
Doflamingo raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Don’t bullshit me, DIA." He stepped closer, "What is it?"
Diamante's eyes darted to Doflamingo, then to the phone, then back again. "It's... just... nothing, really," he stuttered, trying to play it cool.
But Doflamingo wasn't buying it. "C'mon, DIA, spill it," he urged, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "You're turning redder than a fucking tomato. What did you find?"
“…well, I got curious after what Rosinante said… so… I decided to search up Dragon’s name on Instagram and oh my fucking god—“ Diamante cut himself off, his eyes still glued to the phone screen. “Let’s just say he doesn’t always just wear… ‘Business’ attire, nor do his friends—.”
Doflamingo snatched the phone out of Diamante’s hand, his curiosity piqued. The image that greeted him made his jaw drop. In the picture Dragon and four other’s were sitting on a large bubble couch. But it was what they were dressed in that had Diamante blushing like a schoolgirl.
In the photo Dragon was dressed in a ripped all the hell baggy cropped tank top with flame, designs, and holes all it. Baggy ripped blue jeans slung dangerously, dangerously low, calf length platform heeled boots that had spikes on them, spike jewelry, his hair was down and messy, and he had black makeup on.
In the pictures sitting beside dragon was a guy, and the Instagram tag said he was name Emporio Ivankov. He has a ginormous indigo colored Afro, and has long eyelashes. And, he’s definitely a drag queen. He’s dressed in leotard with a high collar and a deep V-neck that reaches down to his belly that also somehow looks like a corset. He has in matching gloves and healed boots, as well as a pearl necklace snd stockings being held up by garters. And he has on heavy, but tasteful indigo colored makeup. His back and arms are also covered in tattoo, the tattoos are mostly about gender and freedom to choose, and love.
And sitting beside Invankov was another guy that looks like he could make a nun sin right smack dab in the middle of a cathedral during a wedding, and the Instagram tag said he was name Bartholomew Kuma. Kuma was big, and when you think of the word big times it by two because this motherfucker was BIG! He was probably the same height as Dragon, but good Lord, holy motherfucking God he was beyond ripped. He had muscles on top of muscles and looked like he could bench press the entire fucking college student body if you wanted. He was dressed only in a pair black baggy leather pants slung dangerously, dangerously low, he had on a pair of wine, red heeled cowboy boots, a brown belt with a Silver belt buckle that looked like a rising sun. A big golden cross necklace, and fuck his nipples were also pierced, The piercings being shaped like golden crosses. And he had thick curly dark brown, almost black hair, dark brown eyes, and the most perfect shade of brown skin. He wore a pair of Square framed glasses, and a white hat.
In the picture leaning over the couch to say something to Kuma another guy stood and the Instagram tag said he was name Inazuma. Inazuma was the type of pretty where you couldn’t tell if they were a guy or a girl, but you knew they were pretty. Inazuma had Long, long, long hair split down the middle one half dyed white and the other half dyed a creamsicle orange. He wore a white silk dress underneath a fur coat that matched his hair, and had on a pair of thigh-high platform boots. His makeup was minimal but it was there, just enough to highlight the sharpness of his features.
And Jesus fucking Christ the four of them were fucking pretty, Doflamingo thought. He had to admit it, even if it killed him. Dragon looked like a goddamn rockstar with his messy hair and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you. And the way he was leaning back, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, his head tilted back as he listened to whatever his friends were saying. It was like he was the king of the fucking world.
And the drag queen? Ivankov? He was serving looks that could cut glass, with a body that didn’t quit. Doflamingo had to admit, he was feeling a bit envious of the confidence that oozed out of the guy. The way he held himself, the way he owned every single piece of clothing he had on, it was like he was born to be seen.
And Kuma, the towering giant with the body of a Greek god. Doflamingo's eyes roamed over the muscles that rippled under Kuma's bare skin, his gaze lingering on the golden crosses adorning the dark nipples. It was a strange mix of intimidation and fascination. And then was Inazuma, the androgynous beauty with a mischievous smirk playing on their lips, dressed like they'd just stepped out of a high fashion magazine.
"Fuck me," Doflamingo murmured, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. "These guys are... intense."
Vergo grabbed the phone from his hand, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Damn, they look like they could start a riot just by walking down the street," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and trepidation. "And that one—" He pointed to Inazuma, "—looks like they could win Miss Universe and Mr. Universe in the same night."
"Give it! I wanna see!" Pica exclaimed, reaching for the phone. His eyes widened as he took in the image. "Holy shit, they're... they're all hot as hell!"
Doflamingo snatched the phone back, a hint of possessiveness flashing in his eyes. "Yeah, well, looks aren't everything," he said defensively. But deep down, he knew he was just trying to convince himself. These guys had style, confidence, and apparently, hearts of gold. How could he possibly compete with that?