Drunk and in Love (1155 words) by thesavagesabretooth
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: One Piece [Manga]
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Crocodile/Mr. 3 | Galdino
Characters: Galdino | Mr. 3, Crocodile [One Piece]
Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Crimes & Criminals, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk Confession, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Summary:

Finally, with Cross Guild’s success, the good times are returning. Crocodile and Galdino celebrate together, and Crocodile gets drunk and affectionate.

–

In the early weeks of Cross Guild’s official formation, they had just awarded their highest bounty yet, to someone who had brought in a Marine rear admiral. Crocodile had been celebrating, already four whiskeys deep, and now telling Galdino, who lay stretched against his chest, to pour him another. Galdino always found it best to do whatever Crocodile told him.

He leaned up and grabbed the bottle, tipping it into Crocodile’s glass of half-melted ice. They were in the lounge tent of the former ‘Buggy’s Delivery Service’, Crocodile’s large form relaxed and shirtless in the nest of pillows atop one of the couches there. Mihawk and Buggy had been drinking in the room earlier, but had excused themselves—officially to discuss Shanks, but Galdino suspected that there would be very little talking going on. Or at least other activities at the same time.

The rest of Cross Guild was also otherwise occupied with their own celebrations, which left Galdino and his boss alone together. That was fine. Galdino had spent a lot of time alone with Crocodile in Alabasta, in the days before Baroque Works had come together. It was pleasantly nostalgic— even better because now, after Impel Down and Marineford, Crocodile had lost some of his bitterness, and his need to keep others at arms’ length.

He certainly wasn’t at arms’ length now, practically cuddled against his boss’ half-nude body. Quite the contrary, he felt the warm weight of him like a reminder, and a reassurance. Days before, Crocodile had apologized, in his own way, for the attempt on Galdino’s life. Galdino had had no intention of holding it against him anyway— Crocodile had been out of his mind. But it was touching to hear that he’d regretted it, all the same.

Galdino passed him back his glass. “You’re in a good mood tonight, sir.”

“Damned right I am, ‘Dino,” Crocodile purred. He lifted his glass in a salute before taking a slow sip. “Its a good night. Good things for Cross Guild. …Good company.”

“You flatter me, sir.” Galdino turned toward him and was surprised by the soft look on Crocodile’s stern, solid face.

“I mean it,” he insisted. He swallowed the rest of the whiskey, melting ice and all, before putting the glass on the table, and reaching down to cup Galdino’s jaw.

“Sir…” Galdino felt himself tremble a little at his boss’ touch, and he leaned into it. Until recently it had been so long since Crocodile had been so warm, and unguarded. In Alabasta, he had seemed to grow more distant by the day. Galdino still wasn’t used to him being so affectionate. He savored it. He had missed it.

Crocodile guided Galdino’s face up by his chin, and pressed him into a soft, sloppy kiss, thick with tongue and tasting deeply of whiskey. Galdino slipped his arms around the man’s wide chest.

The two of them were a pair of evil men, unrepentant killers, both long past the days of any youthful naivety, but it didn’t mean that they were past all desire for tenderness. Galdino admired the strong, ruthless man he had followed for so long—as Crocodile and as ‘Mister Zero’—and had spent many years faithfully serving him through his darkest, harshest moments, and he was glad to. But he had missed these moments where his service afforded him the privilege to see Crocodile’s softer side as well. He had thought for a long while that such a thing was gone almost beyond recall.

As they kissed, Crocodile stroked his fingers down Galdino’s throat, and down over his cheek, until he wrapped his arm around him and drew him closer. Galdino let his tongue fill his mouth— with nearly anyone else, he liked to be the one in control, but with Crocodile he was happy to surrender.

The kiss broke, and Crocodile nuzzled his larger face against his cheek like an affectionate cat.

“You are very drunk, sir Crocodile,” Galdino said softly.

Crocodile chuckled in his ear, and he felt his warm breath on his neck. “What’s it to ya if I am, Dino?”

“Nothing at all, sir. It’s nice to see you… happy.”

Crocodile leaned back into the cushions and pulled Galdino against his chest. “It’s sure been a while, hasn’t it?”

“A long time,” Galdino agreed. “But we don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“We sure fucking don’t.”

Crocodile smiled a lazy, drunken smile and reached up. His hand ended up against the side of Galdino’s head, fingers brushing over his heavily waxed and styled hair. In response, Galdino let the wax relax into its liquid state and dribble out of his hair before disappearing, leaving his top knot falling gently into Crocodile’s touch. Crocodile stroked his fingers through it, un-looping it from the ties that kept it together, and letting it fall in Galdino’s face.

Crocodile wound the long strands of dark hair around his fingers, the locks twining with the rings that he wore. It was a familiar gesture to a long ago time in their lives, and Galdino leaned into his touch.

“You know I love you, right, ‘Dino?”

Galdino felt the blood rush to his face. Crocodile was very drunk indeed to say something so openly— certainly he would be embarrassed about it later. But even knowing that, hearing it filled Galdino up with an long-missed warmth, and he leaned close into his boss’ arms.

He knew that Crocodile loved him—believed it even in the darkest moments, even in times where other people wouldn’t see it. They were strange, dark men, and their love was equally strange and dark, but Galdino knew it just the same. Even when Crocodile had tried to kill him, he didn’t really believe that it meant Crocodile didn’t love him.

“Yes, sir. I love you, too, you know.”

Galdino was an assassin and an artist in the study of fear— some would certainly say that he didn’t know what love was. But he had stood beside Crocodile for so long, through the good and the bad, and he would stand there until the whole house of cards fell down fell down for the last time. He craved Crocodile’s approval, and his touch, and in return he was happy to do whatever Crocodile liked to please him. And he felt that shining warmth when Crocodile said that he loved him.

He felt his glasses slip down his nose, not as drunk as his boss, and bashful to let the confession slip out of his mouth. But he didn’t have long to worry about it, because Crocodile caught him up in another drunk and sloppy kiss.

There were many fine ways that Galdino liked to spend an evening— reading, drinking tea, making art, killing, having sex. He had always found that that trapped in Crocodile’s drunken, soppy embrace was very high on that list, and he was very glad to be there once again.