Chapter 9: Games of All Sorts
They had a long conversation about whether or not to go after the marine ship carrying the devil fruit.
Trebol admitted to himself that he had been tempted, but caution won out. Attacking the ship would be a reckless move while they were lying in wait for their moment, and especially given that there were soon to be many more marine ships in the area. Even Dia had, in the end, agreed that it would be too risky. There would be other devil fruits, and other marine ships. Lots and lots of them, once they became pirates.
Pirates! As Trebol stood on the hilltop under the steel-gray overcast sky, watching the marine ship sail toward the main port of the northern archipelago he reflected that piracy was never a path that he had expected. In his mind, perhaps, it was too physically demanding. He was a man built for sitting in chairs and signing papers— that was what his early life had shaped him to be, no matter how much he might like to change it. He was not a man for pulling rigging and hauling chain and managing sails.
But admittedly, if they had a crew— one they could effectively control and put the proper fear of disloyalty into— and he wasn’t actually going to have to do any sailing… he supposed that the pirate life might be for him. Diamante wasn’t wrong when he said that all the most wealthy, prestigious and powerful criminals were pirates these days. Not a day went by when you didn’t hear about Roger, or Whitebeard in the newspapers.
After all, their whole world was a great big ocean. Of course the most powerful criminals wouldn’t be bound to a single island, or handful of them. They’d go where the money was, and sail away from trouble.
It appealed more and more to Trebol, the longer he thought about it. The power, the prestige, the freedom.
And of course it was what Doffy wanted to do. Doffy had a good instinct for judging situations, and for crime in general. And it was good that he did because Trebol found him very hard to say ‘no’ to. Not that he couldn’t, but the disappointed or sour look in Doffy’s face was always hard to see.
Whenever Trebol had to say no to Doffy, he always had to make up for it afterward in cuddles and attention, and maybe a bottle of wine until the beautiful smile returned to his face.
So Trebol was glad he didn’t have to say no to Doffy this time. Not that he didn’t enjoy cuddling him or plying him with alcohol, far from it. But he was concerned perhaps that just at the moment he might have difficulty reigning in his jealousy.
Diamante had told Trebol that Doffy and Vergo had been kissing one another, and afterward, Trebol had seen it for himself. If he spent time cuddling with Doffy, it was going to become very difficult to battle his jealousy of those kisses. The last thing that Trebol wanted was to make Doffy uncomfortable around him, or arouse his ire, by being too demanding.
He was surprised how shortly it was before the point was made moot.
It was a miserable cold and wet day on Morey Pier about a week after they’d arrived. Long enough to start settling in, to get comfortable, and unfortunately, to get bored. There wasn’t much to do on the little factory island even if they’d wanted to go out and brave the nasty acidic rain that was hammering the ground in a torrent.
Trebol certainly didn’t. He in fact, was loath to move from his comfortable armchair in their new hideout’s handsome back drawing room, a big, thick blanket over his lap in addition to his usual warm coat. Diamante was cooking in the kitchen, and Trebol had put Vergo and Pica’s restless energy to cleaning the house’s stream bath so they could use it later. He was hoping that such a luxury might be able to cut through the mean chill that took through his bones on frigid days. He rather wished he hadn’t grown quite so tall– he suspected shorter people might have an easier time keeping warm.
Cozied up in his armchair however, he was feeling rather well given the circumstances. He had a rather fine brandy in hand, furnished by the former master of the house’s collection and was in the middle of a chess match with Doffy on the gold and ivory chessboard that held pride of place in the little parlor they’d taken over.
Only a week since they’d arrived, like the rest of the manor, it already felt more homey. It had been, prior to their takeover, altogether too pin-neat and stuffy. Trebol knew that the man they’d taken it from had neither friends nor family on the premises, and he certainly didn’t entertain. It showed in his too-clean rooms, which the family had quickly changed to their liking. More pillows and blankets had been brought in, plus extra chairs from other rooms of the house. There was a collection of wine bottles from the cellar now in easy reach, and a pile of books where Doffy and Vergo had been looking through the collection in the bookcase. Dia had rather cheekily stuck a knife through the face of the portrait over the mantle and deliberately left it askew, which amused Trebol to no end.
He liked the hazy veil of smoke Dia and Vergo had plumed into the room as a permanent fixture less, especially on a day where it was imprudent to open the window, but like all of their annoying habits he attempted patience. He blew his poor, tingling nose and took his turn in the game, hoping to corner Doffy this time.
It was unlikely– Doffy had creamed him in all but one of the games they’d played so far. Dia might have thought that Trebol would be unhappy about that turn of events, but on the contrary, it pleased him greatly. Through Doffy’s advancement in the game as he came to beat him more and more often, Trebol had a front row seat for the young master’s burgeoning talent— his ruthlessness and sharp strategic mind, which Trebol was helping to hone like a fine blade. To polish to a mirror finish.
Trebol smiled across the board at him as he turned over the timer and watched Doffy think over his next move. There was that pensive expression on his fine, angelic face, his pretty eye and damaged eye hidden behind his glasses, making him look mysterious and aloof as always. Between the lenses, the lack of a prominent brow, and Doffy’s near constant little smile, he always looked a little mysterious. A little inscrutable to anyone outside. But not to Trebol. Trebol was privy to the meaning of all the little subtle shifts of Doffy’s face– a consequence of his keen eye, and his tendency to watch the boy closely.
Though truthfully, Doffy was less a boy now, and more a young man. As Diamante had so recently mentioned, his birthday was coming up. He would be thirteen. And in the nearly three years since they had first laid eyes on him, Doffy had grown considerably. All the boys had, of course, but it was Doffy who always caught Trebol’s eye.
He was just shy of a foot taller than he had been, and had traded some of the cherubic baby fat he’d carried for a lithe musculature that seemed to enhance his softness rather than compete with it. He had the beginning of fine, sharp cheekbones, and he’d gained definition in his upper arms. The weight he’d put on, now no longer starving, that hadn’t gone straight to his muscles had seemed to go straight to his hips and thighs, giving him an almost girlish curve to his lower body. That Doffy had decided that he preferred lower cut trousers over the high waisted variety only made it more difficult for Trebol to avoid noticing.
“It’s your turn, Trebol.”
He jolted out of his reverie, realizing he hadn’t even noticed what move that Doffy had ultimately made. Quite a blunder, but it wasn’t like he had been likely to win the match in any case. He chuckled embarrassedly anyway.
“Thank you, Doffy, I got carried away planning my strategy.” He favored Doffy with a sly smile, taking careful stock of the board.
“Uhuh.” Doffy smirked, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned toward him, watching.
Trebol glanced between the board and the young master’s teasing expression back and forth as he made his assessment. His lips parted, and he sighed.
He looked up at Doffy over his own smoked pince-nez spectacles. “Doffy. You’ve mated me.”
“Uhuh.” Doffy’s smirk turned into a wide, toothy grin. “Check mate.”
Trebol laughed and shook his head at the outcome. “Well, I expected that but I didn’t expect it so fast! Well done, young master! You’re quite the chess prodigy.”
“You’re a good teacher.”
“And you’re a good student, my dear Doffy.” Trebol chuckled playfully as he leaned forward under his blankets to start picking up the pieces and reset the board.
Doffy, however, had other ideas it seemed. He pinned Trebol’s beaten king under one finger and declared. “I’m bored.”
“Well, maybe time to do something else then,” Trebol agreed, stroking his chin. Six games was enough that even his own patience for the game was growing thin, and he considered some other diversion for the two of them.
Before he could think of something, let alone suggest it, without warning and without another word, Doffy stood from his chair and came and sat himself right across Trebol’s lap.
Trebol felt his pince-nez slip on his nose as he looked down in astonishment. Doffy, in his bare feet and short pants, had sat himself sideways across him, the thick blanket that Trebol was under between them.
“Is that alright? I’m not too heavy?”
“Hey, hey, never, Doffy,” Trebol promised.
Trebol was far from the strongest man alive, despite the size of his body– rather frail from the cruel treatment of his enslaved upbringing. Doffy was not too heavy for him, thankfully, but even if he had been some immense burden of weight Trebol still wouldn’t have told him. Both to spare his feelings and because Trebol himself was thrilled to have him there. Doffy sat on both his and Dia’s laps occasionally, but this was the first time since they’d come to Morey Pier that Trebol had had the pleasure.
Partially it was his fault, he knew. But now Doffy had forced the issue, and he certainly wasn;t going to say no to Doffy!
“Good then. You may pet my hair.”
Obviously it was less permission, and more command.
Once again it surprised Trebol, but Doffy’s demanding nature was neither something new, nor something unwanted. He had just assumed that now that Doffy was getting his physical affection from Vergo and Pica he would be less interested in getting it from Trebol. It seemed he’d assumed incorrectly— at least while the pair weren’t available— and Trebol was not the least displeased by that.
Happily Trebol ran his fingers through Doffy’s blond locks. His short hair was growing longer, a little wispy and almost curled at the end. Doffy arched into the touch like a big cat, and for a few minutes he just sat there petting him in his lap like he was one. They listened to the sound of the rain outside together, pattering on the roof of the manor, and rushing across the garden outside. Trebol sipped his brandy, the ice clinking in the glass, and offered some to Doffy to took drinks from the glass, but made Trebol hold it for him as he did.
A few minutes later, he poked Trebol in the chest. “Do you love me, Trebol?”
Trebol looked down, surprised yet again. “Huh? What kind of question is that, Doffy?”
He wasn’t quite sure what he heard in Doffy’s voice. It wasn’t exactly insecurity. Trebol knew the sound of Doffy’s insecurity. Regal and kingly as he may be, Doffy often needed reassurances that he was loved and cared for. Unsurprising given the sorry state that they’d found him in. Trebol often entertained thoughts of killing Doffy’s father himself, especially since the plan of delivering his head had turned out useless.
But it wasn’t that needy insecurity that was thick in Doffy’s voice just now. It was something else. The slightly purring tone in the young master’s voice intrigued him and threw him off balance.
Doffy stared up at him and Trebol could feel the intensity of his gaze behind his crimson glasses. His answer came back haughty, and sharp. “One that I’m demanding an answer to. And I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Maybe he did need to be reassured after all. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe Trebol’s slight distance over the last week had made Doffy worried that Trebol didn’t love him any more.
He put his brandy down, and wrapped both of his arms around Doffy’s waist. He was pleased to remind the young master that he was unwavering in both his support, and his affection. He should have thought about how much attention Doffy always needed. He had been selfish, keeping himself distant due to his own frustrated envy.
“Hey, hey I wouldn’t lie, Doffy,” he placated. “Of course I love you.”
Doffy stared him down.
“And the others? They love me too?”
Another demand. Trebol chuckled bashfully. He knew that he was the very person who had taught Doffy to talk to people like that– to talk to him like that– and he didn’t regret it. His bossy, kingly manner was charming!
As for the question itself, Trebol was equally sure of the others’ devotion as he was his own, and equally quick to defend it. “They love you, Doffy. I swear. We all do.”
“Good.”
Doffy leaned against him again, and Trebol didn’t question him about it further, instead going back to petting his hair, until a moment later when Doffy squirmed and reached for something on the table.
Trebol watched curiously as he grabbed a napkin and damped it with some of the dregs of the ice from the brandy glass. Doffy washed all the traces of soot and sweat and other mundane filth of the day off of his face. It wasn’t that unusual– Doffy had been living in the trash when they’d found him, and sometimes he’d get all twitchy and panicked about garbage or being dirty. Trebol couldn’t blame him. He didn’t like feeling dirty either, which was why it was miserable when his body betrayed him.
What startled Trebol was when suddenly, without waiting for permission, did the same to him, gently attacking him with the alcohol smelling napkin. The cool cloth carried away the grime rather refreshingly from his pale, soft face, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain, but he was curious if there was something more on the young man’s mind. He hadn’t thought that he’d been particularly dirty, but perhaps the young master had noticed a smudge that had bothered him while the two of them were cuddling. He wouldn’t have blamed him, Trebol often felt like he was too disgusting for someone as beautiful as Doffy to tolerate.
The surprises were not over however, because before he could ask what was up, Doffy leaned up in his lap and pressed his lips to Trebol’s.
Whatever question he might have asked was smothered immediately by kiss. Swallowed up and annihilated by the soft unthinkability of it, the swooning perfection.
Trebol was certainly not about to say no to whatever their kingly young leader wanted, even if it was something he’d assumed would hold disgust rather than interest. Especially when it was the very thing that he had been envying and fretting over and thinking that he would not be allowed to have.
Doffy had surprised him with his grace and adoration again, and Trebol felt quite stupid for having worried. Of course Doffy wanted to kiss him. Wasn’t he his savior? His tutor? Wasn’t it simply right and natural that the young man, so eager for affection and love, would want this from him too?
Trebol felt himself flushing as Doffy kissed him greedily and as he returned it. He pressed his tongue into the young man’s mouth only after Doffy had first invaded his own, but thereafter showed no hesitation. After all, this was what Doffy wanted. This was what Trebol wanted. Doffy had started it— it was nothing like Trebol’s cruel master taking what he wanted from his young slave’s unwilling mouth, years ago in the clerk’s office.
Despite that, Trebol still hoped that the thick blanket between them kept Doffy from feeling just how much Trebol was enjoying this.
Trebol felt himself jolt and go further scarlet as the door clicked open just as Doffy was breaking the kiss.
He hurried to pull away in hopes to preserve the young man’s dignity– surely he wouldn’t want to be seen kissing him– as well as his own, not really wishing to explain the situation to whoever was walking in on them.
But Doffy pulled him back for a final kiss perhaps just out of spite. Trebol gave up and let him have whatever he wanted, lips lingering on lips, his arms still around him. As Doffy finally let him free, a catlike smirk on his face, Trebol saw Diamante lounging in the doorway, as he’d almost expected, with a bemused look on his face.
“Am I interrupting something, Doffy?”
Trebol felt quite flushed and breathless, and he fought to stop from fanning himself as he stared at his partner across the way with an equally bemused expression. He shrugged as if to say ‘I’m as surprised as you are’.
Doffy slid back into Trebol’s lap properly and smirked. “No, you can come in.”
Trebol huffed a breath as his weight settled on him, shivering at the pleasant weight, and he looped his arm around his waist. “Yes, yes, do come in, Dia. What’s up?”
Diamante chuckled. “Oughta ask you the same thing. Nah, lunch is ready and Pica and Corazon are done cleaning up that bath for ya. I was coming to see if you were interested in a poker game.”
Trebol looked down at Doffy where he was practically pooled in his lap. “Well, Doffy? You did say that you were bored.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll help play your hand, Trebol. I’m comfortable now and I don’t want to move.”
They all laughed at that, though Dia gave Trebol the kind of look that made him positive he was going to be quizzed about the incident later. Unsurprising. Diamante’s gossiping was the reason Trebol had heard about Doffy’s new kissing fixation in the first place. Trebol suspected he would be keen to hear the details.
Doffy settled cozy and content in Trebol’s lap, a smile like the cat that got the canary as everyone shuffled in and Dia passed around the sandwiches he’d made in paper wrappings and the gang got settled to start their card game. Doffy didn’t feel like playing partly because he’d worn out his competitive streak for the day playing chess, and partly because he was very comfortable where he was, and partly because he wasn’t ready to be done teasing Trebol.
For the past couple of days, Trebol, who ordinarily seemed delighted to cuddle with him, sit close, or play with his hair, and been distant. And once Doffy was done feeling hurt and confused, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out what he (correctly, it turned out) suspected the problem was. Trebol was feeling left out, or like he was thinking Doffy wouldn’t want to kiss him.
That wasn’t all that surprising, on reflection. Half of the reason Doffy had roped Pica into kissing was that he didn’t want him to feel left out or jealous if he saw him and Vergo. And Trebol, Doffy knew, often felt very unlovable and disgusting in general. He had swiftly come to realize that Trebol was not going to, as Doffy had kind of hoped he would, kiss him on his own.
So Doffy had taken it into his own hands, and it had been immediately obvious that he had been exactly right. And no surprise that he was right because Trebol was always telling him he was a genius. He had been right and now Trebol wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, and kissing him had been nice in any case. It was interesting the way that Trebol was so much bigger than he was, and bigger than any of his other kissing partners so far, too. He liked the way Trebol’s tongue felt curiously large in his mouth, and he was excited to do it again.
During or after lunch was definitely not the right time, though, so Doffy contented himself with the lap snuggles. He glanced around the room and his gaze fell on Diamante, the only person at the table whom Doffy had not yet kissed. Unlike Trebol, Diamante had not been distant from him at all the last week. If anything, Dia had been more free with touches and affection than usual.
Doffy hadn’t kissed him yet because he was pretty sure that he and Dia were playing a game. Who would kiss who first. This was partly why it had taken him so long to realize what had been wrong with Trebol. Dia seemed to find it incredibly funny to act like he was going to kiss Doffy and then do something else and pretend nothing had happened. Doffy was sure that he was waiting for him to get impatient with the whole situation and make Doffy kiss him. He had a sly, teasing grin on his wide lips every time it happened.
And as soon as Doffy had noticed that, it had engaged his competitive, stubborn streak instead of his demanding side. He had started to do the same as Dia– to act like he was going to kiss him and then pull away and pretend he was doing something else the whole time.
It was frankly hysterical. He had chatted away about the game to Pica while they were in the back garden the day before yesterday, but he wasn’t sure Pica understood why that was funny. That was alright though.
Now that Doffy had closed the distance with Trebol, he thought that his patience for waiting for Diamante to break might wear thin— but he also thought he might be close to winning, if the look on Dia’s face when he saw him kissing Trebol was a good indication. He hoped that it was. He wanted to win, but he also didn’t want to wait around forever, and Dia was very good at playing bashful.
It was anyone’s game.
The long, soaking rain had dissolved into a cool, foggy night, moonless under the black clouds that blotted the sky. Trebol had gone out to sit on the manor’s back porch and ‘get some air’, and Dia had followed him with a cigarette and a bottle of wine. He politely made sure to stand downwind of him, since he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want the smoke in his face no matter how much he liked Dia’s company.
Still, he stood close enough to be able to pass the wine bottle back and forth, and for Trebol to see his grin framed by the flickering gas lamps that lit the area. “So, you and Doffy, eh?”
Close enough for Dia to see the flush that crept over his sallow face at the question. Trebol snatched the bottle from him in a huff and took a long drink. “Doffy kissed me, if that’s what you’re asking, yes.”
“No shit?” Dia chuckled. He took a long breath of the cool night air. The heavy rain had pulled a lot of the chemical stink out of it, leaving it smelling fresh, and salty like the sea. “He’s still teasing me. Admittedly, I started it so I can’t complain. But I’d have figured you’d have gone for it by now. Guess Doffy got tired of waiting. Maybe I’ll win our game.”
Trebol took another drink of the wine and passed it back to him with his eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t going to kiss Doffy unless that was what he wanted, Dia.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly offering, Mr. Shy, now were you? How’s he supposed to know you wanted to?” Dia shook his head. Trebol seemed off now that he’d raised the topic– more than he had assumed he’d be. “You’re usually all over Doffy but even I noticed you go ice cold. Is this because of your sniffles?”
Diamante took a long drink of wine and watched his partner’s reaction. Surprisingly stiff. “Partly, yes. I’m not a desirable man, Dia, we’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, yeah, we have been over it,” Dia shook his head. Honestly at this point Dia was so used to him that he didn’t much notice any more. There wasn’t ‘desirable’ or ‘undesirable’, there was just Trebol. Familiar. His partner. “But you know Doffy, he doesn’t give a shit. He fucking adores you, man, of course he’s gonna want kisses. He’s like some kind of unstoppable cuddle monster. Like possibly literally unstoppable.”
He chuckled at his own joke, and it got a laugh out of Trebol at least too, which was great because Dia was worried that he had spoiled the day’s good mood.
“Hey, hey, you’re not wrong.” Trebol shook his head, smiling a little ruefully. “Our precious Doffy takes what he wants and I guess he wanted kisses. So I’m a lucky man.”
“I’m not arguing,” Dia chuckled. He took another long swig of wine before he passed it back. “Might get even luckier. Him and Vergo are getting pretty noisy in the bedroom before breakfast the last couple of days.”
Trebol, red faced and wide eyed rounded on him, jamming a finger into Dia’s chest. “Hey, hey you shouldn’t be listening to that!”
Trebol’s reaction surprised him. He had expected embarrassment, but with curiosity, not the flush of anger that seemed to be there. He threw up his hands in surrender.
“Whoa, Tre, come on, ease up, I was just teasing! Damn what the hell is up with you?”
Trebol took a breath slumped backward into his chair, composing himself and smoothing back his hair. “Sorry.”
Dia leaned in toward him, putting his hands on either side of his chair. “Well now I know something’s fucking wrong. Spill it, Tre. You said ‘partly’ when I asked about why you were being so shy with Doffy, what’s the other part?”
Trebol shrank back from him in the chair and Dia didn’t like that. “He’s young, Dia. He’s just about to turn 13.”
“And? That’s practically a man for most people in this world, Tre.” Diamante shook his head. “I was only two years older than that when you and I started fooling around and trust me I promise you I was younger than that when I started fooling around by myself.”
“Sure, sure, that’s fine for him ‘fooling around’ as you put it, for himself, but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, Dia. He trusts me.”
Dia narrowed his eyes, not sure he knew where this was going. “Yeah, he does trust you. He adores you. So why the fuck are you so shy about it if he wants to kiss and fool around? Why would you think he’d feel uncomfortable?”
And more importantly, Dia wondered, was he going to make it a pain in the ass for him if he wanted to fool around with Doffy?
Trebol’s answer came murmured from practically into his coat, his arms wrapped around himself. “My master. My old slave master at the clerk’s office. He… forced himself on me, Dia. When I was a little younger than Doffy is now.”
Dia’s stomach lurched at the idea. He knew that Trebol had been a slave, and that his master was a cruel man who had beaten, starved, and abused Trebol severely. But he’d never considered that he’d done that.
The surprise must have shown on his face, because Trebol uncurled from himself somewhat and cocked his head. “You didn’t guess?”
“Wh? No I didn’t fucking guess! Why the hell would I guess that?”
“How did you think I knew what to do for you?” Trebol stared up at Dia with such earnest confusion, that Dia dropped the wine bottle right into his partner’s lap as he turned and half collapsed himself against the wall next to his chair.
He slapped his palm against his forehead as suddenly everything clicked into place. “I don’t fucking know, from a book or something? I was just happy to have you sucking my cock, I wasn’t thinking about where you’d learned it. Fucking hell…”
“Sorry, Dia.”
He rounded on him to stare him in the face again. “Now what the hell are you apologizing to me for? I’m standing here thinking I gotta sail all the way back home and kill this bastard for you real slow! Start with his toes and work my way up!”
Trebol chuckled softly and held up his hands too. “Hey, hey it’s a tempting offer, Dia, I’ll consider it. But now do you see why I was ‘shy’? I don’t want Doffy to feel like I forced myself on him. That’s not something I want to do to him!”
“Yeah, I can see it alright, but, hell, Tre, it ain’t the same at all.” Dia shook his head.
“You don’t think so?”
“Hell no! You were a slave, Tre. A powerless fucking slave. You couldn’t say no. You couldn’t stop him if he didn’t listen to no. Doffy, I think we can both agree, is not a slave.”
“Obviously not!”
“And he can say no any time and you’d listen to him cause you’re a pushover.” Dia grinned, and slapped his shoulder, making sure that Trebol knew that he was teasing to lighten the mood. “And let’s be honest, there’s a good shot Doffy could kill you if he tried hard enough, if you did something he didn’t like.”
“That’s true…”
Diamante slapped him across the shoulder again for good measure.
“You’re stuck in your own head about this, man, and I can see why but it’s bullshit. Doffy loves you. You ain’t forcing him to do anything that he doesn’t want to do. And Tre I know you love playing ‘teacher’ but I hate to remind you you are not that much older. Is Doffy on the younger side? Sure! He’s on the younger side to be murdering people too, and he’s doing that. We’re all just a bunch of young gangsters. We’re about to be pirates. You can loosen up.”
Trebol laughed– he actually laughed and Diamante felt very relieved at that– and he lifted the wine bottle in an almost salute. “Just when I think I have a monopoly on good advice for criminals. Dia, you’ve got a monopoly on common sense, thank you.”
Diamante looped his arm around his shoulder. “Any time, partner. I know how you can wind yourself up, and I mean I can’t blame you. Murder offer’s still open.”
Trebol huffed a chuckle, leaning on Dia’s shoulder, and took a long sip of wine before passing him back the bottle. “Given that in a couple of month’s time we’re going to be tormenting the North Blue on our very own pirate ship, I shall very much consider taking you up on that.”
“Good. We’ll put him on the list along with those bastards who tortured Doffy.” Dia drained the last of the wine, and threw the bottle out over the rail of the porch where it shattered on some rocks in the garden. “He’d be horrified, by the way, don’t you think?”
“About?”
“I mean, hearing what happened to you,” Dia shrugged. “And hearing you were worrying you were like that. Doffy’d probably rip that guy’s guts out through his asshole with his thread if you told him.”
That got another laugh out of Trebol and he leaned fondly into him. “Oh now you’re just trying to tempt me.”
“Maybe. It does sound like a good time. We’re gonna have to get more creative with this pirate shit. No more crimes that are nothing but paperwork.”
“Hey, hey some of those paperwork crimes are very creative I’ll have you know!”
Diamante was deeply thankful to have salvaged the mood and smoothed over Trebol’s twisted up feelings as they drifted off such unpleasant topics, and onto more fun ones like how many people they were going to rob, and kill, and how high their bounties were going to get. They crowed and jeered and one-upped one another with twisted ideas for crimes for a while. Out in the mist the frogs sang and the crickets chirped.
Dia resolved that tomorrow, he was going to let Doffy win their little game.