ABOUT
A collection of my drabbles about Doffy and Crocodile. Please leave comments and kudos at the AO3 version of the archive.
You Love me, Though
"Shouldn't I be sitting on your lap, you big bastard?" Crocodile grumbled.
"No." Doflamingo smiled up at him, wiggling his feet petulantly as he lay the whole top of his body over Crocodile's legs. He thumped his head against Crocodile's chest like some kind of obnoxious cat, and Croc sighed and petted his fingers through Doffy's blond hair.
"You're fucking ridiculous."
"You love me though." He beamed up at Crocodile. "Give me a puff off your cigar."
Crocodile rolled his eyes, but indulgently took the cigar out of his mouth and put it to Doflamingo's lips.
"Brat."
"You love me."
Flirtacious
Doflamingo kisses Crocodile flirtatiously– outrageously even. He loops his arms around him from behind and tugs his face around to meet him, pressing his tongue into his mouth and pulling him close.
Doffy always seems to kiss him by surprise when it's least convenient. He suspects it's at least partially intention.
He twists himself around to face the taller warlord and grabs him by the lapels of his open shirt forcing him against the wall, and forcing his tongue into his mouth in return.
He suspects aggression is exactly what Doffy likes provoking. He gets what he wants, as usual.
Attempted Patricide
Crocodile lays with his head reclined against Doflamingo's bare chest staring vacantly up at the ceiling.
"You killed your father, didn't you, Doffy?"
"Sure did." Crocodile can't see it, he can hear the smile in his voice.
"Wish I could say the same." Crocodile takes a puff of his cigar.
Excitedly, Doflamingo scoops his arms around him. "Is he still alive? I'll help you kill him!"
Crocodile's stomach lurches.
The two of them going after Whitebeard. He considers it briefly, then shakes his head.
"I'd want to kill him myself."
He'd tried once, and failed. He can't bear another humiliation.
Sort of like a Meet-Cute
The third time that Doflamingo followed him too-close out of the warlords' meeting room, half bent and looming over him like some kind of enormous dog Crocodile realized that there was more going on than the man simply trying to be annoying.
He grabbed him by the coat– forced him up against the wall with the curve of his hook.
"What the hell do you want, man?"
"I don't know. Have a drink with me, maybe?" Doflamingo just kept smiling.
With a sinking feeling, Crocodile realized that he was being asked out. And worse, he was going to say yes.
Guarded Heart
Doflamingo doesn't know if it's jealousy, exactly, but during their time as warlords Crocodile never wants to talk about other people. He says he prefers to be in the moment with him— to be together when they are together and not to speak other places, of the future, or of the past.
Doffy grudgingly respects his wish. How can he be anything but flattered if Crocodile wants to think only of him when they are together? If Crocodile wants to think of nothing else but his arms when he's in them.
But he knows the secret reason is old wounds.
Banishing Nightmares
Doffy sits bolt upright in bed, the phantasmal smell of charred flesh still in his nose.
Panting and sweating he reaches for his wine bottle and finds Crocodile's arm instead. The memory of sharing the bed comes flooding back to him and he scowls, turning away.
"Hey," Crocodile grabs his face gently and turns it back towards him. "Hey it's alright."
It isn't easy to let someone outside his family see him this vulnerable but he feels his trembling stop as Crocodile gathers him into his arms and puts kisses across the back of his shoulders.
"Easy, Doffy. I'm here."
The Things They Don't Say
Doflamingo and Crocodile are very good at soothing one another, and very bad about talking about what actually hurts. Their communication isn't verbal, it is physical, intimate. Both men desperately reaching for comfort and affection without the ability to make themselves truly vulnerable to one another.
Doflamingo lays his head on Crocodile's chest. He does not say 'I was remembering my brother today'.
Crocodile pulls Doflamingo tightly into his arms. He does not say 'my missing hand is aching today.'
They kiss roughly and with desperation; with silent, screaming hearts, talking of anything but what is really on their minds.
A whole perfume store
"Doffy, why the hell do you always smell like a whole perfume store exploded on you?" Crocodile growled as he broke the kiss that Doflamingo had pushed on him.
His lips lingered close to Crocodile's for a moment. "You don't like it? I use perfumed soap, and aftershave, and cologne of course. And my hair oil's scented. Oh and Giolla perfumes our clothes when they come back from the laundry."
Crocodile snorted, running the crook of his hook up Doflamingo's back. "No wonder just standing near you makes me fucking dizzy."
"Aw, Croc, you're telling me I make you swoon?"
Touch Starved
Doflamingo didn't want to have to tell Crocodile that he was touch-starved, that he was lonely; that he was bored, and needed affection and attention.
He didn't want to admit that the infrequent warlord meetings— where he had to travel and stay without his usual family coterie— were a miserable torturous trial for his emotional health.
He wanted Crocodile to know. He should just know.
Doffy heaved his way on top of Crocodile's lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He nuzzled his head on his neck.
"Tell me I'm pretty, Croccy."
Crocodile kissed his cheek and sighed. "You're insane."
Secondhand Affection
Passing bottles and smokes back and forth was a form of intimacy Doflamingo learned early— too early— hammered deep into his being like his need for physical touch. He clutched Crocodile in his lap and grabbed puffs off his cigar, offering his bottle of wine in return.
Crocodile made like he only put up with it of course, but Doflamingo knew better. If he wasn't enjoying himself the bastard would probably just turn into a pile of sand. Croc might not admit it but when he sipped the wine and passed it back to him wordlessly, Doffy knew he cared.
Winding You Up
Crocodile could have dissolved into sand at any time, but with what he felt like was the patience of a martyr he let Doflamingo wrap his threads around his body and pull him closer to his chest.
Croc thumped against him and tilted his chin to peer dubiously up into Doffy's shining lenses, the other man leering at him.
"Can I help you?"
Doffy's lips curled. "I want a kiss "
"And this is my problem, why ?"
Crocodile smirked as Doflamingo pouted in response, deflating like a wet bird. He grabbed Doffy's chin and pulled him down into a rough kiss.
Familiar With the Concept
"I know you know what Christmas is," Doflamingo teases, looming over Crocodile with the sprig of mistletoe dangling from his fingers like a threat.
Crocodile grimaces. Doffy's right of course, he knows what it is. But that doesn't mean that he celebrates the stupid North Blue holiday.
Doflamingo does, though, and Crocodile is– reluctantly– his guest.
"I guess." Crocodile blows an annoyed puff of smoke from between his lips.
"Good! Get that cigar out of your mouth and pucker up, handsome!"
Crocodile grumbles and sneers, but he does it, and he lets Doflamingo dip him into a frustratingly enjoyable kiss.
Last updated: 01/01/2025