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Jan. 12th, 2005 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethorats posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
onepieceyaoi100Title: Certain Measures
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
“It’s your own fault,” Ben said conversationally.
“’s not.”
“Yes, actually it is. If you would just behave yourself when I ‘m trying to haul your drunk ass back to the ship, this kind of restraint would not be necessary. ... I think you’ve gained weight, by the way.”
With a sigh of relief he heaved Shanks off of his shoulders, dropping him onto the bed in the captain’s quarters.
“Oof. Have not. Yer just gettin’ old.”
“Whatever you say,” Ben called back as he headed for the door. His hand was actually turning the knob before Shanks yelled after him.
“Wait! Wait! You’re not just gonna leave me like this, are ya?”
Ben turned, studying the rather sorry state his captain made lying upon the bed. Shanks clearly had had too much to drink. His eyes were half-open and bleary, and a flush stretched over the bridge of his nose and reddened each cheek. A sash, Ben’s actually, bound his ankles, and his arm was similarly immobilized, stuck behind his back and caught by shirt sleeves tied at the cuffs. Overall the effect was quite pitiful.
“I was thinking about it, yes.”
“Be~en. C’mon. Ya didn’t have to tie me up.”
“Oh yes I did. The ass-grabbing I can tolerate, but when you kick me, especially in that region, I have to take steps.”
“Okay, okay. ‘m sorry. But you were squirmin’ and messin’ up my grabbin’ aim. I’ll behave now, so please?” The last was said in a particularly wheedling tone, and Ben shook his head in defeat as he moved over to the bed.
“Ankles first…Now my sandals…And the pants.”
Ben stopped, glanced back up into Shanks’ face. His eyes were still hooded, but now bright with lust.
“What about your arm?”
“Leave that. Makes things interestin’.”
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
“It’s your own fault,” Ben said conversationally.
“’s not.”
“Yes, actually it is. If you would just behave yourself when I ‘m trying to haul your drunk ass back to the ship, this kind of restraint would not be necessary. ... I think you’ve gained weight, by the way.”
With a sigh of relief he heaved Shanks off of his shoulders, dropping him onto the bed in the captain’s quarters.
“Oof. Have not. Yer just gettin’ old.”
“Whatever you say,” Ben called back as he headed for the door. His hand was actually turning the knob before Shanks yelled after him.
“Wait! Wait! You’re not just gonna leave me like this, are ya?”
Ben turned, studying the rather sorry state his captain made lying upon the bed. Shanks clearly had had too much to drink. His eyes were half-open and bleary, and a flush stretched over the bridge of his nose and reddened each cheek. A sash, Ben’s actually, bound his ankles, and his arm was similarly immobilized, stuck behind his back and caught by shirt sleeves tied at the cuffs. Overall the effect was quite pitiful.
“I was thinking about it, yes.”
“Be~en. C’mon. Ya didn’t have to tie me up.”
“Oh yes I did. The ass-grabbing I can tolerate, but when you kick me, especially in that region, I have to take steps.”
“Okay, okay. ‘m sorry. But you were squirmin’ and messin’ up my grabbin’ aim. I’ll behave now, so please?” The last was said in a particularly wheedling tone, and Ben shook his head in defeat as he moved over to the bed.
“Ankles first…Now my sandals…And the pants.”
Ben stopped, glanced back up into Shanks’ face. His eyes were still hooded, but now bright with lust.
“What about your arm?”
“Leave that. Makes things interestin’.”
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no subject
Date: 2005-01-13 04:05 am (UTC)I love Drunk!Shanks
(Crow: You mean you love Shanks?)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-13 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-17 02:02 pm (UTC)“Leave that. Makes things interestin’.”
LMAO.
Absolutely sober, I say.
Shin