Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A bell chimed, and Benn put down the books he was sorting. He swiftly stepped out from between the bookshelves and headed to the counter. For just a second, he glanced at the visitor in confusion, before his professionalism took back over.

“How can I help?” he asked, trying to ignore the fact that the man in front of him had been here during every single one of his shifts during the past two weeks.

Without missing a beat, a large encyclopedia was placed in front of Benn. “I’d like to return this,” the man answered.

Silently, Benn nodded and scanned the code on the book that was used by their library software. He already knew the book would’ve been returned well within the allowed time window, but he checked the dates nevertheless. Yep. There it was—yesterday’s date. This exact scenario had happened every time since he had first seen this visitor. He would borrow a book just to return it during Benn’s next shift. At first, Benn had thought it a coincidence, but when he brought it up with his coworkers, no one else seemed to remember helping this specific visitor. In fact, most didn’t even seem to recognize him at all, despite his distinctive red hair or the prominent set of scars across his left eye.

“Well, whatever,” Benn muttered under his breath. This visitor might have some strange habits when it came to borrowing and returning books, but he had never made Benn feel uncomfortable, so why waste time thinking about it? He placed the book on the metal cart behind him to sort when he got the time, and looked back towards his visitor. “Will you be borrowing a different book today, too?”

The redhead blinked as if Benn had caught him off guard, and turned his head to the bookshelf closest to him. “Yes?” he responded slowly, stepped to the shelf he was looking at, and grabbed the first book in front of him. “This one, please.” He placed it in front of Benn and dug in his pocket for his library card.

Slowly, Benn glanced from the man to the book. It wasn’t his place to judge visitors’ choices, though this one had felt closer to watching someone roll some dice, but… “The feminine urge to raise plants – the one true guide to gardening for housewives?”

“… What?” Benn pointed at the book, and understanding washed over the other’s face. “Oooh. Erm. Yeah, I should’ve at least read the title, huh?”

“Most people do that when borrowing a book from here, yeah.” He looked back down at the book. “Are you taking this regardless? Or do you maybe want to look for a book you might actually be interested in?”

The other man stayed silent for a bit – enough time for Benn to realize he had never bothered to remember his name, even though Benn had held his library card in his hands many times – before nodding. “You know what? Yes. Let’s get a book this time that I might read more than two sentences from.” He blinked. “Though I don’t quite know what book that would be.”

Benn smirked and stepped out from behind the counter. “Well, let’s talk about it then, Mister…” He trailed off.

“Just Shanks is fine.”

“Right. Then, Shanks, do you have a preferred genre? Or a topic you’re interested in?”

Shanks closed his eyes for a moment. “Hmm, pirates, maybe?”

“Alright, that’s a start. Anything else?”

“Action, probably? Like, not fight after fight after fight, but more… Exciting trips, new places with smaller challenges and stuff.”

Benn nodded and started walking towards the ‘adventure’ section of the library. “Okay. What about the setting? Historical? Fantasy? Sci-Fi?”

Catching up with Benn, Shanks shrugged. “I don’t know. Ships would be nice, so no Sci-Fi, I think. I guess dragons would be cool?” He leaned his head to one side. “Are there stories with both pirates and dragons?”

A soft chuckle escaped Benn. “Believe me, pirates and dragons aren’t even a strange combination.” He stopped in front of a bookshelf. “So, I have two specific books in mind that I personally really enjoyed.” He pulled them both out and showed them to Shanks. “This here with the compass on the cover is one of my favorite books overall. It’s called ‘A Navigator’s Logbook’ and is a combination of fiction and non-fiction. The author of the fiction part, Marina Wavecrest, took the actual logbook of the navigator Nathaniel Hale and gave his written-down experiences a fantastical twist. After each chapter, you can read the real parts of the logbook the story was based on.”

Shanks’ eyes grew wide. “Was he an actual pirate, too?”

“Sadly, no, he worked on a trade ship, if I remember correctly.” He held the other book up. “This one with the dragon is called ‘Islands of Mist’ and is pure fiction. It’s set in a very detailed and fleshed-out magical world, and focuses more on dragons and magic rather than ships and voyages. The main characters are a group of pirates who are chasing after a dragon egg that was stolen from them by a different pirate crew.”

Shanks took both books from him and took a closer look. “If I heard that right, you prefer ‘A Navigator’s Logbook’?”

“Yes. Though I would recommend ‘Islands of Mist’ if you don’t have a special interest in navigation or seafaring. Even the fictional story by Marina Wavecrest includes a lot of the technical details Nathaniel Hale wrote about. For someone not well-versed with these things, those parts might feel a bit dry.”

A grin appeared on Shanks’ face. “Well, I’m definitely taking the logbook one then.” He handed the other book back to Benn. “I haven’t gone in a while, but I used to sail a lot with someone I considered family.”

“Really? That sounds great. I’ve always wanted to go, but never got to it.” Benn put ‘Islands of Mist’ back in its rightful place and turned back to Shanks. “What kind of a sailing ship was it?”

“A full-rigged ship. I think it might’ve been a galleon or something? I’m not sure, to be honest – I’m no shipwright after all.”

“Oh, cool. … Wait, what? Full-rigged?” Benn stared at him in disbelief. “Did that person have an entire crew? You can’t exactly man a full-rigged ship with three or four people after all.”

“Yeah! There were quite a few people. It must’ve been at least 60, no, maybe 80, people, including me and another shipboy, as well as his second in command, with whom I still have close contact.”

“Wow…” Benn sighed quietly. “Well, I’d love to talk more about this, but I should get back to work. Should we go and put that book on your library card?”

For a split second, something akin to disappointment washed over Shanks’ face, but it was gone so quickly, Benn wasn’t sure if his eyes had betrayed him. “Right, right. We should.”

Back at the register, Benn added the book to Shanks’ card and handed both items back to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks!” Shanks turned to the exit, but spun around again immediately. “Sorry, this may be a weird question, but… Are you on this shift tomorrow too, Benn?”

How did he know–? Oh, yeah. He was wearing a nameplate. “I am, though, at this point, I had almost assumed you knew my shift plan. You know, considering my colleagues never seem to see you, but you’re always here when I’m working.”

“What? No! No, no, no, I definitely don’t! That’d be super creepy. I just come in every day during both shifts, check if you’re here, and if not, I leave again.” He halted in his tracks, and they just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Shanks nodded slowly. “Which I just noticed might also be a bit creepy or, at the very least, weird.”

Meanwhile, Benn’s brain was working overtime. This guy actually came here for him? For him, out of everyone? He just couldn’t comprehend how that could be the case. After all, they had barely spoken before today, and Benn didn’t exactly think of himself as conventionally attractive. Then again, everyone had their own types, didn’t they? Before he drowned in his thoughts, Benn shook his head slightly and shifted his focus back to Shanks.

“No, no, it’s fine. Surprising, but fine. You never seemed particularly creepy to me or anything.”

“Oh. Good. … Sooo…” Shanks trailed off, glanced around for a bit, and searched for Benn’s gaze again. “Would you be interested in meeting up sometime?”

Chapter Text

„You… you mean like a date?” Benn blinked a couple of times, his mind still racing from the unexpected question.

A single nod.

Benn took a slow breath. “Yeah. Sure. I’m free next Wednesday afternoon?”

Shanks’ eyes lit up. “Sounds good! Should we go get a coffee or something?”

“Alright.” He tapped on the counter, trying to bridge the slight gap while he was thinking of a place to go. “How about the café two blocks down the street?”

“Mug and Mirth?”

“That’s the one.” Benn’s gaze washed over the wooden surface in front of him until he found the note slips. He grabbed one, jotted down his phone number, and handed it to Shanks. “Here, just in case something comes up.”

“Nice! I’ll text you my number later, then.” For the second time today, Shanks turned toward the exit only to spin back around immediately. “I’m looking forward to next week. See you then!” With a last wave, he marched out of the building, leaving Benn alone with his tumbling thoughts in the otherwise empty library.

Benn sighed, leaned his elbows on the counter, and covered his face with his hands. He really hoped his face hadn’t been as red as it was warm. How did people deal with flirting if he could barely handle being asked out? He shook his head and looked at the bookcase he had been sorting. He should get back to work – surely that would calm his thoughts.

Within a few minutes, the bookcase was sorted, and the book Shanks had returned stood back in its place. Once again, Benn’s mind found nothing to occupy itself with but his last conversation. For a moment, he considered taking a smoke break, but his experience told him that was never a good idea when alone. Whenever the only staff member left the main room during slow times, like now – a Tuesday just after lunchtime – dozens of visitors seemed to materialize into place, as well as at least two trucks with new books that ‘happened to be early’.

His gaze fell onto the gardening book Shanks had grabbed first. He couldn’t help but smirk. Never would he have thought a book like this might get him a date, yet here he was. While he put it back onto its stand, the library door’s bell chimed as someone entered. Benn turned, ready to welcome a visitor, but relaxed when he saw Rowan, his coworker. He greeted them, glad to have someone to take his thoughts off the date, and checked the clock. “You’re early.”

They waved back and headed toward the staff room. “Yeah, a friend gave me a ride here before heading to work herself.”

“Sounds nice. Take your time changing; you don’t need to collect overtime during your first month here.”

They laughed and nodded. “Sure, though it feels weird being told that by the guy who everybody says has more overtime than all other staff.”

Benn shrugged. “I can’t even deny that.”

Still laughing, Rowan vanished into the back and reappeared shortly in their work shirt – a black polo shirt with the library’s logo on the back and front – and some non-ripped jeans. They leaned on the counter. “How has today been?”

“Pretty slow. Only had like 4 visitors so far.”

“Counting the phantom-visitor no one but you has seen so far?”

Rolling his eyes, Benn sat down on the office chair behind the counter. “He was here, and he is not a phantom. He is a real, visible human being, with a name and all. I even helped him choose a book.”

Narrowing their eyes, Rowan shook their head. “I’ll believe it when I see him. Also, you say he has a name, but every time I’ve asked you so far, you just said you didn’t check.”

“Because I hadn’t, but now I can tell you his name is Shanks.”

“Ohh! From no name to first-name basis? Still:” They shrugged. “You could’ve just made up that name.”

“And the computer logs?”

“Well… You know more about our systems than I do. You could tell me anything and I’d have to believe you. So, I’ll believe his existence if I see him myself.” Rowan snapped their fingers. “Why don’t you ask him to help out at the event in two weeks?”

Benn thought about it for a second. “We are still low on help, huh. I think I will ask him. He seems like someone good with people, too.”

“I look forward to meeting your phantom. Although…” Rowan frowned. “Are you sure you’ll see him again until the event?”

An involuntary smile appeared on Benn’s face. “Yes. Very sure.”

“Well, well, well. Someone’s optimistic.”

“I’d better see him again until then.” He contemplated telling Rowan why he was so sure, but decided against it. No one knew how a first date like this would end. Having a coworker ask questions about it later might turn awkward. “Anyway, I’ll go have a smoke if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sure, I got this – or I’ll come running to you, bawling my eyes out.”

Benn chuckled. “Please don’t. I’m bad at handling crying people.”

Exactly a week later, Benn stood in his bedroom looking at his open closet. He had successfully managed to get his thoughts off the date since it had been set. Okay, maybe he had had a slight ‘oh-my-god-it’s-actually-happening’ moment when Shanks texted him as he had promised, but mostly he had just gone about his day. Now, though, the evening before the real thing, all the thoughts he had pushed away were back to haunt him.

Right now, he was trying to figure out the daunting question of what to wear. Dating had never been a priority for him, so his only references were two high school dates he’d been on. With a girl he later noticed he’d never been interested in. Not exactly a great point of comparison. He sighed and glanced at his phone, lying on his bed. Should he give in and ask for help?

With another deep sigh, he plopped down on the mattress and unlocked his phone. A few taps later, Benn stared at his chat with Yasopp, a childhood friend. Knowing this would never end with just an answer text, he started typing.

‘Hey, do people expect you to wear something special to a first date?’

Yasopp started typing and deleted it again immediately. A short break, then the same thing again – typing, deleting, break. Benn almost expected the same thing a third time. Instead, his phone rang. He answered, but couldn’t get a single word in before Yasopp started talking.

“I want to know literally everything.”

Benn huffed. “And I want to know what clothes to wear, so I guess neither of us is getting what they want.”

“Oh, come on, you gotta tell me some stuff. Liiike, what kind of a person are they?”

“He’s… Actually, I don’t know him too well yet. It’s somewhat of a ‘get-to-know’ date.”

Silence.

“… You of all people are going on a date with a stranger? How’d you meet?”

There was honest surprise in Yasopp’s voice, and Benn decided to satisfy his friend’s curiosity. Not like he would get an answer to his question anytime soon if he didn’t. “He’s been coming to the library regularly. Last week, I recommended a book, we chatted a bit, and he asked me out. Nothing special.”

“Library patron, huh. Some quiet bookworm type guy then?”

“I… wouldn’t say that, no. He seems pretty outgoing. Almost to the point of loud?”

“Loud?! Benn, I swear my image of you is crumbling right now. Sure, we’re friends too, but a date? Totally different story.” He audibly took a breath. “Okay. Anyways. What are you doing for the date?”

“Getting coffee.”

“Oh, man, you should’ve led with that. Just wear one of your regular shirts with maybe some slightly more formal pants than your usual cargo pants.”

Benn snorted. “And you couldn’t have led with that?”

“Not without knowing it was a café-date! … Also, I wanted to know all the details.”

Benn smirked and shook his head. “Nosey much. Well, thanks anyway.”

“You better tell me how it went! And: You’re welcome. See you around, Benn.”

He huffed. “We’ll see about that. Bye.”

The call ended, and Benn let himself fall on his back. Yasopp’s words had reminded him of what he himself didn’t understand yet. Why did he say yes? Loud wasn’t his usual preference at all, not for a potential partner at least. But somehow, Shanks’ loudness had seemed inviting rather than annoying or even repulsive.

He sat back up and stretched. No use in dwelling on that now. He had agreed, and maybe tomorrow would give him an explanation for the ‘why’. For now, he should prepare everything for the next day so he won’t be late. After all, whether he understood it or not, he was looking forward to seeing him again.

Chapter Text

With a last glance at the time, Benn stepped into ‘Mug & Mirth’ and took a look around. He had passed the small café many times before, but today was the first time he’d come in. Small wooden tables with two to four cozy-looking chairs were scattered about, just far enough apart to give each table some privacy.

A few customers were around, but he didn’t spot the red hair he had been looking for. Well, not too surprising, considering he was 30 minutes early. He chose a table with two chairs closer to one of the walls to wait. He got himself a coffee and opened an e-book on his phone to bridge the time until the date.

“Is this seat taken?”

Shanks’ voice made Benn look up. He had been so immersed that he hadn’t even noticed the other approach. Putting his phone away, Benn smirked.

“That depends… Thane or Deena?”

“Deena”, Shanks answered, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. “Though I bet Thane’s more popular.”

“He definitely is.” Benn nodded to the other chair. “But I guess I can have a fellow Deena-appreciator sit with me.”

“Oh? For a second, I was worried you’d make me stand through the whole date.” He slid into the chair opposite Benn.

“Don’t worry, that’d be too awkward for the servers to always reach around you.”

Shanks laughed. “Lucky me.”

A server must’ve noticed Shanks sitting down, because they came over, shooting Shanks a polite smile. “Can I get you something, Sir, or do you need some more time?”

Returning the smile, Shanks nodded. “Well, that was quick, but I’ll take a chocolate float, and –” He looked at Benn. “How are we handling the bill? Splitting? Should I pay, since I invited you out?”

“Let’s each pay our parts for today.”

“Sure.” He turned back to the server. “Could you put that on a separate bill, then?”

“Absolutely. Can I get either of you anything else?”

Benn shook his head, and Shanks went ahead to answer the server. “That’s all for now, thank you.”

The server went to grab the order, and Shanks’ full attention shifted back to Benn. “Did you wait long?”

“No, don’t worry about it. I was over half an hour early; that’s not on you.” He checked the clock that was hanging over the café’s counter. “Besides, you’re still over five minutes early, too.”

Shanks’ head turned to the clock. “I am! Nice.” His eyes shifted to Benn. “I gotta admit, I’m not the best when it comes to being on time. If it’s important, I really try, but… Yeah, I get distracted easily.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. How far did you get with ‘A Navigator’s Logbook’? Got distracted there, too?”

“I finished it yesterday evening! It was a fun read. Honestly, I don’t know if I preferred the fictional or the nonfictional parts – both were great.” He tilted his head. “Do you have a favorite?”

“I’m partial to the real logbook.” Benn pulled his coffee cup closer, so his hands could be occupied with something. “Sailing has always been intriguing to me, though I’ve never actually gone, as I’ve mentioned before; Navigation and cartography in particular. Since my childhood, I’ve been trying to learn as much about it as I can. The storm part was super interesting, in my opinion.”

In the meantime, Shanks’ chocolate float had arrived, and he was nibbling on the waffle roll that had been stuck into the whipped cream on top. “Makes sense. That part was really cool. I loved how detailed Hale’s descriptions were, with how he, the helmsman, and the captain handled the ship and crew during the storm.”

Benn took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Exactly. You mentioned last time that you went sailing regularly. Have you experienced a storm like that first-hand?”

Eating a spoonful of ice cream, Shanks shook his head. “Not really. We went through storms, yes, but nothing as big as what Hale described, only small thunder or hail storms. Well, and rain, of course, but water is kind of expected at sea, be it from below or above.” He loaded some whipped cream on his spoon. “Is there a reason you haven’t gone sailing even though you want to?”

Benn shrugged. “Not really? I just haven’t gotten around to it, I guess. Taking breaks isn’t exactly my forte. Plus, I’ve never been, and I’m not sure how comfortable I’d be on a ship with just strangers.”

“Hm, that’s understandable. I have no clue how enjoyable the voyages would’ve been if I hadn’t been as close to everyone as I had been.”

“You think so?” Benn took another sip of coffee. “You seem like you make new friends quickly.”

Shanks laughed. “You say that, but it took me two weeks to even have a conversation with you.”

Benn raised an eyebrow. “To then ask me out during said first actual conversation.”

“True. I was really nervous about your response, though.”

“Were you nervous before today, too?”

Blinking, Shanks nodded slowly. “Of course. Anyone’s nervous before a first date, right?”

Lowering his gaze, Benn shrugged. “Probably?”

“What, were you not nervous?”

“No, I definitely was. … I still kind of am, honestly. I just…” Avoiding eye contact, Benn traced the rim of his cup with his finger. “I don’t have much experience with these things, so I don’t know what ‘normal’ is like.”

When he looked back up, his gaze was met by Shanks’ questioning face. “But even so, you gave me your time of day?”

Warmth crept up Benn’s cheeks, and he hoped it wasn’t visible. “You were – are… interesting.” He sighed. “I have no clue why I met with you. There isn’t any logical explanation. My friend was surprised too. Me? Going on a date with an outgoing stranger? It seems quite out of place for my usual self.”

“You mentioned me to a friend?”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure what to wear today and asked him for help. He has a fiancée, so I figured he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

A soft smile appeared on Shanks’ lips. “That’s kind of cute.” He stirred his drink. “Oh, and for the protocol: Just wear whatever you’re most comfortable in, unless it’s some fancy occasion. In my experience, most people won’t care about your clothes, unless you show up naked or something.” He grinned. “Actually, some people might not mind that either.”

“Including you?” The words came out before Benn fully realized what he had just said. He was about to take them back, but Shanks just laughed.

“Yeah. Though even I’d feel like that’d be a bit rushed at this point.”

This time, Benn was certain that his face flushed visibly. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing pulse. “That would be a bit… early, to happen on a first date, yes,” he mumbled – not that he knew when the correct time would be.

Shanks eyed him from the other side of the table, sipping his chocolate milk. “Say,” He wiped some chocolate off his mouth. “How often do I have to talk to you for you to respond like you just did without getting all flustered?”

“A billion?” Benn responded dryly, still not quite over his blunt outburst.

“I see. 999,999,999 times left. I should up the frequency of our talks if I want to get there soon.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Benn stared back at his coffee cup. “I’m sorry if my reaction was awkward.”

“What? No, not at all! It was endearing, actually. It’s just…” Shanks shot him a warm smile. “I’d prefer you felt comfortable rather than embarrassed.” He finished off the last bit of ice cream. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d love to keep working on the billion talks with you.”

Benn barely noticed the smile on his own face when he nodded. “Let’s do that, then.” His conversation with Rowan came back to mind. “Right, I wanted to ask you something.” Shanks motioned for him to go on. “Saturday, next week, there’s a small event happening in the library. We’re a bit short on hands, and I was wondering if you would help out?”

“Help? With what?”

“Considering you’d be volunteering, it wouldn’t be anything too difficult. Stuff like showing off flyers, keeping conversations going, or maybe reading to some kids.”

Blinking, Shanks shrugged. “Sure. Why did you want to ask me?”

“You seemed good with people, and…” Benn looked away and cleared his throat. “Also, at least half my coworkers don’t believe you exist.”

Laughing, Shanks shook his head. “As long as I don’t have to show up in a ghost costume. Send me the details via text, please, I won’t remember it otherwise.”

“Will do.” Benn finished his coffee and glanced out the window, where the sun was starting to set. “It’s gotten pretty late, huh?”

Shanks followed his gaze. “Yeah. I think the café closes soon, too. Maybe we should’ve come earlier.”

“Yeah. … When can I see you again?”

“Depends.” A smirk appeared on Shanks’ face. “Are you working tomorrow? Because I have a book to return, you know.”

With a chuckle, Benn gave him a single nod. “See you tomorrow afternoon, then.”

Chapter Text

Benn checked all preparations for what was probably the sixth time today and nodded. Everything seemed in place. The flyers about all library services and events were neatly sorted into their respective organizers, snacks and drinks stood ready, the corner for children’s book readings was cutely decorated, and the ‘Book-Blind-Date’-stand was covered in carefully wrapped books with small riddles and notes hinting at the actual book inside.

Silently, he went through everything else. He had reorganized the ‘Newest Additions’ section, all scavenger hunt hints had been hidden, and the small ‘Craft Your Bookmark’ station was ready to use. He sighed. Should he recheck it again, just in case? He turned to the flyers, but hands on his shoulders stopped him mid-movement.

“Benn, I’m begging you, stop pacing,” Rowan pleaded. “You’re making me at least 50 times as nervous as I should be.”

“Also, if you missed something the first ten times, you probably won’t notice the eleventh time around either!” Tasha, their coworker in charge of the bookmark craft station for today, called over.

Sighing again, Benn let Rowan push him towards a chair and let himself fall onto it. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop.” He checked the time. “The volunteers should arrive soon.”

“Right! Which means–“ Rowan clapped. “The phantom will finally be revealed!”

Benn rolled his eyes while Tasha immediately joined in with Rowan’s excitement. “Yes! I can’t wait!” She strolled over to talk more comfortably. “Avery was sooo upset he wouldn’t be able to meet Benn’s mysterious phantom-visitor when he called in sick yesterday. I promised to ask for a picture for him, though.”

Rowan crossed his arms. “I realized yesterday, but how were you so sure you‘d see him again until today, Benn? I mean, yes, the logs said he returned that book you recommended to him last week, but how’d you know he would read it fast enough?”

“I didn’t. We met up on the Wednesday before he returned it, so I knew I would see him then.” He shrugged. “And if anything, I could’ve texted or called him any time, since I have his phone number.”

Both Rowan and Tasha inhaled sharply. “No way!” Behind their backs, two people entered, but neither Tasha nor Rowan seemed to notice. Tasha stared at him with her mouth open. “Are you like… dating?”

A familiar red-haired head came into view behind her. “Dating might still be a bit of a strong term, I think.”

Shanks’ voice made Rowan jump. They let out a short squeak and hid behind Benn’s chair. They took a deep breath. “Goodness, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Laughing, Shanks pointed at the front door. “Coming in through the front, with the bell chiming, counts as sneaking?”

“Yes!” Rowan let go of the chair and stood up straight again. “Besides shocking things, like Benn possibly dating a phantom, are crucial news that necessitate my full attention.” They thought for a moment. “I mean no offense with the phantom part.”

“None taken.” Shanks shrugged. “Though I still wouldn’t call it dating, yet.”

“Yet!” Jules repeated immediately. They were a close friend of Rowan and had offered to help out today as well.

With a sigh, Benn shook his head and got up. “Right, but how about we come back to the more pressing matters for today?”

Shanks’ eyes glowed. “Exactly! Important things like ‘Are we getting name tags too?’”

“Something tells me you want one,” Tasha mused, her eyebrows raised.

Before Shanks could respond, Benn pulled out two labeled name tags from his pocket. “Lucky for you, I prepared some just for today.” He handed them to Shanks and Jules and watched amused as Shanks pinned it to his shirt as soon as he held it in his hand. “You really wanted a name tag.”

“Yeah! That’s like half the reason why I’m here.” He smirked. “The other half is the fact that you asked me to, of course.”

“It better be. Now, again, coming back to today’s event, we still need to decide on the specific tasks.” He looked around at everyone. “Tasha wanted to take care of the bookmark-crafting. That leaves one person for the children’s book readings, one person to monitor the scavenger hunt and ‘Book-Blind-Date’, and the others should probably be floaters for other questions, coffee refills, and stuff.”

Jules’ hand shot up. “I’ll do the scavenger hunt and ‘Book-Blind-Date’! I love, love, looove riddles.”

Benn nodded. “Alright.” He turned to Rowan and Shanks. “What about you two?”

Rowan tilted their head. “Well, technically, I’m better suited to being a floater than a volunteer, because of the question answering. … I’d kinda prefer the children’s book readings though.”

After a quick glance at the ‘Newest Additions’ and flyers, Benn turned to Shanks. “How high are the chances that you can remember the general information about our library and the new books over there within…” He checked the time. “30 minutes?”

Shanks scanned the flyer rack and book stand. “Pretty good, I’d say? I mean, I used to start studying like five minutes before tests, so 30 almost seems generous.” Shrugging, he grinned. “And if not, I’m pretty decent at improvisation.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Benn mused and gave Rowan a nod. “It’s settled then, you’ll do the children’s book readings.”

Tasha, Jules, and Rowan each went to their designated areas to familiarize themselves with everything before guests arrived. In the meantime, Benn tried to teach Shanks the most important things he should know. The library services, annual events, some facts about the new additions and their authors, as well as how to use the coffee machine in the back.

Shanks hadn’t promised too much. He already knew a lot of the general services their library offered, and memorizing the rest seemed hardly a task for him. The books and authors were a bit harder to grasp for him – neither Benn nor Shanks was really part of the target demographic for most of them – but he managed to remember the main aspects either way.

They decided that Shanks would stay closer to the front, while Benn would keep more to the counter. That way, Benn was closer to the computer if anything needed to be checked, and could basically function as an option for everyone to fall back on if they didn’t know something.

When the event had finally started and been running for a bit, Benn got an overview of the situation. Everything was going smoothly. Rowan read stories to kids, underlining their words with gestures and even props at times. Tasha’s supply of crafting materials was slowly being worked through, but they had four more boxes ready in the back. Jules had already been able to hand out some prizes to guests for finishing the scavenger hunt and had successfully matched up a handful of books with potentially suitable readers.

Out of everyone, Shanks had probably been the busiest. No matter when Benn looked his direction, he was constantly talking to guests. Whenever visitors seemed to have a question, Shanks managed to finish up his current conversation and talk to them instead, without fail. In a way, Benn appreciated it – he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly – but at the same time, he felt like dead weight. Half the event was over, but he had yet to contribute more than refilling the coffee.

Once or twice, Jules and Shanks came by with visitors whose questions they couldn’t answer, but Benn still felt like little more than a backup encyclopedia. Well, the guests were happy, at the very least. At some point, Benn started to do some computer work he had put off in the past weeks.

“Are you doing inventory right now?” Rowan was leaning over the counter, glancing at the screen.

With a quiet sigh, Benn nodded and looked to the now smaller groups scattered in the library. “Yeah. I don’t have much else to do.”

Following his gaze, Rowan looked towards Shanks, who was chatting away with some frequent visitors of the library as if he had been friends with them for centuries. Rowan shook their head. “I hope he works in marketing or something, ‘cause, damn, he’s good at making people take flyers with them. We must’ve used more flyers today than in all my time working here together.”

Benn smirked. “You mean, more than in the last month and a half?” He shrugged. “You’re right, though. I mean, I assumed he’d be better at entertaining guests than I am, but he’s outdone my expectations by far.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, Benn, but you don’t really come to mind when I think of someone social.”

“Fair.”

When the last guests had left and the event was formally over, they put up the closed sign, and everyone packed up their stations individually. Before getting a broom, Benn looked at the others. “I’ll sweep and wipe the tables; you guys can go home.”

“Are you sure?” Tasha looked at him with raised brows.

“Yes, I’m sure. The most productive thing I’ve done today was inventory. Let me clean up at least, so I feel like I contributed something to the event.”

She shook her head. “Something? Benn, you did like 90 percent of the organization for today. That is a crucial contribution.”

“That wasn’t today.” He shooed her towards the door. “Even if you’re right, just let me do this, okay?”

With a heavy sigh, Tasha shrugged. “Alright, alright.” She, Jules, and Rowan grabbed their things, said goodbye, and headed home.

Shanks tilted his head. “Can I wait until you’re done, or should I go, too?”

For a moment, Benn just looked at him, not sure how to respond. He nodded. “You can stay, just… let me clean by myself.”

“Will do.” Shanks smiled and leaned against a shelf, out of Benn’s way. “Man, I’m tired. Talking to this many people is exhausting.”

“And yet, you are still talking.”

“This is different, though. Talking to you doesn’t drain me.” He watched Benn sweep the floors. “But I can shut up, if you prefer?”

Chuckling, Benn shook his head. “No. Keep talking. Somehow, you’re endless chattering makes my silence feel quieter.” He halted for a second. “Not that that makes much sense.”

Shanks laughed. “Actually, I think I understand what you mean, in some weird, twisted way. Because talking to you never feels like a monologue, even if you don’t say a word.” He audibly took a breath and continued talking, while Benn kept cleaning. About his favorite foods and places, about how he’d always wanted to have a monkey, and about how he’d love to go sailing again at some point. About basically anything that came to his mind.

Some of the things he elaborated on he had mentioned before during their sporadic talks and calls since the date. Some things were completely new to Benn. A lot of the stuff Shanks talked about, Benn simply filed away in his brain as ‘neat Shanks-facts’. But, all in all, it didn’t matter to him what Shanks was saying. His voice alone let Benn forget about his worries and, be it for just right now, his brain stayed quiet. No unnecessary thoughts, no worry, no need to overthink.

Just peace and quiet.

Chapter Text

Benn sighed and rested his head against the chair. Today was just the worst. First, his alarm clock broke, and he had to rush, so he got to work on time. Then he was late anyway because an accident had blocked his usual path, and he had to take a detour. Then it started pouring, and his clothes were still drying, over four hours after he had gotten inside. And now, of course, the printer didn’t want to cooperate with him. If he hadn’t been an atheist, he would’ve sworn some random deity had cursed him out of spite.

He read through the error message for the fifth time in a row. ‘No cyan ink. Please refill.’ Nope. He still didn’t know why it was there after he had already refilled said cyan ink. Avery, who was on shift after Benn today, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Still no luck?”

“No…” Benn closed the error message and got up. He gestured at the computer. “You try, and if the issue persists, I guess, we’ll have to call the support…”

With a nod, Avery sat down on the chair Benn had occupied and clicked on print. A second of silence, then the printer started beeping and rattling as it usually did, and slowly but surely printed the file Benn had tried to print for over an hour now. “It’s just not my day, is it…?” Benn murmured, shaking his head.

Glancing between the now printed document and Benn, Avery squinted. “You wanna take a break, Benn?”

“Yeah. That may be for the better.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ll be outside the back if you need me.”

Taking a small detour through the staff room to grab a smoke and his lighter, Benn headed out the back door and took a deep breath. He glared at the grey clouds in the sky, hoping they wouldn’t burst into another shower. His clothes were still not quite dry, and the slight breeze wasn’t exactly warm, but as long as he didn’t get any wetter, he was positive it’d be alright.

He lit the cigarette, thankful that at least it had dried fully in the meantime, making his day just the slightest bit nicer. Inhaling deeply, he tried to push his negativity aside. With everything that had gone wrong already, at least, today couldn’t get any worse, could it? He shook his head. No, he really shouldn’t jinx it. If he had learned anything from today, it was that things getting worse was always an option.

The cigarette had long gone out when Avery peeked his head through the back door. “Hey, Benn, the not-so-phantom-anymore visitor is asking for you.”

Benn’s mood lightened. Maybe the worst was over after all. “Coming,” he answered, and followed Avery back to the counter.

He smiled at Shanks. “You have no idea how much you’ve just improved my day.”

Shanks’ eyebrows went up. “Oh? Don’t tell me your day’s been awful too? Because mine has been hot garbage. Well…” He grabbed a strand of his clearly damp hair. “More like wet garbage, I guess.”

“Tell me about it,” Benn grumbled. He looked at Shanks’ empty hands. “You’re not here for a book today, are you?”

“Nope, today is more of a… personal request.”

Benn glanced around the library. There didn’t seem to be any other visitors they would be bothering. “Do you mind if we talk here, Avery?”

“Not at all. It’s not exactly busy today.” Grinning, he leaned back in his chair. “Besides, Tasha talked about you two, so seeing you interact in person feels like watching a movie.”

Shaking his head about Avery’s last remark, Benn turned back to Shanks. “A request?”

“More like a favor, actually. You see, after I got drenched while getting my breakfast, and then got drenched again on my way back, I couldn’t get back into my apartment. Apparently, there was some kind of gas leak in front of the building that they had to fix. Sooo, I decided to wait somewhere else – just to get drenched a third time – and right when I didn’t know what to do next, my landlord texted.” He sighed deeply. “Long story short, the gas leak thing is going to take until 11 p.m. minimum. Most places I had considered to wait at don’t stay open that long, and the two people I would usually stay with during something like this left for vacation this morning.” He took another breath. “So, yeah… Can I stay at yours until I can get back into my apartment?”

“Sure,” Benn answered, immediately cursing himself for his quick response. Of course, he wanted to help Shanks, and the thought of having him in his flat was pretty exciting, but… When was the last time he had vacuumed? Cleaned the windows? Organized his sock drawer? … Okay, maybe the sock drawer wasn’t that important. The kitchen, though? He shook his head to organize his thoughts, in the hope he hadn’t blankly stared at Shanks for an uncomfortable amount of time. “My shift ends at three, so… Meet me back here then?”

“Thank you! See you in four hours.”

As promised, four hours later on the dot, Shanks was back. Benn hurried to get his stuff from the staff room, said goodbye to Avery, and they left the library. They had just exited the door when lightning flashed, and not long after, thunder roared. Cursing today’s luck once again, Benn stared blankly at the rain that started falling. He sighed. “I don’t have an umbrella with me, by the way.”

Shanks nodded solemnly. “Right. Umbrella.” He looked down at a small bag he must’ve gotten during the wait. “I bought some stuff in case the gas leak takes even longer, but an umbrella didn’t come to mind. How far away do you live?”

“I’m sorry to say, but far enough that we’ll be soaked. Completely soaked.”

Shanks shrugged. “Welp, what’s a fourth time in one day gonna do? Besides: Maybe it’ll clear up on the way…?”

Unfortunately, the rain did quite the opposite. Only two minutes after they had started walking, the rain intensified, now pouring down like it hadn’t in months. When they finally reached Benn’s apartment building – at least the accident from the morning had been concluded, so they didn’t have to take the long route – both of them were soaked to their bones. Feeling water drip from literally every inch of his body, Benn shivered in the cool spring wind, fumbling with his keys until he got the door unlocked.

Home at last.

Chapter Text

Reaching his flat, Benn’s first order of business was to grab two sets of dry clothes from his wardrobe. He would’ve loved to just take a shower immediately, but he couldn’t just leave Shanks in dripping wet clothes.

Handing one set of clothes to Shanks, he nodded towards the bathroom door. “You take a shower first. The towel next to the shower is freshly washed, so use that. Oh, and I hope the clothes aren’t way too big.”

“Eh, we’re not that different in size, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Shanks took the clothes and headed to the bathroom. “I’ll hurry up – wouldn’t want to make you wait too long in wet clothes either.” He closed the door behind him, and, moments later, Benn could hear water running. Shanks hadn’t promised too much. Within three minutes, he stuck his head back out of the bathroom. “Where should I put the wet clothes?”

“Just leave them on the floor. I’ll put them up on the drying rack with mine after I’m done.”

A moment later, Shanks stepped out, making room for Benn to shower. The hot water felt like a blessing, warming him up in an instant. He dried off, put on the dry clothes he had taken with him, and turned to the wet pile of clothing on the ground. His first thought was that they might not finish drying in time for when Shanks had to leave. His second thought was the fact that he was about to handle not just another person’s clothes, but their underwear as well.

He took a deep breath. Why did he even think about that? It was just fabric. Not just that: He literally wore the same type of underwear. So why was his brain trying to tell him that Shanks’ was something completely different? Shaking his head, Benn picked up the dripping clothes on the pile. One by one, he carefully wrung them out over the shower drain, getting out as much excess water as possible. He opened the drying rack that was mounted on his bathroom wall, hung up the wet clothes, and headed back out.

Shanks was sitting on the couch, his hair dripping on the slightly too large clothes Benn had handed him earlier. “You know, you could’ve taken a moment to blow-dry your hair.”

“Nope,” Shanks answered, shaking his head profusely. “You would’ve frozen to death before they would’ve stopped dripping.”

Raising a brow, Benn glanced at him. “I pay my electricity bills, and I don’t think anyone’s ever frozen to death in an over 20 °C warm flat.”

“That only means you’d be the first!”

With a chuckle, Benn shook his head. “Right. Do you want to do anything, or should we just keep talking?”

Shanks was kicking his legs off the edge of the couch, and he tilted his head in thought. “I’m fine with chatting, but if you have some kind of board game that might be nice to play during the conversation?”

Mentally, Benn went through all of his drawers and closets. “I have cards, dice, and a chess set.”

“Ohhh, I haven’t played a physical round of chess in years! Let’s do that.”

“Sure.” Benn got up to grab the board and shrugged. “I’ll warn you, though: People don’t seem to like playing chess with me.”

Five minutes later, Shanks folded his Hands in front of his face and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I get why people don’t like playing chess with you.”

Benn scanned the board. He was clearly in a winning position, yes, but Shanks was anything but a bad player. Not only had he managed to stay in the game longer than any other physical opponent Benn had had in a long time, but he had managed to corner him multiple times as well. Now, though, his loss was imminent. There wasn’t a single play Benn could think of that would turn around Shanks’ situation, except for a major misplay on his side. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up now?” he mused, earning an offended gasp from Shanks.

“Never! Sure, it’s checkmate in…” He checked the board. “Six moves if I play well and four otherwise, but you'd better expect me to play until the end. The only games I stop playing in the middle are games that involve throwing – I’m not a great shot.” He moved a rook and nodded to Benn for his turn.

Moving his knight, Benn smirked. “Are you really that bad with aiming?”

“Oh, no, the aiming part is fine. It’s the ‘hitting the target you aimed for’ that causes me trouble.” He laughed and took Benn’s last bishop. “I swear, if you put me inside a locked room, I’d still manage to miss the walls.” Halting, he squinted at the board. “Damn, I shouldn’t have taken that bishop. So much for playing well, huh?”

Benn moved his queen and shot him a smile. “Checkmate. You’re good at this, though.”

“Clearly not as good as you.” A grin lit up his face. “Wanna swap to dice games? Yahtzee, maybe?”

Shrugging, Benn packed away the chess figures. “Sure thing. I might even have some Yahtzee scorecards? Let me check.” He put the chessboard back into the drawer it had come out of, and opened the one below. It held a faux leather cup for rolling, about 20 dice, and, as he had hoped, a handful of empty Yahtzee scorecards. He took the cup, five dice, and two scorecards, laid them on the table, and grabbed two pens. “Do you want to start?” he asked, handing Shanks one of the pens.

Still grinning, Shanks shrugged. “If you’re offering?” He picked up the dice, put them into the cup, shook them, and then flipped them onto the coffee table. Three fours and two fives. A full house on the first roll. Against Benn’s instinct, Shanks picked up the fives and put them back into the cup. Furrowing his brows, Benn stared at Shanks’ endeavor. Sure, three fours were fine as is if the new rolls were wasted, but… He didn’t get to finish his thought because Shanks rolled the two dice, lifted the cup, and revealed two more fours. “Yahtzee,” he said, his grin even wider than before.

Well, a Yahtzee on the first turn was rare, but not unheard of. … The five more, on the other hand, were simply unheard of. Watching Shanks cross off another category with an above-average score, Benn huffed. “Let me guess: People don’t play a lot of Yahtzee with you, do they?”

Laughing, Shanks shook his head. “Once at most.”

“Understandable. Above-average rolls on every turn with six Yahtzees seems a bit unnecessary.”

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you ahead of time, too.” He glanced at his scorecard. “We don’t need to count, do we?”

“No, I doubt that will be necessary with you having literally 550 points in Yahtzees alone.” Benn thought for a second. He was seemingly better when it came to tactical play and memorizing strategies, but Shanks clearly held the upper hand when it came to luck – not that Benn had even considered that possible before today. “It may be a bit exotic to most, but do you happen to know the rules of Sailors’ Skat?”

“Ahh, I used to? Haven’t played in ages, though, so I might need a refresher.” He smiled. “That might actually be a somewhat fair game between the two of us, come to think of it.”

“I hope so.” The dice wandered back into their drawer, and out came the seafaring-themed deck of cards Benn had only gotten to use two or three times so far. He gave Shanks a quick rundown of the rules, placed the cards in front of them, and gestured at Shanks to start.

A handful of games later, Benn was sure that this game had been a great choice. After warming up with everything after the first two rounds, both of them had about the same success. Overall, Shanks’ hands were still better than Benn’s – no matter how that kept happening – but some tactical play could allow Benn to win now and then, as well. Of seven games, including the first two, Benn had won four: A good balance, in his opinion.

As Shanks turned over one of his last cards – of course, revealing the highest trump, the jack of clubs, which he had had in every game so far – but stopped mid-motion afterwards, when his stomach growled. “Sorry, I forgot to eat lunch,” he explained, shifting in his seat.

“No worries.” Benn glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind Shanks. “Looking at the time, we might as well get something for dinner after this game.” Thinking about the little contents of his fridge, he scoffed. “I have barely enough food left for one, not to mention two. We might have to order something.”

Chapter Text

Shanks‘ face lit up. “Yeah, I’m totally down to order something.” He furrowed his brows. “Are there people who wouldn’t be?”

Huffing, Benn shrugged. “I’m sure there is a person somewhere who’s totally against ordering. Do you have a preference for the food?”

“Hmm… Pizza?”

“Alright. What kind do you want?”

“Oh, right, I have to decide that.” Shanks let his body fall against the back of the couch. “Pepperoni,” he said, after just a moment of silence.

Nodding, Benn grabbed his phone from the coffee table and blinked at the screen. “Wait, you messaged me?”

Tilting his head, Shanks raised an eyebrow. “Huh? Oh, yeah! I did. Earlier today. Like, before I came into the library, but you didn’t respond.”

Benn took a moment to think back on his work day. He usually kept his phone close by, in case something came up, but he couldn’t recall checking it even once. Wait. He hadn’t taken it out of his wet clothes either. “I think I forgot to take my phone in the morning. It must’ve been lying on the coffee table the entire day.” He shook his head. “Sorry about not responding.”

Shanks just waved off his apology, and Benn went ahead to call their local pizza place to order. Twenty minutes and six games later, the doorbell rang. Before Benn could as much as say a word, Shanks jumped up. “I’ll get it!”

He answered the intercom, agreed to come downstairs to pick up the pizzas, and was out the door. Blinking, Benn stared at the door closing behind him. “I guess, I’ll get some plates ready…?” he murmured and headed to his kitchen and dining room. Two plates and glasses had just found their way onto the table when the doorbell rang again. For a moment, Benn wondered who had rung it now, but he quickly remembered that Shanks – obviously – did not have a key to his apartment.

Shaking his head, Benn walked to the door, opened it, and raised an eyebrow at Shanks, who looked like he had run down and up the stairs. “If you had told me you were starving, I would’ve gotten you some snacks for the wait,” he said, stepping aside for Shanks to come back inside.

“True, but I’ve already used your water and clothes.” Shanks laughed, the two pizza boxes in hand, and took a few steps past Benn. “Besides, I kinda forgot about being hungry because I was too engrossed with our matches.”

“The water and clothes really aren’t much… Anyways. I’ve prepared some plates in the kitchen. That way.” He nodded toward the room and followed Shanks, who hurried inside.

Shanks put down the boxes and opened the upper one. “Ah, four cheeses, that’s yours.” He opened the box fully, pulled one of the plates closer, and expertly maneuvered the pizza onto it.

Benn chuckled. “You’ve done this a couple of times before, huh?”

“What can I say? I’m not much of a cook.” He laughed and perfectly transferred his pepperoni pizza to the second plate. “In fact, I’ve managed to burn pasta while boiling it before – with water still in the pot!”

“How?”

He shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, but I have no clue either.” Shrugging, Shanks gestured for Benn to choose a chair and followed suit, right as he sat down. “My knife skills are pretty good, though! Salads are my specialty.”

Benn pushed Shanks’ plate to him and pulled his own plate closer. “So, you just don’t make hot meals?”

“Not quite.” Shanks took a bite of pizza. “I own a microwave and a rice-cooker! Oh, and I have previously succeeded in programming my oven to heat some frozen stuff.”

He looked so proud that Benn had to stop himself from laughing. “Good job?” he quickly pressed out in between some bites of pizza.

Grinning, Shanks picked up a new slice of pizza. “I know, it’s impressive, right?”

“Very.” Benn grabbed the water bottle that was standing on the table, poured himself some water, and looked at Shanks before putting the cap back on. “What do you want to drink? There’s some orange and apple juice in the fridge, and I have some sparkling water too, if you prefer that over still.”

“Oh, err. I’ll take the apple juice, thanks.” He pointed behind him, at the fridge. “It’s just in there?”

“I only have one fridge, so yes.”

A soft blush appeared on Shanks’ face as he quickly got up, turned around, and opened the fridge. “Right. Makes sense.” He grabbed the juice and closed the fridge door. As he sat back down and poured himself some juice, he nodded towards the open cabinet next to the fridge. On it stood Benn’s whiskey glasses, neatly arranged next to a bottle of his favorite brand. “You like whiskey?”

Benn nodded. “The earthier ones, especially.”

“Do you like the smoky ones too? Because I got a bottle at home that I’ll probably never drink.”

“Some of them? What brand is it?”

Shanks’ face went blank. “Great question.” He finished his slice of pizza. “There is a pony on the label, I think?”

“Cairnmane?” Benn’s eyes widened. “That’s some high-end stuff, if so.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds right, I think. Sooo, do you want it?”

“How long has it been open, if at all, and how did you store it?”

Shanks took a sip of juice. “I tried it, so it’s definitely been opened, though, amount-wise it’s basically full. It was gifted to me a year ago, probably? I kept it with my rum bottles, so you know. Dark, cool, standing upright.” He shrugged. “Nothing fancy.”

“I mean… If you’re sure you want to give me a bottle of whiskey worth at least 20,000 Berry like that for free, then I’m not going to say no, but… Well, I’m just saying it’s an expensive item.”

Shrugging again, Shanks finished the last bit of his pizza. “You can have it. It’s not like it feels special to me or anything, and I’d never finish that bottle – and that’d feel like a bit of a waste.”

“Then absolutely, I’ll take it.” Finishing his pizza, Benn refilled his water. “This may be a bit of a stretch in topic, but since we’re talking about price ranges: What do you do for a living?”

“Not much?” Benn raised an eyebrow at the answer, and Shanks laughed. “Basically, I don’t need to do anything, but, now and then, I do some freelance programming to kill time.”

“Large Inheritance?”

Shanks shook his head. “Not quite.” He emptied his glass and refilled it with some water. “It is from my family, but, yeah. Not exactly inheritance or allowance or something.” Under his breath, barely loud enough for Benn to understand, he muttered: “Feels closer to severance pay, really…” He waved his hand, and a bright smile reappeared on his face. “Well, whatever, the fact is, I don’t have to worry about money, probably for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, wow.” For a moment, Benn just let the information sink in. In a way, it wasn’t too surprising that Shanks didn’t work a regular job – obviously, he had had enough time to check the library for Benn twice a day – but he hadn’t expected him to be that kind of rich. Getting up, Benn reached for the empty plates and started doing the dishes. “What do you do during all of that free time?”

“Play games, draw, swordplay. Whatever I feel like, really.” He got up too, grabbed the towel next to the sink, and started drying the plate Benn had already cleaned. He grinned. “Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of books I’ve been recommended by a rather attractive librarian.” He tilted his head. “Library worker? What is your actual work title?”

“I am a librarian – I have a master’s degree in library and information science. The other ones are library technicians and library assistants, by the way.”

“Oh, so you have a higher position than they do?”

“Yes, they technically work under me, but in the end, we all do mostly the same work.” Benn shrugged and dried off his hands. “We’re owned by the city, so I don’t have to take care of hiring or payroll. Just things like developing our collection, making sure the metadata is in line, and inventory and stuff.” With the dishes clean and dry, they went back to the living room and continued their conversation there. “That aside, did you just say one of your hobbies is swordplay?”

Shanks’ eyes gleamed. “Yeah!”

What followed was a detailed account of how long and how Shanks had been training, about his weapon – a longer-than-average saber called Gryphon – as well as general information about swordsmanship overall. Not necessarily information Benn had been dying to get, but interesting nevertheless. Shanks’ excitement about the topic made it all the more enticing for Benn to ask even more questions, if just to see him get excited all over again about the next part.

Benn was so engulfed in Shanks’ almost palpable enthusiasm that he only noticed how dark it had gotten outside when Shanks’ phone buzzed and interrupted their conversation. He glanced at the clock and blinked. Almost midnight. He could’ve sworn they had ordered their pizza around six; how had it gotten this late?

A wave of disappointment washed over him. The notification must’ve been about Shanks’ apartment, which meant he’d be leaving soon.

Hesitantly, he glanced over at Shanks, trying to gauge his reaction, and halted.

Chapter Text

Shanks‘ expression could only be described as cryptic. It was somewhere between happy and frustrated as he silently stared at the screen of his phone. When he still hadn’t said anything after a moment of silence, Benn cleared his throat.

“I take it that’s something about your apartment?”

Blinking, Shanks looked up. “Right, my landlord messaged me. Erm, so… They managed to get the leak fixed temporarily, but they have to recheck tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean you can go back, or…?”

“Nope. They want us out until they’re sure it’s safe.” He lowered his gaze and put the phone back in his pocket. “I did remember to get some stuff for staying the night somewhere, but, erm. Can I stay here, maybe?”

“Sure.” Once again, Shanks had managed to get Benn’s mouth to work before his brain. Of course, he didn’t mind Shanks staying over; in fact, the thought of being able to spend more time with him brought back the warmth that the realization of Shanks leaving had disturbed. However, he lived in a one-person apartment. It wasn’t tiny for what it was, but it clearly wasn’t made out to house two people for more than a chat. He looked towards his bedroom. “You can use the bed, and I’ll go ahead and sleep on the couch.”

“What?! Absolutely not!” Shanks crossed his arms. “There is no way I’m throwing you out of your own bed! I’m the one intruding on your apartment, so I’ll take the couch. Besides–“ He gestured at the couch they were sitting on. “You’re too tall to sleep on here, anyway.”

Benn shook his head. “Hell no. I can’t make a guest stay on the couch.”

“Well, the only way I’m sleeping in the bed is if you’re sleeping there too, so that’s that.”

With a deep sigh, Benn massaged his temple. “My bed may not be as narrow as most single beds, because the length I wanted always came with more width too, but it’d definitely be tight with two adult men in it. Especially, considering you’re not as much smaller than me as you’re making it out to be the case.”

A short pause.

“Tight or impossible?”

Benn imagined both of them in his bed and tried to ignore the heat that was making its way into his cheeks. “… Tight,” he mumbled.

A wide grin appeared on Shanks’ face. “Alright. You know all of the options then.” His expression dropped, and he fumbled around with the hem of the shirt Benn had given to him earlier today. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer if I just got a hotel room somewhere. That’s always an option.”

“No!” Surprised by his own intensity, Benn took a deep breath. “No, I definitely wouldn’t prefer that.”

After just a second, Shanks seemed to regain his composure after Benn’s short outburst, and the grin reappeared. “Sooo, I’m sleeping on the couch then?”

“Who said that?”

Shanks blinked a couple of times and tilted his head. “No one, really? But I’m not budging on not letting you sleep on the couch. So… You know.”

Getting up and turning just the slightest bit away from Shanks to hide the blush that was surely dying his face at this point, Benn shrugged. “You said it yourself, that ‘tight’ wasn’t impossible and therefore an option, didn’t you?”

Silence.

Slowly, Benn looked back over his shoulder at Shanks. He was covering most of his face, but even so, Benn could clearly see the deep blush reaching as far as to the tip of his ears. Seeing Shanks this flustered almost made him forget his own embarrassment about the proposal he had just made.

Clearing his throat, Shanks removed his hands to fan his still red face. “I-I did say that, though I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d choose that option.”

Benn turned around fully and moved a strand of his hair out of his face. “I can always sleep on the couch, instead.”

“Nu-uh!” Shanks jumped up on his feet and poked a finger into Benn’s chest. “No going back on your word now! Besides, if anyone slept on the couch, it’d still be me.” His cheeks were still dusted with a pink hue, but at least they weren’t rivaling his hair color anymore.

Benn chuckled. “Well, now I’m definitely not giving you the satisfaction of winning that discussion.” He softly pushed Shanks’ finger away and nodded toward the bag Shanks had taken along. “You said you got stuff to stay the night, but are you still missing anything?”

“Got some pjs, a toothbrush, and toothpaste, sooo… I think I’m good?”

“Alright. How about you get ready first, then? I can get you a blanket and pillow in the meantime.”

“Sure.”

And off to the bathroom he was, just to come back out immediately because he hadn’t taken any of the things he had just talked about. Shaking his head, Benn went to his bedroom to prepare everything as promised. A pillow and blanket were quickly found and stuffed into their corresponding cases, but just laying them out onto the bed made Benn reconsider his earlier words.

‘Tight but not impossible’

His judgment hadn’t been wrong, but it might’ve still been a bit optimistic. They’d fit, alright. With their bodies touching constantly, that was. He sighed. There was no way he would back out now. Besides, they weren’t teens anymore. Surely they could both handle sleeping in the same bed without making it awkward.

“Whoa, your bedroom is waaay neater than mine,” Shanks commented, standing in the doorway. He was now wearing a pair of shorts as well as a simple, navy t-shirt with a white stars and moons pattern.

Benn raised a brow. “Is that a compliment, or are you just an unorganized person?”

Laughing, Shanks shrugged. “Both?” He glanced at the laid out bedding. “Honestly, I imagined it to be a tighter fit than that.”

Looking between Shanks and the bed, Benn huffed. “I’m pretty sure, if it were any tighter, we’d have to lie on top of each other.”

“Nooo, there’s still the ‘holding onto each other tightly’ stage before that.”

Benn blinked. “And you thought it was that?”

Shanks squinted. “Yeah, no, maybe it was just as tight as I imagined after all. Which side is yours?”

“The stuff I’ve been using is on the side closer to the door. If you prefer to sleep there instead, just swap the pillow and blanket while I get myself ready for bed.”

Shanks nodded, and Benn headed to the bathroom. When he got back to the bedroom, now in the shorts and grey tank top he slept in, Shanks was sitting cross-legged on the side of the bed Benn had gotten ready for him, typing on his phone.

“Can I turn off the lights?”

“Hm?” Shanks looked up. “Oh, yeah, sure.” He put the phone on the nightstand that was standing on his side of the bed. “Just had to answer a friend, so he wasn’t worried. He heard about the gas leak near my apartment and asked if I had a place to stay.”

“Oh, that’s nice of him to check up on you.”

Grinning, Shanks nodded. “It is, but I’m almost certain his fiancée made him ask. He’s not the type to catch wind of things like that leak.” He lay down and pulled the blanket up. “You can kill the light whenever.”

Benn flicked the light switch to the off position, and darkness filled the room. He lay down next to Shanks and got comfortable. Every now and then, one of them bumped the other and murmured a quick apology, but overall, it didn’t feel as tight or uncomfortable as Benn had worried. He was about to drift off to sleep when Shanks lightly tapped his shoulder.

“Are you still awake?” he whispered, continuing when Benn made an affirmative noise. “Can we switch sides after all?”

With a soft sigh, Benn sat up, grabbed his pillow and blanket, and walked around the bed. “Scooch over.”

It was too dark to really see, but some rustling told Benn Shanks had moved, and he placed everything back on the bed. He lay back down and jolted when he looked straight at Shanks, his face much closer than he had anticipated. Welp, that was it with his relaxation and almost falling asleep. Maybe he should just sleep on his other side today?

He tried, but it just didn’t feel right, and he turned back around. He considered asking Shanks to turn around, but even in his mind, that question seemed childish. When he had finally decided to ask anyway, still not much closer to sleep than before, Shanks’ regular breathing told him he had already fallen asleep.

“This will be a long night,” Benn whispered.

Resigned, he closed his eyes, willing the sleep to come – until it finally did.

Chapter Text

Benn scanned the street corner he and Shanks had decided to meet at for the now familiar deep red hair. He couldn’t spot him anywhere yet, so instead, he got himself an overview of the spring festival. It was an annual event held by the city with a main theme that switched every year. This year’s theme was ‘Masquerade’, which meant multiple stands selling all kinds of masks were scattered around the perimeter of the marketplace.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, and Benn jumped. With a sigh, he turned around to look at Shanks’ laughing face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Shaking his head, Benn huffed. “Of course you didn’t. Which is why you walked into my field of view and talked to me before touching me.”

“Exactly!” Shanks was still laughing as he looked past Benn toward the festival stands. “I don’t know yet what we’ll do, but priority number one is definitely getting masks.” He looked back at Benn and grinned. “That’s the main topic this year after all.”

Remembering the mass of texts Shanks had sent him when the spring festival theme had been revealed, Benn wasn’t surprised. Not that he particularly shared that excitement, but well. They had spent enough time with each other during the past weeks that he knew Shanks wouldn’t expect him to wear that mask the whole time – maybe even not at all. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to run around with a mask on until the sun goes down?”

“Nah. I wouldn’t mind wearing them just at the end, though?” He made puppy eyes. “For the masquerade ball and the fireworks, maybe?”

“Do I get to pick your mask?”

“Only if I get to pick yours!”

Benn smirked. “Okay, deal.”

As soon as the words were out, Shanks grabbed Benn and pulled him to the nearest mask stand. The variety of masks was impressive. From your typical half-masks that would never actually conceal your identity, over elaborate full-face masks modelled after animals and dolls, to almost helmet-like masks, covering face and hair completely, everything was in stock.

While Benn quietly studied the masks in front of him, Shanks took a more hands-on approach. He picked up masks that grabbed his interest, comparing them directly. In the corner of his eye, Benn could see him going back and forth, but he tried to ignore the movement. After all, he had to pick a good mask as well.

For a moment, a cat-like mask caught his eye – ears and all – but Benn pushed the thought aside. Sure, Shanks probably wouldn’t mind it, and it would certainly look cute, but… No.

He took another look at Shanks and blinked. He wasn’t quite sure how he hadn’t noticed so far, but Shanks wasn’t in his regular knee-length shorts. Instead, he donned long, black, almost suit-like pants over which he was wearing a slightly neater than usual white dress-shirt – well, for all Benn knew, it could’ve been the same shirt just ironed. His feet weren’t in sandals, but closed, black shoes, and even his hair seemed just the slightest bit more intentionally styled than usual.

Benn glanced back at the masks. He had chosen some slightly more formal clothes himself – a pair of dress pants he had kept around for more formal occasions and an ironed, dark gray button-up shirt – but Shanks seemed to have put in some extra effort for the occasion. He seemed so excited about the masquerade, Benn wanted to pick something more elegant for him. Something that would make anyone think he belonged at a fancy masquerade ball with just a single glance. Though… He stole another short glance at Shanks. He didn’t need much help looking that part in Benn’s opinion.

A sleek, black half-mask adorned with just a couple of well-placed black feathers and bits of golden lace caught his eye. It was just attention-grabbing enough to match Shanks’ striking hair, without overpowering it. In fact, it was perfect. Without much more consideration, Benn grabbed the mask and handed it to the vendor. Just as he finished paying, Shanks had made up his mind as well and handed his chosen mask over, together with the necessary payment.

They thanked the stall owner and headed further toward the heart of the marketplace. “So, are we keeping these a secret until the dance, or are we giving them to each other now?”

Shanks thought about it for a second before handing Benn the mask he had bought. “Now. I’m too impatient to wait till then.”

Chuckling, Benn took the mask Shanks was holding and handed his over instead. He inspected Shanks’ choice. It was a sleek black mask, with just the slightest hint of pattern through some black velvet lines and a couple of silver flourishes. An elegant choice that wouldn’t stand out, but wouldn’t seem cheap or plain if taken a closer look at. He turned to see Shanks’ reaction, just to find Shanks already looking at him.

“What do you think? Would you wear that for a dance at least?” Shanks’ voice had the slightest waver that brought a warm smile to Benn’s face.

“Yeah. I like your choice.” He put the mask into the bag he had brought. “But I’ll hold you to that promise of a dance.”

A bright smile appeared on Shanks’ lips. “I hope so. Oh, and can you hold onto my mask until then, too? I forgot to bring a bag.”

“Sure. What did you think?”

“Hm? Oooh, about the mask?” Benn nodded, and Shanks laughed. “I love it. It would fit perfectly for the male lead in some kind of Regency drama.”

Closing up the bag, Benn nodded. “That’s what I was going for. It needed to suit you, after all.”

Still laughing, Shanks shook his head. “I don’t think I can rival the Regency-drama male leads in looks, but I appreciate your compliment.”

“What are you talking about?” Benn stopped. “Of course, you can rival them. Sure, most of the time they’re clean-shaven, but other than that? If you shave and wear some fancy-looking clothes, you could easily pass as a drama’s male lead.”

Shanks halted as well and turned around, looking back at Benn. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: I do think I’m good-looking, but… Not on that level.” He grinned. “Though you’re more than welcome to try and convince me otherwise.”

Benn huffed. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.” He shrugged and closed the distance to Shanks. “But, well, you’ll realize I’m right at some point.”

Turning back to the direction they had been walking, Shanks laughed. “We’ll see.” They continued their stroll over the festival grounds, and Shanks gestured to Benn’s hand. “By the way. I understand why you brought a bag, but why the umbrella? The weather forecast said it’d stay as clear as it is right now.”

“Mhm. They also said it would stop raining after 11 a.m. a week ago, and I’m sure you remember where that got us.”

Shanks didn’t miss a beat. “Your bed?”

With a soft laugh, Benn shook his head. “No, the shower. My bed was technically the gas leak’s fault, not the rain’s.”

“Ah, right! My bad.” His gaze locked onto something across the market. “Oooh, let’s go look at that!”

Before he had even finished his sentence, he was already pulling Benn along to whatever stand had grabbed his interest. The chat he had had with Yasopp before their first date came back to his mind. Shanks’ outgoing, almost impulsive nature was not something Benn usually got along with well – but just like now, Shanks seemed to tug him along with just the right amount of force so he could check his footing before each new step.

Chapter Text

Shanks finally stopped next to a game stand. He took a closer look and sighed. “Aw, damn. It’s a shooting one. I was hoping for a tombola or guessing game.”

Trying to ignore that Shanks was still holding on to his hand, Benn scanned the stall. “Do you want one of the prizes?”

“Yeah, I kind of want that teddy over there.” He pointed at what Benn could’ve sworn was the most cursed-looking teddy he had seen in his life, and shrugged. “Welp, can’t help it. I’m as bad at shooting as I am at throwing balls.”

Benn double-checked the points needed for the plushie – seven out of ten. He scoffed. At least it wasn’t the main prize. Someone was currently trying their luck with varying success, but from what Benn was seeing, the game itself didn’t seem rigged. When they were done, he stepped closer and put down the 200 Berry needed for ten shots.

The vendor shot him a friendly smile. “Ah, I see, you’d like to give it a shot, mister?” Benn nodded. “Alright then, here are the rules, just as a reminder: You have ten shots and ten shots only; the targets will start moving around over here once I press this button; all flipped targets award one point. Any questions?”

“Can you choose a prize that’s worth fewer points than you got?”

With another polite smile, the vendor prepared the ten shots in the toy gun and nodded. “Oh, yes, of course. As long as the prize isn’t worth more points, that’s fine. However, you can still choose just one prize per try.”

Benn nodded again and picked up the toy gun. “Alright. I’m ready whenever.”

“Here we go!”

The vendor pressed the aforementioned button, and small, moving targets popped up on the track he had pointed at earlier. They were shaped and painted like colorful piñatas and wobbled around a bit to make them harder to hit – not that they felt like too much of a challenge for Benn. During their school time, Yasopp had dragged him and their mutual friend, Roo, to every type of shooting game he could find. Of course, though neither Benn nor Roo was a bad shot, Yasopp had won them all. It had caused Roo to coin Yasopp's nickname as ‘Chaser’, since it felt like all his shots and throws were following their targets by themselves.

Now, Benn silently thanked his friend for having inadvertently trained him in these types of games. Ten shots and ten hits later, the vendor and Shanks were applauding his perfect score as Benn gave back the toy gun.

“Impressive!” The vendor put the gun away under the table and pointed at the wall of prizes. “It seemed like you had your eye on something specific already, so just say the word and it’ll be yours.”

He pointed at the top left corner of the shelf. “That teddy over there, please.”

“This one?” The vendor picked it up and held it closer to Benn, his expression clearly showing he thought it was a strange choice.

“Yes, the… interesting looking one.”

“Ah, yes, it is quite… peculiar, isn’t it?” He handed Benn the teddy and shot him another polite smile. “Well, in any case, I hope you’re happy with your prize, and thank you for playing.”

“Thank you, have a nice rest of the day.” The teddy in hand, Benn stepped a few meters away from the stand and turned to Shanks. He shoved the teddy towards him. “There you go. One questionable-looking teddy, just for you.”

Shanks’ eyes grew wide as he took the teddy from Benn’s hands. “Really?! Thank you so much, Benn!” He took another look at the teddy. “It’s just as ugly as I had hoped.”

Blinking, Benn looked from Shanks to the teddy and back. “So, you agree that it’s ugly?”

“Oh, absolutely! This teddy looks like it's been through a splatter movie just to run into a crazy professor to sew him back together – and I love it.” He laughed and tucked the teddy underneath his right arm. “It’ll go perfectly with my collection of slightly misshapen plushies at home.”

Benn raised his brows. “Now I want to see that collection.”

With a smug smile, Shanks winked at him. “You’re welcome to visit me anytime. Just say the word and I’ll make time for you.”

Feeling his cheeks begin to flush slightly, Benn adjusted the strap of his bag and took a deep breath. “You’re too good at this,” he mumbled and earned another laugh from Shanks.

“At what? Flirting? Because, if that’s what you mean: I’m holding back.”

Benn furrowed his brow. “You are? Wow. Then again…” He lowered his gaze and smiled. “I really appreciate how you seem to slow down to match my pace.”

A warm hand grabbed Benn’s, and when he looked back up, he saw a soft smile on Shanks’ face. “You’re making it sound like I’m doing everything, when I’m really not. It’s true that I’m going slower than I maybe could, but I’m not just dragging you along. In my opinion, you’ve been trying to match my tempo just as much as I’ve been trying to match yours.” He intertwined his fingers with Benn. “If I had felt like you weren’t going forward with me like you have been, I would’ve stopped pursuing this. Because, in the end, what I’m looking for is a partnership, not a toy.”

For a moment, Benn worried the pounding of his heart would drown out every single thought he could have. But when Shanks’ fingers were about to slip out of his hand, that didn’t matter. Without as much as thinking about it, he tightened his grip.

The warm smile on Shanks’ face grew wider. “See? You could’ve just let go, but you decided to hold on.” He moved his fingers slightly to stroke over the back of Benn’s hand. “And as long as you’re willing to do that, I’ll keep doing the same.” His eyes shifted to something behind Benn. “In the knowledge that this might ruin the mood: Can we go get some chocolate-covered fruits over there?”

Benn followed his gaze to a pink stand in which a kind-looking lady was selling different fruit skewers covered in all kinds of chocolates and sprinkles. “Sure.”

This time, Benn was the one to turn around and lead Shanks to the stand, and he didn’t miss Shanks’ smirk as he pulled him through the crowd. Maybe he really was more forward than he had thought he was, or maybe Shanks’ presence was what gave him the motivation to come more out of his shell. No matter what, their hands stayed intertwined, even until after Shanks had asked for a large strawberry skewer with milk chocolate. When he had to pay, instead of letting go, he wordlessly handed Benn the teddy he had still been hugging tight, to pay and eat with the other hand.

A partnership – that’s what Shanks had said he was looking for with him. Benn had never before actively searched for one, but maybe now, maybe with Shanks, it was time to change that.

Chapter Text

Time flew while they strolled across the market, checking out the different stalls and performances. It was only when Benn started to get hungry that he noticed how late it had gotten. He checked the clock tower that stood on the market as part of the city hall, and stopped.

“Whoa, we’ve been here for almost three hours?”

“Hm?” Shanks followed his gaze. “Oh. Seems like it. Do you have somewhere to be?”

Blinking, Benn looked at him. “What? No. Why are you asking?”

“Well, you randomly looked at the clock and seemed pretty shocked about the time.”

Benn lightly squeezed Shanks’ hand, which he was still holding onto. “It’s just that I usually have a pretty good grasp of how much time has passed, so I was a bit startled.” He shot him a smile. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now, actually.”

His stomach rumbled quietly, getting a laugh out of Shanks. “You sure? Because it sounds like you’d rather be at a food stall right now.”

Avoiding eye contact, Benn shrugged. “Well, food is a great idea, but if you weren’t there, I’d still prefer being here with you.”

“It’s your lucky day then, because I fully intend to follow you around for the rest of this festival.”

“Lucky me, indeed.” Benn scanned the area for food stalls and nodded to a mid-sized one selling various hearty skewers that didn’t have too much of a line going on. “Let’s go over there, maybe?”

“Just lead the way.”

They both chose some beef-and-vegetable skewers and decided to sit down at one of the small tables scattered around the perimeter of the marketplace. Shanks had taken a small fork with him, which he now used to pull everything off the actual skewer and onto a paper plate. He separated each piece of bell pepper from the other vegetables and the meat before proceeding to eat everything but them.

Already on his second skewer while Shanks was barely starting with his first deconstructed skewer, Benn raised a brow. “Not a fan of bell peppers?”

Shanks shook his head. “I only like the green ones.”

“The… the green ones? You mean, you don’t like the riper bell peppers most people enjoy, but instead the more bitter ones that more people dislike?”

“Yeah!” He pushed another piece of orange bell pepper that he had missed out of the way. “I only like the taste of bell peppers if there’s some bitterness to them.”

Benn smirked and started on his third skewer. “Just give them here when you’re done, then. I’ll eat them.”

“Alright.” He pulled the next skewer’s contents off the stick. “Do you have foods you don’t like?”

With a nod, Benn started grabbing the pieces of bell pepper off Shanks’ plate by sticking them on one of his now-empty skewers. “Artichoke, white beans, and Brussels sprouts. Though the latter, I will still eat if put in front of me – my parents really like them, so we had them pretty often during my childhood.”

“Artichoke, huh?” Shanks finished his last piece of zucchini. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten artichoke before. How does it taste?”

“Awful?”

Laughing, Shanks pushed the plate that now only held the pepper bits closer to Benn. “How descriptive.”

With a shrug, Benn picked up some more peppers. “I guess you could call it bitter and earthy? I don’t know. It has this horrible aftertaste, too.” He shivered. “Yeah, I just really don’t like it.”

On the main plaza, organizers were making the first preparations for the dance that always concluded the festival. Some decorations were moved aside to make more space on the future dancefloor, speakers were put up around the perimeter, and a stage was being set up on one side. It would hold the cities’ symphonic orchestra that always played live music for the hour of the last dance.

Shanks was watching the preparations as well, resting his head on one hand. “You know, this will be the first time I’ll actually dance during the festival.”

Benn had finished the pepper pieces and was folding up the paper plate around the skewers to throw away. “Same here. I usually visit every year, but I’ve never danced. Well, then again, this is the first time I’ve come with someone I’d dance with.” He smiled. “Someone I will dance with, in fact.”

Grinning, Shanks looked back at him. “You’d better after promising me! Oh, and no forgetting the mask, either!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He got up and threw their trash into a nearby bin. “You want to wander around a bit more until the dance starts?”

In a heartbeat, Shanks jumped from his seat and was back next to Benn. “Yes!”

Slowly, the stalls around them closed up. More and more old-fashioned lanterns replaced electric lights, and the atmosphere shifted to what felt like straight out of a fairy tale. Benn couldn’t recall ever immersing himself in this atmosphere – but now, strolling around with Shanks next to him, knowing they would dance in a matter of minutes, it was as natural as breathing.

Every now and then, Benn noticed a musician heading to the stage or one of the hired dancers, who were supposed to make it easier for people to join the dance, already in their costumes and masks. The closer the time for the dance drew, the faster Benn’s heart beat. He was generally confident about his dancing skills – he had had some classes in school – but dancing with someone he was interested in was a completely different topic.

Trying to push his nerves aside, Benn turned to Shanks. “Can you dance, by the way?”

“Which part are you talking about? Male or female?”

“Either.”

“Ah.” Shanks grinned. “I can do both.”

Blinking slowly, Benn stared at him. “Then, why did you ask which part?”

“Just cause.” With a shrug, Shanks stepped aside to let someone else pass him more easily. “Also, that could’ve told me which part you want to dance.”

“I’m more comfortable with the male steps, to be honest, but I technically know how to do the female steps as well.”

“Alright. I’ll dance the female steps, in that case. It’ll probably look better that way around anyway, considering you’re taller than me.”

On the stage, the musicians were warming up, and Benn looked around for a place they could put down their things during the dance. “Let’s do that. Have you seen anywhere we could leave my umbrella and bag, and your teddy?”

Shanks pointed at a stall they had just passed. “I think that stand over there is currently being transformed into some kind of ‘cloak room’?”

“Oh, you’re right. Let’s leave it there then.”

When they were done dropping off their stuff sans masks, the finishing touches were just being made around the dance floor. He glanced at the sleek mask in his hand and took a deep breath. As soon as he had put the mask on his face, Shanks held out a hand.

A warm smile lit up Shanks’ face. “Try not to overthink it. Nothing is riding on this but my toes – and I’m pretty sturdy.”

Huffing, Benn took his hand and followed him more into the open. “You make that sound way easier than it is.”

His first steps to the music felt clunky, especially compared to Shanks, who seemed to float across the dancefloor as elegantly as some of the hired dancers. But, step by step, Benn started to relax, and leading became easier, until he barely had to think about it anymore. The first song ended quicker than he could’ve imagined, as Shanks softly shoved him off the dancefloor to a quieter corner.

“You know,” Shanks said, his fingers once again intertwined with Benn’s, “This was the best birthday I’ve had in a while.”

For a second, Benn’s brain couldn’t comprehend the words that had just left Shanks’ mouth. “Wait, what?! Today’s your birthday…? Why didn’t you say anything? I don’t have a present or anything. I haven’t even congratulated you!” He sighed. “Happy birthday, Shanks.”

Chuckling, Shanks stepped in front of Benn. “Thank you – and, by the way, what do you mean, you don’t have a present?” He gestured at Benn and the dance floor. “You spent the entire afternoon with me, won me a teddy bear, and even danced with me. With a mask on, too!”

Benn shook his head. “No, that’s not the same. I didn’t do any of these things specifically for your birthday.”

With a theatrical sigh, Shanks shrugged. “Alright then. This is what I want for my birthday–” The warm smile from earlier reappeared. “A second dance!”

Chapter Text

As much money as Shanks apparently had, it was barely visible in his apartment. Sure, one or two items struck Benn as expensive, but most things could’ve been found in any other flat.

Shanks closed the door behind Benn and gestured around. “Make yourself at home.” He glanced at a door to the far left. “Well, except for my bedroom for now, maybe. I may have forgotten to clean that up.”

“You cleaned up before I got here?” Benn raised a brow at him.

“Yeah… I’m not the most organized person, usually, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.”

They sat down on the couch, chatting and catching up on what they’ve been up to since the festival. It had been some weeks, and while they texted, and Shanks had come by the library now and then, Benn had been too busy with a new catalogue at work to have a longer talk. After a while, Shanks cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna get something to drink, do you want anything, too?”

Getting up too, Benn nodded. “What do you have?”

Shanks led him to the kitchen and smirked. “Depends. Alcoholic or not?” He opened a cupboard to the left of the fridge and revealed a home bar stocked with various alcoholic beverages. Next, he opened the fridge. Different types of juice, some lemons, limes, and oranges, a few sodas, and barely any food – Shanks had clearly meant it when he said he avoided cooking. “I’m fine with either, so it’s your choice.”

Benn scanned the options, and a dark glass bottle with a black pony on the label caught his eye. He pointed at it. “Oh, that’s the bottle of Cairnmane you mentioned before, is it?”

Closing the fridge, Shanks looked at what he had pointed at. “Ahhh, yes. Sorry that I haven’t managed to get it to you yet.” He blinked. “Actually, do you want to try it first? To see if you like it?”

“Sure, just don’t pour too much.”

Shanks grabbed the bottle and a glass from a different shelf and smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to get you drunk either – though I can’t say I’d mind having some drinks together.”

Benn watched him pour the whiskey and accepted the filled glass. As promised, it held just enough of the dark amber liquid to get a good idea of the taste. He lifted the glass to his nose and gave a small nod, when the first smell that hit him was a distinct smokiness instead of the scent of alcohol. Promising. Carefully, he took a sip.

After a first burn, the sting of the liquor quickly mellowed out into a deep, almost earthy, smokiness. It lingered for a while, and a faint sweetness settled in, together with a comforting warmth.

“Huh, that’s a lot smoother than I expected. This is 40 % though, isn’t it?” A silent nod by Shanks proved him right, and Benn finished the rest of the glass. “I like it. It is quite smoky, though, so I totally get why someone might not enjoy it.”

Shanks took his empty glass and placed it in a dishwasher. “Yeah. Plus, I don’t even like a lot of smoked foods, already, so this is way too smoky for my taste.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep!” He shrugged. “I guess smoke’s just not my thing.”

“Do you mind smoking, too?” Benn didn’t mean to make the question sound deep, but a part of him still worried for Shanks’ answer.

A soft smile graced Shanks’ lip. “Not at all.” He tilted his head. “You smoke, right?” Mentally, Benn went through their past conversations and chats. Had he ever smoked in front of Shanks? No. Had he mentioned it? He didn’t think so. Was it the smell? Maybe. Like reading his mind, Shanks chuckled. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop. I saw a pack of cigarettes lying around in your flat. That’s all.”

“Right.” A heavy weight seemed to have lifted off his shoulders, as he nodded. “That makes sense.” Benn hadn’t realized how much this topic had bothered him until now. Perhaps, they should’ve talked about this earlier. Then again… If Shanks didn’t mind anyway, maybe it didn’t really matter when they had had this conversation.

“Seems like I have to correct myself.” Shanks shrugged again. “So, I suppose, I just don’t like smoky things in my –“ He stopped himself, and a corner of his mouth twitched. “Consume’s more accurate. I don’t like to consume smoky things.” It was pretty clear what word Shanks had omitted. The thing Benn didn’t know was whether he was joking or teasing. Clearing his throat, Shanks pointed at the cupboard behind him. “About sharing some drinks – would you be up for it? We got enough mixers to keep it light.”

“Two conditions. One, we get some food to go with it. Two, you mix me your favorite drink.”

Shanks’ eyes were practically glowing, but a sly grin adorned his face. “Can I add conditions, too?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. So, for one, we’re having the lasagna from my freezer, which a friend made me, so I didn’t always just eat takeout. And for two, only if you try to guess the ingredients, and also make me your favorite drink to guess in return.”

“Can I heat the lasagna in the oven instead of the microwave?”

Laughing, Shanks nodded. “Absolutely – if it still works that is.” He pressed a button, a beep sounded, and a light turned on. “Looks like we’re good to go! I’ll get the lasagna.”

A few moments later, the oven had been programmed, the lasagna was defrosting, and Benn was back on the couch waiting for Shanks to bring out his drink. It didn’t take long for him to put down a glass in front of Benn. It was filled halfway with a dark brown, almost black liquid, and Benn furrowed his brows.

“Cola? Why half a glass?” He smelled the drink and coughed at the surprising amount of alcohol that hit his face. “I take that back. Half a glass might’ve been a good call.” He took the tiniest sip and slowly turned to Shanks. “Don’t get me wrong. The rum’s pretty good, but… Why even put cola into this? At this point, you could drink it neat.”

“Well, first, you’re correct, this is rum and cola, and second, I usually do, but we’re doing mixed drinks, so that wasn’t an option.”

Shaking his head, Benn emptied the glass and got up. “Not sure if this qualified as a ‘mixed drink’. I’m pretty sure you got the ratio the wrong way around.”

Grinning, Shanks shook his head as well. “Nope, that’s just how I drink it. Before you ask again, though: The cola’s just in there for the fizz and caffeine.”

“Ah, so not being able to taste it was intentional, huh? Alright then.” Shaking his head a last time, Benn headed into the kitchen to fulfill his side of their deal. He checked on the lasagna while he was at it, but it wasn’t quite ready yet, so he only filled the prepared glass with his drink of choice and brought it back to Shanks.

Staring at the amber liquid, Shanks smelled it and grimaced. “Should’ve known,” he murmured. Side-eyeing Benn, he sighed. “But, I will still drink it. Be it only not to lose without a fight.” He sipped at it, as if he had been handed poison, his brows drew together, and his expression shifted. “Hey, this isn’t too bad. It’s still really smoky, but the ginger ale makes it bearable. … It is just the Cairnmane and ginger ale, right?”

Benn nodded. “I’m pretty sure I can make this for you with a different whiskey, and you’d enjoy it.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens.” He emptied the glass and narrowed his eyes. “But now the score’s one to one – that’s no fun. Let’s do another round! Anything goes.”

Shrugging, Benn leaned back. “Surprise me.”

Grinning, Shanks disappeared into the kitchen and returned just seconds later – a glass in hand, that looked suspiciously similar to the first round.

Benn blinked slowly and took the glass. “This isn’t just straight rum again, I hope?”

Pouting, Shanks crossed his arms. “There was cola in the first one!”

“Sure. The last drops you found in an already empty bottle?”

“No! It was at least ten milliliters! Maybe even twenty!” Benn stared at him blankly until Shanks nodded once. “Okay, yeah, I see what you mean. This one definitely counts as a mixed drink, though.”

“I’ll trust you.” Benn took a sip. There was still the distinct warmth of a high percentage liquor, but this time, he could actually taste the cola as well as a refreshing, citrusy note that the previous drink certainly had not had. He smirked and looked at Shanks. “Was this just proving to me that you know the correct ratio of a Rum and Cola, but you wanted to make it different, so you added some lime?”

“Ooor maybe I just like Cuba Libres?” He shrugged. “Well, no, you kinda nailed both the explanation and ingredients.”

Putting down his half-emptied drink, Benn got up. “The lasagna should probably be ready now. Let’s get it before I make you your second drink.”

Shanks nodded and headed to the kitchen with him. He opened a cupboard door and took out two plates, while Benn turned off the oven and retrieved the lasagna. It seemed to be nicely heated all the way through, and the cheese on top had browned just the right amount. If Benn had to guess, he’d have said the lasagna had been specifically prepared to be reheated in an oven. Considering that Shanks had said his friend made it for him, that friend was an absolute keeper.

“Oh, hey, it didn’t even burn on top!”

Slowly, Benn turned to him. “Are you about to tell me, when you proudly told me you had programmed your oven to reheat something in it before, it was burned on top?”

Splitting up the lasagna between their plates, Shanks avoided his gaze. “Just a tiiiny bit…” He put a fork with each plate and picked them up. “Do you want to start eating first or make the second drink?”

Benn looked at the steaming portions of lasagna. “As delicious as that looks, I’d prefer to keep my tongue unburned – I’ll make your second drink first.”

After he had finished his mix, Benn rejoined Shanks on the couch, who was currently glaring at a piece of lasagna as if it had betrayed his eternal trust. “Hot?” Benn asked and put his drink down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, you were right…” He swapped out the plate for the glass Benn had brought. Tilting his head, he studied the pinkish liquid inside before drinking. “Hm. A Vodka Cranberry with not quite enough cranberry juice?”

Waiting for the piece of lasagna he had put on his fork to cool down, Benn shook his head. “Not quite. Do you want another guess?”

“Err… Is there maybe… Lemon juice or something?”

 “Nope. It’s a Cosmopolitan.” He seemed a bit lost, and Benn smiled. “Vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and some lime juice. Seems like I won the guessing game, huh?”

“Seems like it…” Shanks took another sip, put the glass down, and sighed deeply, but when he turned to Benn, a bright grin lit up his face. “Double or nothing?”

Just having eaten a forkful of lasagna, Benn nodded quietly and put the fork back down. “I’ll go first this time. That way, you can decide on your drink after knowing whether you have a chance to win or not.”

Instead of answering, Shanks finished the rest of his drink in a swift motion and handed him the empty glass. Taking it, Benn went back to the kitchen – the food was still too hot to eat anyway. He already knew what drink he wanted to make Shanks for this round, so the mixing didn’t take long. Putting down the light-green mixture with the salted rim, Benn sat back down.

Once again, Shanks swapped out his slightly eaten lasagna for the drink. He took a sip, licked his lip, and his eyes lit up. “Wow, I almost missed the salted rim. It’s just a basic Margarita, though, right?”

“A hundred points to the contestant. Or, well, two, I guess, since we said it was double the points.”

“So, now I just need to make something you won’t guess!” He carefully put down the drink so he didn’t spill anything, and jumped up. “You’d better be ready for a difficult one.”

As Benn watched him skip to the kitchen, he caught himself wondering if he had missed when they had put an actual prize on this little game. Then again, seeing Shanks this excited was probably the best reward he could imagine anyway.

Chapter Text

Apparently, mixing a hard-to-guess drink took some time, because when Shanks came back inside, Benn had finished most of his lasagna. Shanks had a colorful drink in hand that Benn had to honestly admit looked kind of impressive. It had multiple color shifts, starting from a saturated red at the bottom, transitioning into a bright orange, and then over into a somewhat transparent yellowish color.

He accepted the filled glass from Shanks and gave it a sniff. “Fruity – that’s a welcome surprise after all the rum.” Benn took a sip, halted, and took another sip. It was both sweet and tart, but lacked any alcoholic burn or warmth. “Is there even alcohol in this?”

Grinning, Shanks shrugged and continued eating his lasagna. “Maybe I just made you a nicely layered juice, or maybe there is some milder alcohol in there that you’re just not noticing. You tell me.”

“It is nicely layered…”
Benn tried to recall everything he had seen in Shanks’ home bar and fridge. Had there been something in there that would be mild enough to miss? He didn’t think so, but he hadn’t seen any pineapple juice either, and that was definitely in the drink. … Or was it?
Perhaps that tropical-tasting tartness was the slight burn of Malibu or some light rum. But there hadn’t been any coconut flavor… Then again, that could’ve been masked by the orange juice or the sweetness of the grenadine, which Benn was certain was the red layer at the bottom. Sure, that could also be some heavily sweetened berry liqueur, but Benn doubted it would’ve layered as nicely as grenadine.
He sighed. “Grenadine and orange juice are pretty obvious. The pineapple-juice-like taste confuses me, though. I don’t think you had pineapple juice? So, I guess, I’m going with some light rum instead.”

As soon as Shanks’ face lit up, Benn knew he had guessed wrong. “Well, I’d have given you the pineapple juice since you tasted it, even though you guessed a light rum, but you missed the sparkling water, sooo… You were wrong anyway.”

“Your double or nothing really paid off, huh?” Benn shot him a smile. “Congrats.”

Shanks gave him a couple of playful half-bows. “Thank you, thank you. It was great playing with you.” He halted for a moment. “What did I win?”

Smirking, Benn shrugged. “Considering how excited you looked a moment ago, I thought you were about to tell me what the prize I didn’t know about was.”

“How about my prize is you choosing a prize for me?”

“Alright, alright. Then…” He drank some more of his juice mix. Thinking about it now, it was a pretty nice balance to the half shot of neat rum from round one. An idea crossed his mind. “Ah, I got it! Your reward for winning the guessing game 2:1 is that you get to choose the next activity.”

Shanks had just finished his lasagna and raised his brows. “No limitations?”

Finishing his own dinner, Benn nodded slowly. “Yeah, no limitations at all. I’ll just believe in your judgment.”

With a wide grin, Shanks took another sip of his Margarita. “Oooh, let’s hope you don’t regret that later.” He put the glass back down. “I’d kinda like to watch a movie together…”

He trailed off, so Benn shot him a questioning look. “But?”

“Well…” Shanks pulled out his phone and frowned. “It’s half past nine.”

“On a Saturday, yes.” Benn studied Shanks from the side. They had met up pretty late, since Benn had had today’s afternoon shift that lasted until 7 p.m., but it still wasn’t late by any measure. As far as he knew, Shanks had done some coding in the morning, but his ‘mornings’ started at 10 a.m. earliest, so it hadn’t been a long day for him either. Had the alcohol had more of an effect than he led Benn to believe? No, that was still pretty unlikely. Sure, Shanks was a bit shorter than him, but in the end, he was still close to the two-meter mark and decently athletic. No way, those couple of drinks had had any really noticeable effect. “Do you have somewhere to be tomorrow morning?”

Blinking, Shanks tilted his head. “What? No. Why– Oooh, no, no, the time isn’t important to me, but my neighbor is a bit… particular when it comes to the noise in the evening.” He nodded to the wall-mounted TV. “He always goes to bed at 8.00 p.m. sharp, and his bedroom is right behind that wall. I never hear anything through the walls, but he comes over to complain even if the TV volume is set to three or something.”

“Whoa, that guy must have great hearing. You have a laptop, though, don’t you?”

“Hm? Yeah, of course.”

“Aaand some earbuds?”

Understanding lit up in Shanks’ face. “We would have to go without stereo sound because we’d be sharing, and the screen is not as nice, but that would totally work, yeah.” He got up. “Could you maybe put the plates and forks into the dishwasher, or on top of it, or something, while I get the stuff set up for the movie?”

“Sure thing.”

Benn had just gotten up when Shanks turned back around to him. “Oh, and just grab something to drink so we don’t have to get up in the middle of the movie, please.”

Nodding, Benn headed fully into the kitchen. The dishes were quickly taken care of, so he took his time choosing the beverage for their about-to-begin movie night. For now, he stuck to the options in the fridge. He was sure they’d do a movie night or something while drinking at some point, but with where they were at, he preferred they didn’t get drunk during a meetup. He closed the fridge door again without having taken anything out.

Was this a date? Neither of them had called it that, specifically, but it wasn’t just a casual meetup like the ones he’d have with Yasopp or Roo. Was any meeting with Shanks a date? He shook his head and reopened the fridge. Who cared? As long as Shanks and he were both happy about how things were going, there was really no reason to get into semantics. For a second, he considered taking the pineapple juice that was now standing front and center, but he decided on the orange juice instead. He also grabbed a bottle of water and headed back to the living room.

Shanks was waiting on the couch, his laptop on a stool in front of him as an improvised stand closer to their seats, and earbuds in hand. Next to him lay a blanket that Benn was sure hadn’t been there before, and he had both his legs drawn up to his body. He patted the space right next to him. “Saved you a front row seat in this clearly premium home-cinema.”

Rolling his eyes, Benn placed the two bottles on the coffee table, trying to keep them as much in reach as possible, and joined Shanks on the couch. He looked at the production company logo that was currently paused on screen. “I take it you chose a movie already?”

“Yep!”

“… And I guess you won’t tell me which one?”

“Nope!” Shanks laughed and moved around a bit to get more comfortable. “Even on the risk that you already know the movie or like the franchise or something, I’m going to show you my favorite, and you’ll see what it is when the title screen appears.”

Without another word, Shanks reached Benn his earbud, pressed play, and music started playing.

Chapter Text

The camera panned over the tousled sea to a mist-covered island. A single ship, seemingly too small to travel across the high seas and clearly damaged through the wear of the tides, had landed on its shores, barely holding its own shape. Out of its wooden shell trudged just one person, dragging a large chest through trails in the sand.

Following the man, the camera revealed a cave entrance filled with crates, cloth bags, and chests, overflowing with gold and other valuables. The man entered, put the chest with everything else, and turned to the camera. As he sat down on the chest, his breathing heavy yet shallow, a wide grin lit up the man’s face. Slowly, the view zoomed out, and the man’s ragged voice sounded through Benn’s earbud: “They want my treasures? Well… they can have them. So come and find it! Somewhere in this world, I have hidden the greatest treasure… of all time…”

While the last sounds of his dying breath still rang out, the orchestral score set in, mist covered the view, and the screen read in large letters: ‘The Stormcrow’s Treasure’.

For a split second, Benn saw a shadow move over Shanks’ face in the corner of his eye, but it was gone before he could place it. Instead, Shanks’ lips curled into an almost too-perfect smile when he turned to Benn. “So? Have you seen this before?”

Shaking his head, Benn glanced at the laptop screen, now introducing the small harbor town of Rook Town. “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard of it, though. This was Gol D. Roger’s big breakthrough movie, wasn’t it?”

The masklike smile on Shanks’ face softened, and he looked back at the screen. “Yeah, because of the opening scene just now. Apparently, the script writer and producer loved it so much that they started planning the prequel with him in the lead before this movie had even aired.”

“Are you going to make me watch that prequel, too?”

Shanks smirked and pulled his knees closer with his arms. “That was the plan. Well, unless you absolutely hate this one.”

Benn shifted his weight slightly, too, to get more comfortable, and smiled. “I obviously haven’t seen much yet, but it doesn’t seem like something I’ll hate.” He turned his focus back to the laptop. “Though I should probably keep watching so I don’t miss some important plot point.”

They went silent again following the adventures of the young Corwin Bronté, trying to discover the secrets left behind by the legendary captain of the Stormcrow, Branor Gale – both played by Gol D. Roger. Halfway through, Shanks grabbed the blanket and draped it around himself. His eyes were practically glued to the screen, even when fishing for it with his hand, but it didn’t quite feel like he was actually watching the movie. Instead, it felt like he was looking at something behind the screen that Benn couldn’t see.

For a moment, he considered asking Shanks about it, but he put the thought aside. There was no need to push anything. If Shanks still seemed kinda off after the movie, he could always ask then. Besides, even though Benn couldn’t quite place Shanks’ expression, it didn’t feel desperate or even particularly negative in general. So, Benn decided to leave Shanks be for now and concentrated on the plot.

Corwin had just learned that he was the great-great-grandchild of Captain Gale, explaining their resemblance and further establishing him as the heir to Gale’s legacy. It wasn’t the most original plot twist, but the movie managed to make it work without feeling too cliché. Overall, the plot wasn’t anything that had never been done before. Yet, Benn had to applaud the execution.

The cinematography and props were gorgeous, even by today’s standards, but especially for a movie over ten years old. What stood out most was the great attention to detail they had taken when it came to the ships and how they were handled in different weather. They went as far as making sure you could see the crew move about, even in camera views far away enough so people were but little dark dots on the planks.

In the end, Corwin, of course, found the island with the wreck of the Stormcrow, as well as the cave with Captain Gale’s treasure. The last shot of the movie was a slow zoom out from the burning Stormcrow, set aflame to grant the legendary pirate a grave in the sea, together with his beloved vessel. Mist covered the camera lens, and the credits rolled.

“What did you think?” asked Shanks, whose head was the only part not covered by the blanket.

“The storyline was a bit predictable, but it was definitely a fun watch – and very aesthetically filmed.” He poked Shanks’ blanket. “Is there a reason you’ve turned into a Shanks-rito?”

“It’s the coziest way to enjoy a movie!” Looking around, Shanks huffed. “I’d offer you one, too, but I don’t have another blanket like this… We could share, though!”

Benn thought about his answer for a second. “If that means you won't space out completely again during the prequel, sure,” he said finally, trying to keep his tone light enough so it didn’t sound like a serious complaint.

Shanks blinked slowly. “I did space out a bit there, didn’t I…? My bad. These movies make me a bit nostalgic at times.” He gave an apologetic smile. “Remember the guy I mentioned before, whose ship I sailed on?” Benn nodded. “That was Roger. He was actually my legal guardian for a while during my teens, too. Until he… Well, you know. Got stabbed.”

Benn’s expression softened. “Right, I heard about it. There was that whole public debate about whether the reasons behind it made sense…  Awfully tasteless, if you ask me – and unfair to the people who were close to him, like you.”

Giving him a small shrug, Shanks shot him a warm smile. “I guess that’s just how people are. They want to have an opinion about everything, regardless of whether they have actual knowledge on the topic or not. Either way, what he means to me will always stay the same.” The heaviness disappeared from his voice. “So, you said we’d share for the prequel?” He opened up his blanket cocoon and inched a bit closer to Benn.

Moving over to Shanks, Benn took the open part of the blanket and draped it over himself. “I did say that, though now I’m more looking forward to seeing how you’ll manage to start the movie with your arms under the blanket.”

“Don’t you worry about that. I’m quite dexterous when it comes to blanket-handling a laptop.” A finger-shaped blanket-protrusion closed in on the laptop’s keyboard. It expertly maneuvered the movie selection menu with just the arrow keys, and within moments, the prequel was full-screen and running. Shanks nudged him with his elbow. “See? I’m great at this.” While the studio logos flew across the screen, his tone shifted towards serious again. “By the way, I just want to make sure you know that the whole story about Roger isn’t a touchy topic for me or anything. It’s been long enough for me to be over most of my grief. Sure, I miss him every now and then, but my life has gone on. Besides, there are people in the present I want to focus on.” He scooted even closer, stopping just barely before their shoulders touched. “Like you.”

Warmth filled Benn’s chest. “That’s good to hear. Just… You can lean on me if you feel like it.”

A chuckle escaped Shanks. “Metaphorically or literally?”

“Both.”

As soon as this answer left Benn’s mouth, Shanks let himself fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder. The warmth rose to his cheeks, but Benn decided to focus his attention on the starting movie. He had basically asked Shanks to do this, after all, so there was no reason to feel shy about it now.

The prequel told the tale of Captain Branor Gale – how he was born and raised, how he became a pirate, how he rose to fame, and how he finally died on the island in the mist, as shown in The Stormcrow’s Treasure. It was just as visually striking as the movie before it, but the story felt even more engaging. Still, Benn had to admit he was having trouble following the plot.

Not because it was badly told, but because he felt every little movement Shanks made, as far as feeling him breathe. Once in a while, he glanced at Shanks, who at some point had started resting his head against him as well. But somehow, whenever he did, he caught Shanks looking at him instead of the screen. When it happened for the twentieth time, Benn reached over and paused the movie.

“Is something the matter, Shanks?”

A light, red tint appeared on Shanks’ cheeks, and he looked away from Benn. “No, no, I’m alright, but…” He shifted his weight around for a bit before he turned back to meet Benn’s gaze. “Can I kiss you?”

Chapter Text

Benn’s brain short-circuited. He had definitely heard that question right. A thought crossed his mind, and he remembered what Shanks had said during their first date: that he had liked it when Benn reacted more on instinct rather than overthinking. Trying to ignore his heart beating so loud he could’ve sworn Shanks could hear it, he decided to go with his gut.

Instead of giving Shanks an answer, Benn slowly turned to face him. He cupped the side of Shanks’ face with one hand and carefully placed his lips on Shanks’. The reaction was immediate – just the tiniest jolt before Shanks leaned into Benn to return the kiss. When they separated again, a few moments later, Benn’s pulse was still racing, and Shanks grinned at him.

“You know, while I appreciated that, it technically didn’t answer my question.”

Benn huffed lightly. “I guess not, huh?” Lowering his hand that was still touching Shanks’ cheek, Benn matched his smile. “Absolutely – that’s my answer.”

The smile on Shanks’ face grew wider, and he leaned back in to exchange another soft kiss with Benn. He pulled a bit away again and rested his forehead on Benn’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I picked up that weird gardening book,” Shanks murmured.

His warm breath was tickling Benn’s collarbone, so Benn readjusted his seat until his head was resting atop Shanks’. Benn wasn’t usually inclined to physical touch, but with Shanks, it just felt right. “And I’m glad I asked you about it.” His eyes darted back to the laptop, the paused movie almost forgotten. “Should we continue the movie?”

“Of course! You have to see all of it. Plus, I might be able to concentrate on it again after the thing my subconscious had been yelling at me all evening.” He reached for the space bar but stopped. “Actually, I want to talk about one more thing before we continue.” Benn hummed for him to go on. “Does this mean that I can now call you my boyfriend in front of others? Or partner or something, of course, if you prefer that.”

A fuzzy, warm feeling rose in Benn’s chest. “All of the options you named are more than fine. In fact, the idea of you introducing me like that to your friends and family seems like winning a grand prize.”

Shanks gave him a peck on his cheek. “I’ll do just that, then. And the same goes the other way around, I hope.”

“Of course.” Benn pulled him a bit closer. “There’s no way I’ll miss the chance of introducing my first boyfriend to people.”

Pulling away slightly so he could fully see Benn’s face, Shanks stared at him with wide eyes. “Wait, what? I know you said you didn’t have much experience, but first?”

Benn chuckled and shook his head. “Well, first boyfriend, not relationship.” Shanks nodded and leaned back against Benn, his body relaxing.

“How come I’m the first guy?”

“I had two girlfriends over the course of high school – both asked me out. I had never had a crush on anyone before that, so I didn’t understand that I didn’t like them as much as someone who wanted a relationship with them would. The first relationship, if you can call it that, lasted a grand total of two weeks. The second, I dated until my second semester in uni.” He shrugged. “Which is when she started to want to get more physical, and I, in turn, realized that I really didn’t want to do any of that with a woman.”

Grabbing Benn’s hand under the blanket and stroking over the back of it, Shanks looked up at him. “But you do with men?”

“I never wanted to kiss her, either, if that answers your question.”

“It does!” He turned back to the laptop. “Right, we wanted to continue the movie.” Shanks pressed play and huddled even closer to Benn, their hands still intertwined.

Benn was still all too aware of Shanks’ close presence, but after their conversation just now, it didn’t take away as much of his attention as before. This way, he could actually follow the rest of the plot, which detailed more about the world and Captain Gale’s relation to Corwin from the first movie than Benn had expected it to.

While the credits rolled, Shanks sighed. “I really wish they had made another movie in this world – maybe even about someone completely unrelated to Captain Gale. It feels like a waste, not to do anything else with this nice worldbuilding.”

Benn nodded. “True. It reminds me of ‘Tales of the Windbird’. That had a lot of unused potential as well, unfortunately.”

“Huh. I don’t think I know that one. Is it on Aurora as well, or would we need a different streaming service?”

“Should be on here, yeah. It’s high fantasy and maybe a tad long with its three and a half hours, but it’s a worthwhile watch in my opinion.”

Shanks leaned forward and checked the time on the laptop. “Hmm, that is pretty long. Should we watch it anyway?” He glanced at Benn from the corner of his eye. “I know we originally planned just to meet and you’d go back home, buuut…” He looked away again, fidgeting with his fingers, though it didn’t strike Benn as actual nerves. It seemed more like he was simply taking his time continuing. “You could always just... Stay?”

Laughing, Benn pulled Shanks back against his chest and into a hug. “You know you can just ask me normally, right? But, yeah, we can do that. I don’t have anything with me, though, so we might have to grab some stuff from a 24/7 store.”

Shanks smirked and looked over his shoulder, back at Benn. “Well, I should have some clothes that fit you well enough for the night, and I bought a three-pack of toothbrushes when the thing with the gas leak happened, so I can give you one of those, too.” He tilted his head. “Now that I think about it, the only ‘problem’ would be tomorrow’s breakfast – although there isn’t enough for me to begin with, so I’d have to go get something anyway.”

“Sounds good, and the breakfast can be tomorrow’s issue.” Benn let go of Shanks so he could lean forward and look for the correct movie in Aurora’s database.

Just a few clicks later, the preview of ‘Tales of the Windbird’ filled the screen. Shanks re-draped the blanket over them both and huddled closer to Benn, cuddling his arm. “I look forward to seeing a movie you like.”

“And I look forward to having you next to me for the duration of it.”

He felt Shanks chuckle. “Have we passed the one billion talks already? You’ve been a lot more talkative and direct today.”

Benn looked back on their last hours together. Shanks was right; he had been a lot more upfront, even before Shanks had asked to kiss him. “I’d blame the drinks, but it definitely wasn’t enough alcohol for that.” He shrugged and leaned his head against Shanks’. “I guess, you just made me feel comfortable quicker than I expected.” The music set in, the first scene slowly faded in, and a soft smile tugged at Benn’s lips. “For now, though, I’ll shut up again so we can enjoy the movie.”

Chapter Text

They were around an hour into ‘Tales of the Windbird’ and the main journey of the half-elven protagonist was just about to begin, when Benn suppressed a yawn for the third time in a row. Next to him, Shanks was rubbing his eyes as well. Benn checked the time and nudged Shanks. “Should we pause this here and go to bed for now? It’s almost three.”

Blinking slowly, Shanks nodded and paused the movie. “Let’s do that. I still have to get everything out for you to stay the night.” He stretched and shut the laptop. “I’d say we’ll head to my bedroom first to pick out your clothes. That way, you can change while I try to remember where I put those extra toothbrushes.”

Benn smirked. “Oh, we’re not having the bed-couch discussion again?”

“Nooo. Besides, we’d probably end at the same conclusion.” Shanks got up and started folding up the blanket they had been sharing. He chuckled. “By the way, it’ll be less crowded than at your place, because my bed is queen-sized.”

“You mean, now that we’re comfortable with physical contact, we won’t accidentally touch all the time during the night?”

“Not at all! What I’m saying is that all contact now will be purely intentional.”

Right. Heat rose into Benn’s cheeks. When Shanks had stayed the night at his place, any touch could easily be attributed to the limited space they had shared, but in a queen-sized bed? Unlikely, especially if it was more than once. Then again… Did he have a reason to be embarrassed about this? After all, they were officially dating. They had kissed. They had cuddled for most of the second movie and during the whole last hour. Yet, somehow, the idea of Shanks touching him in a bed felt entirely different.

No use to dwell on it now. He shook his head to gather his thoughts and waited for Shanks to put away the blanket. “Anyway, let’s get those clothes. I’m pretty tired.”

“Sure.”

Shanks led him to the door he had told Benn not to enter when he had first arrived. It was quite obvious that Shanks had not cleaned up his room, just like he had stated earlier. Near the cupboards, which lined one side of the room, lay a bunch of clothes, haphazardly strewn about the floor. Shanks simply ignored them or pushed them aside with a foot while heading to the closets and opening one of the doors. While he went through the clothes inside, on the lookout for something that would fit Benn, Benn looked around the room a bit more.

He turned his head to the part of the room he hadn’t seen yet and stopped. Shanks’ bed – it was on the large side for a queen-sized bed, Benn was sure – was almost entirely covered in a colorful assortment of fuzzy blankets, various shapes and sizes of pillows, and a plethora of plushies. Benn blinked, but he hadn’t imagined the sight. “Didn’t you say you didn’t have another blanket like the one on the couch?” He asked, slowly turning back around.

“Hm?” Shanks turned to him and shot a glance at the bed. “Oh. Those. Yeah, well, you see: Those are bed blankets. They’re not meant to be used on the couch.”

Benn blinked a couple of times and nodded slowly. “Ah... Okay.” The difference between the types of blankets wasn’t entirely logical to him, but Shanks seemed serious, so he wasn’t going to question it. They were Shanks’ blankets, after all. He gestured to the pillows. “Same with the pillows?”

“Yes, those are decorations as well.”

Benn pointed at a single chair that stood close to the bed. “Is that only decorative, too?”

For a moment, Shanks stared blankly at the chair in question. “No… Believe it or not, I actually specifically took this chair in here so I could put my clothes on it instead of spreading them out on the floor.” He shrugged. “Which, as you can see, didn’t work out. Welp, it was worth a try.” Turning back to the closet, Shanks sighed. “Back to the issue at hand. Do you have a preference? I have an oversized hoodie that I’m pretty sure will fit you, and one of my loosely fitted sport t-shirts might work as well.”

“I’ll take the hoodie, I think.”

Shanks pulled out a clearly well-loved, muted yellow hoodie with a large rubber duck print on the front, which had already started to flake off in parts. “It’s seen better days, I know, but I can’t get myself to get rid of it.” He handed it over to Benn, who took it without hesitation, and looked back into the closet. “Now for leg wear… Some sport shorts might fit you, but that’d be a weird combination with a hoodie… Hm.”

“Do you have sweatpants with a drawstring, maybe? If not, the shorts will be fine too.”

“Oh, you’re right!” He dug around in a drawer of the closet until he pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. Triumphantly smiling, Shanks spun around and held it out for Benn to take. “Found it!”

Benn took a closer look at the clothes. The pants and hoodie sleeves might be a bit short on him, but otherwise they should fit just fine. Both were made from a plush-like fabric and were lined with an even softer fabric. While the sweatpants seemed pretty new, the hoodie was definitely a couple of years old. Its cuffs were starting to fray, and he spotted a handful of small holes, but it didn’t strike him as tattered.

 As planned earlier, Shanks headed to the bathroom first to look for the toothbrush he had mentioned. With a small hint from Benn, he just almost forgot to take his pajamas as well, and was back out in a couple of minutes.

“I put the toothbrush on the right side of the sink. It’s the green one.” Shanks’ gaze fell onto the bed. “Riiight, I still need to make some room for you to be able to actually sleep on the bed.”

When Benn walked out of the bathroom, the extra blankets and pillows had been carefully stacked onto the once-empty chair. It looked stable for now, but Benn was sure it could topple at any moment if someone just lightly brushed past it. He looked over to the bed. There was more space than before, but the plushies were still taking up more space than Benn would need to sleep.

“You need help?”

Shanks was staring at the plushies and nodded slowly. “Yeah, that would speed things up. I’m still deciding which ones I want to keep here, but I guess you could take the ones I’m not considering to the couch already.” He nodded again and started picking up plushies, one by one, handing them to Benn.

Taking the first load of plushies to the couch, Benn chuckled. He hadn’t thought that clearing up space on the bed would be the hardest part of suddenly staying over. Yet, once again, Shanks had proven him wrong. The more time he spent with him, the more Benn felt like regular logic simply didn’t apply to Shanks.

A soft smile snuck on his face. “Guess I’ll just have to learn Shanks-logic from now on, then…”

Chapter Text

After five round trips, all but three plushies had been transported to the couch. Benn peeked over Shanks’ shoulder. “So, these three are the lucky ones who get to stay here?”

“Jep!” Shanks smiled warmly and picked one of them up. “They’re my favorites.”

Stepping next to him, Benn took a closer look at the plushies. One was an oversized, ball-shaped axolotl, with a random set of gills in the middle of its round body. On a second look, Benn also noticed that half of it was more of a pastel pink, while the rest was closer to an orange. The next was a sleeping, green dragon, curled in on itself on top of a little treasure chest. Other than looking old, this one didn’t seem to have any oddities, and Benn guessed it was simply a plushie from Shanks’ childhood.

The third one, the one Shanks was currently holding, was a teddy bear that Benn could only describe as ‘misshapen’. Its eyes were neither on the same level, nor the same size, nor even remotely in the right place. While the teddy’s left eye was closer to the top of its head than its face, the right eye was so far to the side it was almost facing the teddy’s back. At least four different shades of brown, furry fabric had been used – all differing in textures. None of the four limbs was similarly sized to another, and the tail was basically part of the bear’s thigh.

Frankly, Benn didn’t know what flaw to look at next, but he was sure he could’ve named at least a dozen more. It really was the ugliest teddy bear he had ever seen. … Hadn’t he had that thought before? The festival came to mind, and Benn’s eyes widened. “Wait… You kept this?” He pointed at the teddy. “And you consider it one of your top three favorites?”

Blinking, Shanks tilted his head. “Of course I do. You gifted this to me – that alone makes Chi-bear-a one of my favorites.”

Without thinking, Benn pulled Shanks into a hug and rested his forehead on his shoulder. “You’re way too cute, do you know that?” He mumbled, heat filling his face.

Shanks laughed and nuzzled his cheek against the top of Benn’s head. “If you say so. Though I think you’re cuter.”

Carefully raising his head to look at Shanks’ face, Benn huffed. “There’s no way I’m cuter than someone who called his teddy bear ‘Chi-bear-a’.”

“It’s the perfect name! I mean, look at it.” He pointed at the bear. “This has to be at least 20 teddies sewn into one.”

“Do the other ones have names, too?”

“Of course!” He pointed at the axolotl and then the dragon. “This is Axolo-ball, and that’s Greenscale. … I know, Greenscale’s not as good a name as the others, but he’s been called that since I was, like, four.”

So, it really was a plushy from Shanks’ childhood. “Greenscale is also a cute name.” Benn straightened up again and stretched. “I’d love to hear more names, but I’m super tired.”

Placing Chi-bear-a, Axolo-ball, and Greenscale on the bedside table closest to him, Shanks nodded and shot Benn a warm smile. “You’re right, it’s past three already. I can always tell you about Mane-fred, Tony, and the rest another time. Do you have a preference for the side of the bed?” Raising his brows, Benn silently looked at him until Shanks nodded again, slowly. “Right. Last time I asked you to switch sides. I’ll stay on this side then, that’s where I usually sleep.”

Benn smirked. “Got it.”

He went around the bed and sat down on it. It was clearly a very nice mattress and had just the right firmness. With a sigh, he lay down and let himself sink deeper into the mattress. On the other side, Shanks followed suit and turned off the lights with a switch close to his side of the bed. “Good night,” Shanks murmured while readjusting his blanket.

“Good night,” Benn responded and turned on his preferred side to sleep. Naturally, just as in his apartment, that meant he was now looking right at Shanks, who had turned on his side, too. Benn’s body was practically yelling at him to sleep, but his mind kept racing, repeating the happenings of the day over and over. Staring at Shanks, who was staring right back at him, didn’t help either.

He sighed quietly and searched for Shanks’ gaze. “Actually… Can you tell me about those other plushies after all?”

Chuckling, Shanks raised a brow. “Can’t sleep?” Benn nodded. “Me neither, so, sure. I’ll tell you about them.” They were both whispering, and Benn decided to scooch ever so slightly closer to understand him better. Shanks waited for him to settle before starting his explanations. “Alright, let’s start with Mane-fred. He was sold as a pink panther, but he’s clearly a lion. However, his mane has been placed around his muzzle. No idea who chose to do that and why, but it looks really funny.”

“Around… the muzzle?” It was hard to imagine for Benn that anyone had actively chosen to put a lion’s mane there. Then again, they had also put a mane on what they had considered a panther to begin with, so maybe it wasn’t as unlikely as he had thought. “Sometimes I question whether those kinds of decisions were really made by a human…”

“Same. It does get a bit better with Tony, I think.”

“… How?”

“He’s a narwhale with two horns instead of one.”

“Oh. That’s a lot better.”

Shanks grinned. “Well, also, he’s neon green with yellow polka-dots. But, you know, creative freedom or something.” He thought for a second. “Oh, you might appreciate Hetero-cobr-ia. Some of my friends say the name sounds weird, but I think it makes sense.”

“I’d guess it’s a cobra with different colored eyes?”

Shanks nodded. “Exactly. Well, the eyes on the hood are different colors, too, and the head makes up around 50 percent of the entire plush, but, yeah, the eyes were the reason for the name.”

He kept talking, telling Benn about various more of his plushies until both of them could barely keep their eyes open. They wished each other a good night again, and, this time, Benn drifted to sleep easily.

Chapter Text

When Benn opened his eyes, he needed a moment to realize where he was. Right, he had stayed over at Shanks’ place, and they had shared his bed. He moved slightly and jolted, as he almost fell out of the bed. But when he tried scooching further to the middle of the bed, his back hit something just a few centimeters behind him.

Carefully, Benn turned over just enough to see behind his back. Shanks had managed to get so close during the night that Benn now had barely his own width left as space on the large double bed. Additionally, one of his hands was tightly closed around the hem of Benn’s hoodie, and he was still fast asleep.

Benn attempted to free it from Shanks’ grasp without waking him, but to no avail. He sighed softly and mentally went through his options. Option one: he could wake up Shanks, but he seemed to be sleeping deeply, so that option just felt rude. Option two: he could tug harder, but that again risked Shanks waking up, so he discarded that idea as well. The last option he could think of was taking off the hoodie. It would be a bit strange if Shanks did wake up, but he was pretty sure the chances of that were rather slim.

Taking his time, Benn managed to wriggle out of the duck-hoodie and quietly got up. As soon as he got out of it, Shanks pulled the hoodie closer, hugging it tightly. Suppressing a smile at the view, he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom, making sure to keep the noise as low as possible.

When he was done, he checked the time. “What the hell is wrong with me…?” Benn muttered, double-checking the clock with his phone. The clock was correct: 7:30 a.m. Why in the world did his body wake him after only a bit over four hours of sleep? Now he was extremely glad he hadn’t woken Shanks. For a moment, he just stared at the clock on his phone, not sure what to do next.

He was too awake to change back and try to go back to sleep, so – even ignoring the fact that Shanks was holding on tightly to his temporary pajama top – that wasn’t an option. A ray of sunshine, peeking out from behind a cloud, blinded him through the window. Maybe he could just take a nice, quiet morning walk.

Nodding, as if to agree with himself, Benn got up. He was already at the door when he realized Shanks would be super confused if he woke up before Benn was back. After a quick search, he located a piece of paper and a pen inside the kitchen and wrote a small note.
‘Just out on a walk. Have my phone with me.’
Ready to leave, he left the note on the coffee table in the living room, assuming that would be the most obvious place for it. The memory of their conversation about him staying the night came to mind, and he added another line to the note.
‘I’ll get us something for breakfast while I’m out.’
Perfect. Checking the note’s visibility one last time, Benn left the apartment.

It was a relatively warm April morning, and the sun was shining amidst a clear, blue sky. Stretching, Benn walked down the sidewalk towards what looked like a small park. He had passed it yesterday evening on his way to Shanks’ apartment building, and it had seemed like the perfect place for an early morning walk.

The entire area around Shanks’ apartment was very nicely kept. A handful of apartment buildings with only two to three floors were scattered between personal homes. Each had a relatively large garden for being positioned not too far off the town center, and a good quality fence around it. In some of them, Benn could even see a pool – not that anyone was using them during this time of the year. Clearly, everyone living in this part of town was well off.

A few other people were strolling around the park, most of them walking their dogs, but altogether it was still pretty empty. Then again, it was before 8 a.m. on a Sunday. At a different time, Benn was sure more people would be around. Even so, the paths were large enough that it wouldn’t feel too crowded, and large grass patches with strategically placed trees to offer shade would give everyone a chance to spread out further.

When he reached the other side of the park, a bakery on the opposite side of the road caught his eye, and he headed over to it. He had promised to get breakfast, after all. Getting closer, he thought about what he could get. Shanks had mentioned getting croissants before; buying some of those seemed like a safe bet.
They had a few different options, so Benn ended up leaving with a variety. Some plain, some he would prefer, and some he assumed Shanks might like. He’d eat any of them, though, in case Shanks hated one of them. Taking out his phone, Benn checked for messages and the time.

His ’small morning walk’ had gotten somewhat out of hand, as he had been walking for almost two hours at this point. Well, some extra steps never hurt, and Shanks hadn’t messaged him yet, either. In fact, now that he was thinking about him, he kind of needed Shanks to be awake to go back anyway. After all, Benn didn’t have a key. But before he could worry about it, his phone buzzed with a text from Shanks: ‘Just ring the doorbell when you get back.’

Without wandering about, the way back only took him around twenty minutes, although that was still longer than he had thought he’d need. Shanks answered the doorbell so quickly, Benn could’ve sworn he must’ve waited next to the door.

“Yes?” His voice was still a bit groggy, even through the intercom.

Just hearing him talk made Benn smile. “Breakfast delivery,” he answered, and got some half-awake laughter as a response. The door buzzed, signaling to Benn that he could open it. Two staircases later, he was welcomed by Shanks’ tired smile from between the doorframe. Chuckling, Benn looked from Shanks’ face down to his shirt and back. “You missed a button.”

Slowly, Shanks looked down at himself and sighed. “It’s too early to be awake…” he mumbled, stepping aside for Benn to enter while he rebuttoned his shirt.

Benn did his best not to stare, but he stole some glances at what seemed to be a nicely toned chest – how could he not, when Shanks had to stop in the middle, because he had already missed another button?

“It really isn’t your time yet, huh?” Benn mused and headed to the kitchen, leaving Shanks to deal with his buttons.

Benn turned to the cupboard that Shanks had gotten the plates out of yesterday evening. He had remembered correctly and started setting the table. Just moments later, Shanks had managed to finally button his shirt correctly and turned his attention to Benn and the paper bag from the bakery, which Benn had just put on the table.

“What did you get? Do we need anything else?”

“A variety of croissants, and we might need knives if we want to put something on the plain ones.” He got the croissants out of the bag, laid them out on top of it, and showed the different kinds one after another. “These are plain, these have nougat – which I thought you might like, but if not, I can eat them – and the last ones are my favorite, ham-and-cheese.”

As soon as the word ‘nougat’ had reached Shanks’ ears, his eyes practically glowed, and he seemed a bit more awake. He pointed at the two nougat croissants. “Are you saying I can have both of these?”

Benn nodded, a warm smile on his lips. “That was the idea.”

Immediately, the two croissants wandered onto Shanks’ plate, and Shanks stared at the other croissants. His gaze wandered over them, but kept lingering on one of the ham-and-cheese croissants. Once or twice, his hand inched closer to a plain croissant, determined to leave the ham-and-cheese croissants to Benn, but he stopped again after just a tiny distance every time.

Chuckling, Benn picked up one of the ham-and-cheese croissants and put it on Shanks’ plate. When Shanks wanted to say something, Benn waved him off. “Take it. I couldn’t eat this and live with the memory of your hopeful expression.”

“But–!”

“No, but. I’ll just know what to get for next time.”

“Alright, then… Thanks.”

Watching Shanks happily eat his choice of croissants was more than worth giving up on a single ham-and-cheese croissant. That much, Benn was certain of.

Chapter Text

Benn stretched, for which he earned a small grumble from Shanks. He was clinging to Benn, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. “Don’t you dare get up, Benn. You promised me at least ten minutes of cuddle time in the morning for the vacation,” he mumbled into Benn’s shoulder, where his face was currently located.

“You mean the vacation that we returned from yesterday evening?” Smirking, Benn stroked over Shanks’ head.

The arms around Benn got tighter. “No, the vacation still counts, because you’re off work until Tuesday!”

“Right, so what are we doing from this evening onwards then? I only really slept at yours today because we got back so late.”

“I know…” Leaning into his hand, Shanks sighed. “It feels like you’ve barely been over since that first time half a year ago.”

Benn laughed and placed a quick kiss on Shanks’ part. “We’ve met up at least two times a week, three to four times if our schedules allowed it. And if we decided to sleep in the same place, it was usually yours because of the larger bed.”

“Yeah, but… I just wish we could wake up like this every day…”

For a bit, Benn just enjoyed the proximity to Shanks. It wasn’t like they didn’t get to share physical intimacy otherwise, but he couldn’t deny that it would be nice to have this more often. To have Shanks be the first thing he sees when opening his eyes in the morning, like he had been during their two-week vacation. “I agree. And… Well, it’s not impossible.” Shanks turned his head a bit to look at him, and Benn continued. “We could always just move together. My flat would definitely be too small, but yours could work.”

Shanks pushed his upper body off the mattress until he could look down at Benn. His eyes were glowing. “I would love that! Oh, and– I mean– Like–“ He took a deep breath and a moment to sort his words into actual sentences. “Okay. What I meant to say was: I actually have a different idea. Iiii… kinda own a small house? So, we could always live there.”

Blinking slowly, Benn stared at him. “You own a house?” A nod. “Why don’t you live there?”

“Well… I did live there for a while, but it felt too large and empty.” He twirled a strand of Benn’s hair around his finger, his eyes fixated on a point far away. “I never bought it; it used to be Roger’s. Since he had adopted me, I was eligible for inheritance, but I had Rayleigh give most of it to Roger’s lover and their son. The house is the only thing I kept, because they didn’t have a use for it.”

Rayleigh Silvers, the well-known agent and closest friend of Gol D. Roger, and the one who had taken guardianship of Shanks after Roger’s death. Benn had met him and his wife, Shakky, a couple of days after Shanks and he had decided to become an actual couple. That Roger had had a lover and son, though, Benn hadn’t heard of.

His expression must’ve given his thoughts away, because Shanks shot him a reassuring smile. “They kept that fact away from the public for the sake of their son. I’m pretty sure they wanted to make it known eventually, but after the murder, she decided to keep it as is – for obvious reasons.” He shrugged. “That also meant that their son wasn’t officially considered an heir, and since I didn’t have much contact with them either, I had to give them everything through Rayleigh.”

“Well, a house sounds great, but…” Benn slid back a bit to sit up, too. “When’s the last time you’ve been at the house? Or rather… What state is it in?”

Shanks turned to sit next to him, leaning on his shoulder. “Great question, honestly. I’m not sure. I have cleaners and gardeners go there twice a week, but the furniture, especially, isn’t exactly new anymore. I should probably go take a look…”

Benn pulled him closer. “Maybe we could take a look together. Today, perhaps?”

“Sounds good! … Will you still move here, though? Until the house is ready to be lived in?”

“Hm, I don’t know if that makes much sense. I’d honestly rather not have to pack and unpack my stuff twice if I can do it just once.” A grumble left Shanks, and he cuddled closer to Benn, hiding his face in the nape of Benn’s neck. Chuckling, Benn patted his head. “How about this: I’ll sleep here every Friday and Saturday, basically staying the weekend. We’d have to find a way to go about it when I have work on the weekend, but that should be simple enough.”

Shanks didn’t move his head, but Benn could feel him smile against the skin of his neck. “Would that be additional to our usual meetups?”

“If time allows it, sure.”

Shanks put a bit more distance between them, just enough to place a quick kiss on Benn’s lips. “I’ll hold you to that, so you’d better not start suddenly having way less time than before!”

Softly cupping Shanks’ face with his hands, Benn cocked his head. “Oh? Or else?”

“Or… Er…” Shanks looked around the room as if to find something he could use. After a moment, he shook his head. “I’ll find something. Probably.”

A playful smile tugged at the corners of Benn’s mouth. “Riiight, I’m sure you will. And then you’ll manage to corner me with it, hm?”

“Yeah, exactly!” With a swift movement, Shanks turned over until he was sitting on top of Benn, his hands braced against the headboard on either side of Benn’s head. “See? I’ve got you cornered already.”

Benn raised his brows. “You do?” He grabbed Shanks’ sides and rolled both of them over. Now, hovering over Shanks lying on his back, Benn smirked. “Cornered, was it?”

Pink dusted Shanks’ cheeks as he stared up at Benn above him. “Well, I could’ve done something against this, of course. I just… Didn’t want to.”

Benn huffed and placed a soft kiss on Shanks’ forehead. “Whatever you say, but why, pray tell, did you want to be in this position?”

A wide grin looked up at Benn, and Shanks wrapped his arms around Benn’s neck. “You see, I’m not as good with words as you, so how about I show you, instead?”

Laughing, Benn lifted one hand to stroke through Shanks’ red hair. “Go ahead.”

Chapter Text

After they had finally decided to get up and get ready for the day, Benn went ahead and made breakfast for them both while Shanks set the table. They had naturally started splitting it this way when they had begun eating together more often. Since then, Shanks’ fridge and kitchen had been better stocked as well. It now held some basic cooking essentials – which very specifically included all ingredients necessary to make pancakes, because Shanks had kept insisting that pancakes were the most essential of them all.

While eating, Benn tried to plan out their next steps for today. “Where is the house, actually?”

Shanks lowered the bite of pancake he had on his fork a bit. “Willow Street, on the far side of the roundabout.”

“Ah, so across town, but still reasonably close to the library. That sounds perfect.” He cut a piece off his sunny-side egg. “Do you have a plan for how we get there? Maybe a random car you own that you haven’t mentioned yet?”

Rolling his eyes, Shanks took a sip of coffee – or black sludge, as Benn preferred to call it, because of the absurd amount of coffee Shanks used, for no particular reason. “No car, no. I was thinking we could take the bus. There’s a bus stop not too far from the house.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll just follow you and hope we’ll end up at the right place.”

“Oh, come ooon! I can find my way back to the place I lived at for like… actually, it was only about four years. But still!”

They took their time finishing breakfast, bantering lightly as had become almost second nature in their relationship. Before meeting Shanks, Benn would’ve never believed he could get close to a person within six months. Hell, with Yasopp and Roo, whom he’d known and been around basically since they had been born, it had still taken him until the third grade in elementary school to talk to them this openly. He hadn’t been able to decipher whether he had changed or Shanks was simply easy to talk to. Maybe it was a bit of both.

The bus connection was pretty straightforward, and thirty minutes later, they arrived at the house. It was medium-sized, maybe a bit larger than the house Benn had grown up in, and had a relatively large garden. While the house could’ve used a new paint job, the garden was looking nice and clean. Neatly trimmed hedges a bit taller than Benn surrounded the property instead of a fence, and a large metal gate between two stone pillars marked the lot’s entrance.

Shanks took out his keys, unlocked the gate, and made a theatrically large gesture. “After you.”

Benn huffed and shook his head, but passed through the gate as Shanks wanted. A stone-paved path led to the entrance door, with lawn filling the rest of the garden to its left and right. A couple of trees – Benn identified two apple trees and a maple tree – were sprinkled around the area, as well as a few bushes and three nicely kept flowerbeds. Clearly, the gardeners Shanks had hired were doing a great job.

Passing by Benn, Shanks interlinked their fingers. “What do you think so far?”

“The property’s nice, but I’m unsure about that façade. Well, all of the paint, really.” It looked pretty old and was chipping off in parts. Then again, Benn was pretty sure a simple paint job would do the trick. “Also, I think the interior is more important than the outside, but while we’re at it: Do you have specific wishes? As in, parts of this house you want to keep as close to now as possible because they’re nostalgic?”

Shanks turned to look at the house and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I’d like the outside to stay. The shell, color, and garden layout.” He turned back to Benn and smiled. “For now, at least. Who knows how I’ll feel about it in a couple of years.”

Letting go of Shanks’ hand, Benn stroked over Shanks’ cheek. “Sure, that’s fine by me. Anything else?”

“I want to keep having a fireplace in the living room – definitely shouldn’t be the one that’s in there right now, though.” Chuckling, Shanks shrugged. “That thing already barely worked while Roger was still alive. I don’t even want to imagine what it’s like now.”

He went ahead to unlock the door, and they took a small tour of the house together. They agreed about most things, like making the ground floor more of an open concept by getting rid of the walls to the kitchen, or changing the tiles in the bathrooms. In one room, however, their opinions differed greatly: the living room. It had been the second room they had looked at, after the kitchen, but as they disagreed on it, they had decided to postpone it until after the other rooms. So now, it was the only room they had a decision left to make for.

Shanks really liked the saturated light blue that covered the walls, as well as the color of the couch. Benn, on the other hand… Well, contrary to the murky green of the couch, he didn’t mind the blue as a color itself, but on all the walls, it was just too much for his liking. He looked at the old couch, one of the only pieces of furniture currently in this house, and scrunched his nose. “You actually like this color?”

Shanks shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’d like that color on anything else, but I like it on this couch.” He got a bit closer to it, carefully pressed on the seat, and grimaced. “Though this couch specifically will have to go. The padding feels like it’s crumbling away.”

Suppressing a sigh of relief, Benn nodded. “Right, and do you think you could live with a different color, then?”

“You really hate that couch’s color, don’t you?” Laughing, Shanks nodded. “Yeah, I might not even like it on a different couch, anyway, so that should be fine.” He turned around. “The walls, however, are a different situation. I really, really do like them in that color. Why don’t you?”

Sighing, Benn shook his head. “I don’t dislike the color, per se, but it’s really powerful and bright. I just think it’s too much, seeing it whichever direction you turn in here.” Taking a second to think about it, he tilted his head. “Actually, I guess we could find a compromise then, if we just don’t leave all the walls in this color. The others could still be blue, just maybe a bit lighter or duller.” He searched for Shanks’ gaze. “How about it?”

Shanks closed his eyes for a moment. “As an accent wall of sorts?” Benn nodded. “Hmm, I guess that’d be fine. … Can we do an accent wall in the bedroom, too? In the same blue?”

Quickly, Benn checked his notes he’d taken along the way. They had decided on a cool grey for the bedroom. He shrugged. “Sure. Let’s put that behind the bed.”

“Sounds good! … Had we decided on a color for the upstairs bathroom?”

“And that’s why I wrote down the things we talked about…” Smiling, he handed the list he had made to Shanks. Things would probably not stay as they had planned now, but it was still better to have a list to refer to later.

One thing was clear already: This would be more of a refurbishing job than a renovation.