#⚡️the adventure of a lifetime | young verse

[godlivesonthemoon-archived]

@calmcorvus​

He's not great at romance – but he would try, just for Enel. A small treat for when he'd finally return home. Rocinante knew candles were required, table set nicely with the moody lighting as a centerpiece, and the lingering smell of burnt food suggested he had cooked something as well. Despite that, he was just finishing hanging a (similarly charred) apron up when he heard the door, greeting the other with that big grin. "Welcome home...!"

There’s a suspicious smell emanating from their home, and Enel feels slightly surprised and worried to discover another catastrophe. Nothing reassuring when it comes to his tall fiancé, quite eager to please Enel is the most romantic way, but often failing because of his natural clumsiness. It’s honestly a miracle he has been able to live until now, and while Enel eventually steps in the room, he’s at first utterly content to discover that his blond man is still alive, healthy, and that their home is still standing. He offers a happy smile, while he skirts the table, his index brushing the wood, arctic eyes contemplating the plates and candles with soft eyes. That greeting though and his smile… Dear lord, Enel could set the world of fire to see it every day.

“Scheming behind my back, I see?” Enel purrs, always so content to be the center of Rocinante’s attention. He rolls his arm around his waist, looking up, eager to dig his eyes in the endless whiskey-honey pool of his lover. “What’s the occasion?”

He’s afraid for one second that he missed something important, his attention sometimes drifting along with his mood, his only way to remain calm and composed when Rocinante is around. He doesn’t mind the horrible smell of the burnt food invading his nose at the moment; he would happily eat poison for the man he loves.

“But wait, I have something for you. I think it would be perfect for your table.” Enel remembers, standing on his tip toes to press his lips at the birth of his jawline. Ah, he always wants to touch him… He feels like a magnet driven by his favorite piece of metal, and dragged there, plastered against his favorite person. He turns around to grab his bag, retrieving two large sunflowers he found on the road back to their home. Abandoning his grip, he quickly finds the largest vase of the house, filling it with water before he displays the flowers on the table, walking back to Rocinante.

“What’s for dinner?” He asks, circling his waist, urgently pressing his lips all over his collarbone. “I’m starving, and I have a certain idea of what we could have for dessert.” He smirks, unable to tame his everlasting pervert nature. Though, he appreciates the romantic attention, and wouldn’t spoil the moment, gently skimming Rocinante’s fingers. “I love you.”

[godlivesonthemoon-archived]

@calmcorvus

Despite the warm weather and bright sunlight, Rocinante was in full comfort mode, sporting his favorite striped sweater and a lazy smile as he approached Enel, standing by to wait for the other to set his book aside. Then he wasted no time in claiming that space previously occupied by anatomical plant studies, settling into Enel's lap as he swung his legs to the side over the arm of the garden chair, getting comfortable. Nevermind his innocent look, this wasn't his plan all along, nope.

It’s a casual afternoon where nothing has been planned, they are both following the rhythm of the world, lazy and relaxed. He cherishes those moments where they are allowed to breathe for once, forgetting who they are and what are their duties, only sharing the best memories. Seated and half lump on his favorite chair, Enel doesn’t bother looking up when Rocinante arrives, for once not stumbling over him, his feet almost gracefully walking over the green grass. Enel turns another page of his book, ready to take a few notes regarding the summer garden he’s preparing before he senses the needy stare of his fiancé over him. Certain that Rocinante wouldn’t walk away, standing like a gargoyle by his side, Enel looks up with some mischief in the eyes, and eventually pushes his book aside.

“What, now? You have some cuddling emergencies?” Enel asks, while his taller lover decides to claim his lap as his new throne, swinging his giant legs over the arm, testing at the same time the resistance of the chair, both of their bodies quite large for that poor item. “Mmh… You know I was studying for our garden, right?”

However, his tone is nothing but gentle, Enel hands automatically sliding around Rocinante’s body, one circling his arm, the other resting on the opposite arm chair, where he can brush the muscles of his back, hidden under the layer of his sweater. That’s probably the Rocinante he loves the most right now ; no uniform, whether he’d be the brightest or darkest one. He’s deprived of any mask, blond locks reflecting the rays of the afternoon sun, and his chocolate eyes gleaming with an aftermath of happiness and safety feeling. Enel secretly feels his pride swelling once again, certain that this state of pure blissfulness is only happening because of his presence. He’ll take the rewards anyway, a deep and content sigh escaping his throat, while he closes his eyes for a second.

Silently, he slides his left hand under his sweater, not seeking for any sort of sexual connection, but something rather intimate; the kind of touch he has never been able to perform on anyone else but the blond-haired man seated on his lap. He lets his fingers blindly follows the scars hidden there, each scratch receiving the most devoted attention, while Enel presses his cheek against his chest, his mind focused on the soft beating of his heart. It’s a melody he wouldn’t ever get tired of, always steady and calm, like background drums echoing as a quiet thunder, matching the pace of his own organ, whenever they are seated like this. While he continues to trail the infinite imperfections mapping his warm skin, all of them printed with memories, important, forging who Rocinante is right now, Enel slides his head up, his lips finding a shelter in the crook of his neck.

Rocinante tastes like a summer dawn, where the horizon is colored with the most vivid colors, red and purple dancing with ochre and silver, when the night is not entirely out and yet coming and enveloping the world like a soft veil. With the pressure of his lips, Enel can sense the strength of his training, the fragrances of rosewood and sandalwood coming from the products he uses to wash himself, marking his skin with manly scents Enel wishes to worship until the end of time because it smells like home. It should be forbidden to love someone the way he does, to be blessed by the adoration of both a demon and an angel, Rocinante’s morality always swinging at the edge of two worlds he’s terrified to fall in. One last greedy peek left onto his tan flesh, Enel eventually nuzzles there, unable to move.

“I wish the world could stop its motion right now…” Enel whispers, his hand traveling on his fiancé’s torso eventually falling down to cup his waist, his thumb describing gentle and slow circles. “To be God only to keep you there forever.”

[godlivesonthemoon-archived]

@penguin-of-the-heart​ from here

He wasn’t supposed to stay for too long on the Polar Tang, and yet he agreed to celebrate with them before his departure. Surely, he knows his presence can provoke a few tensions onboard, especially since he accidentally broke Penguin’s arm, yet, as the alcohol is flooding, he senses that everyone is eventually relaxing. He also appreciates the bitter beverage, conversing with either the captain or other members of the crew, his own spirit quite lifted. Even so, this is truly a surprise to sense something heavy pressed against his side. 

As he turns his head, he notices Penguin slumped on him, his face resting against his arm, pressing harder to have a proper comfortable spot. Enel raises an eyebrow, at first ready to push the man away - he doesn’t need anymore trouble here - somehow thinking that maybe Penguin missed his target. Though, as he hears his drunkard voice asking him in a mumble if he doesn’t mind, Enel smirks, almost like a vicious animal. 

“If I mind? Well, I’m not the one half laid on the individual responsible of my broken arm. Surely it reveals more about you than about me.” He teases, bringing his glass of sake back to his lips to sip on the warm beverage. “I wouldn’t thought you were among the snuggling ones, though.”

A soft chuckle escapes his throat while he rolls his arm around his shoulders, probably because he doesn’t wish the smaller pirate falling from the bench and hurt himself one more time. He doesn’t want to be blame for another of his injury. He hates being lectured. 

“I bet all the gold in the world that Law will scold you for that. But you know what? Drink with me, Pen.” Enel invites, pouring more alcohol in both of their cups. It’s definitely... intriguing. 

[godlivesonthemoon-archived]

@calmcorvus​

There's a fire indoors. Where a fire should not be. There at the dining table sits Corazon, an ashtray like a nest with one large flaming shape in the center of it, prominent and charred. It was a small loaf of bread, and the man bore the lighter of its undoing in his palm even now.

unprompted 

Busy taking care of the numerous plants outside, Enel believes that Rocinante must be occupied doing something else. Perhaps preparing his future mission, since their time together is unfortunately reaching its end again. As he cuts a few dry flowers from his aromatic plants area, he eventually smells something quite different filling the air. A scent of burning... flour? It’s hard to define, until the smell turns into something more recognizable ; bread, burning bread. 

Quietly worried about his lover and the presence of a fire near him, Enel eventually stands back up and grabs his iron watering can (just in case), coming back in the kitchen to notice the little fire in the middle of the ashtray. Enel raises an eyebrow, and leans against the door, clearing his throat. 

“Are you really sure you want to play with that?” He motions his head, pointing at the lighter with his nose, already smelling the catastrophe beneath the wake of bread. “Are you okay?” 

Rocinante is always a bit more secretive and cold when the time of goodbyes are coming, and Enel had to decode those behaviors, speaking the silent language of this giant man. Crossing the distance to meet him, Enel eventually wraps his arms around his shoulders, placing a soft kiss in the crook of his neck. He’s not the best either with words, but perhaps a tender embrace could soothe his doubts... If only that embrace wouldn’t turn into a harsh grip, as Enel notices the fire suddenly attacking Rocinante’s feathered coat with a ravenous inferno. 

“Fuck!” He throws the taller man on the ground, immediately running to grab his watering can, spreading the cold water all over his lover’s face and waist. As he squats down to pat the rest of the fire with his palm, he eventually sits down, rolling his eyes. Rocinante’s makeup is definitely ruined, but Enel can’t help finding him extremely cute... and too dangerously clumsy.