Chapter Text
Buggy had initially been very angry about it.
Seriously, why did he have the worst fucking luck? Why did it have to be him? Why the fuck had such a powerful person been startled enough by his flashy appearance to scream the name of the first attack that came to mind and dig his nails into him?
When I see you again, Ivankov...
There was no fucking reason for their paths to cross in the first place. Buggy's crew had just made a short stop at an island to stock up, and he'd been looking around a local market at all the colourful jewellery. So it was only kind of natural that he'd been distracted enough by the riches and finery to accidentally step on the toes of a tall woman in the crowd. He'd almost had the decency to apologise, before the woman had turned around and seen his face and he had seen her face and they had both screamed, then a reflexive attack was coming his way and he hadn't been able to dodge it.
Buggy didn't even realize what had happened to him. He just felt like he was dying for a minute, before the feeling faded away into nothing, and then he felt vaguely uneasy like something was off.
Ivankov, because that's who had fucking scared the shit out of him by unexpectedly being here, clasped his face to his hands in mortified horror.
"Oh, dear," he breathed. "I am so sorry..."
Ivankov pulled him out of the crowd into a musty alleyway before he could figure it out or start yelling regardless. There, Buggy had gone off on what an asshole bastard he was for scaring him like that and attacking him, until he realized that Ivankov wasn't saying anything the whole time, which was what eventually clued him onto the fact that something was very wrong.
So. That was how this whole fucking mess had started. A surprise encounter with a powerful devil fruit user who despite how crazy his own fucking face looked, had been so startled to see Buggy's that he'd yelled Emporio Female Hormorne! and sunk sharp catlike claws into his sides.
Ivankov had profusely apologized for all of ten minutes, none of which Buggy received gracefully, before delivering what was actually the final fucking blow: "I'm really sorry, but I administered you with a high enough dosage that it can't be reversed immediately. Any hormones I use on people only stay in their system for a while, but this one is more long-term...perhaps a couple of months?"
Buggy had turned the colour of a ghost. "A...couple of...months?"
Ivankov winced. "It would be too dangerous to attempt to fix it now. The safest way is to let it leave your system naturally. Understand that I don't usually use this move on people who don't want it, so I've gotten very good at making it last a really long time. You're kind of lucky it isn't several years."
That had been the worst day of his life, shortly overthrown by the day after that, when he finally worked up the nerve to crawl back to his crew in mortification and they'd all reacted just as well as you'd expect them to react.
Until the initial shock had faded.
And his crew had started to lick his boots more than usual.
And worship the very ground he walked on more than they already did.
It became clear that more than look down on him in his new form, they were all absolutely entranced. It was greater than the effect Alvida had had on them when she'd first joined. Much greater. Because to them, he was still their beloved Captain Buggy whom they idolised, except attractive and gorgeous and pretty with soft features that had a sharp edge and a commanding voice that had them feeling like they were being bossed around by a hot woman. If Buggy grumbled that the deck was dirty, five of his men would emerge from nowhere and begin scrubbing viciously, as if the wood had personally offended them. Normally he had to resort to yelling or mild scare tactics to get them to clean the ship. When Buggy complained about it being too hot or too cold, at least seven people would immediately appear with handmade fans or their thickest jackets and blankets.
Well, it still felt really weird to be in this body and he was looking forward to the day he got his dick back because why the fuck couldn't he take a piss standing...but for now, he could kind of get used to this. It was actually great compensation for the misfortune he'd been dealt.
They had dropped anchor on a small remote island a few days ago on account of bad weather. The very first thing his men had done as soon as the skies cleared was construct him a throne in their temporary base, which he was getting quite fond of, too, if only for the treatment he received when he sat on it every morning.
"What's that?" Buggy cupped a hand over his ear, leaning over the crowd. "I didn't hear you! Who did you say was the sexiest clown in the Grand Line?"
"CAPTAIN BUGGY!" came the roaring chorus from his crew, loud enough to make the trees shake.
Buggy shot to his feet with an overflowing beer glass raised. "WHO IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOWN IN THE UNIVERSE?"
"CAPTAIN BUGGY!!!!"
"That's right!" he took a deep, long swig and tossed the remaining beer carelessly in the direction of the crowd amidst feral screaming and cheering. "And who has the greatest tits in the–"
From her position stood next to him, Alvida shot him a look that threatened serious bodily harm. He swallowed down his words, clearing his throat. Right, she didn't take kindly to accolades that were she herself was eligible for because it was her thing first.
"I mean, who is the strongest sexiest clown captain to ever exist?"
Alvida rolled her eyes.
"Captain Buggy!" came the enthusiastic uproar, and somebody lit fireworks somewhere and they all started loudly singing his praises while he theatrically took a bow, enjoying this opportune show more than he probably should given that he hadn't even wanted this. But fuck it, he was an attention seeker at heart. Anything that got him this kind of hype was absolutely worth the price.
"And you'd better not forget it!" Buggy crowed, dramatically swishing his cape behind him as he disappeared mysteriously into his tent, amidst coloured smoke and flashing lights (a necessary installation), the cheers dying out long after he was out of sight.
He sat on a box and tossed his legs up over another one, snatching a bottle from his stash. Alvida ducked into the tent as he began drinking.
"You're really milking this, aren't you?" she commented, crossing her arms. "I thought you'd miss your manhood more with the way you acted that first week."
Buggy scoffed, motioning her over to share his drink. It was kind of weird how much his friendship with Alvida had developed ever since then, but he wasn't going to think about it.
"I do miss it. Why the hell wouldn't I make the most of this, though? Those guys worship me."
"Making the most of it," Alvida commented, accepting his invitation to drink, "Probably involves more than just taking advantage of your lovesick crewmates, Captain."
"What, it gets even better?" Buggy raised an eyebrow, appearing intrigued. "What else can I do with this form that I can't do in my normal body?"
Alvida snickered. "I don't know. Have a clitoral orgasm? Squirt?"
Buggy reflexively sent a knife flying her way, which she expertly dodged. It got stuck in the tent behind her, pinning the canvas to the tree bark outside.
"Don't be ridiculous!" he screeched, face bright red. "I'm not going to fucking— I'm still a fucking dude, okay! Why the hell would I want that!"
"Because it's so much better than what you get to have without those parts." She looked at him judgementally. "Also why would being a man have any impact on that? Pleasure is pleasure, anybody can want it."
"Piss off," Buggy grumbled. "I thought you were going to say something genuinely useful."
"I've seen you admiring your tits in the mirror," Alvida said, deadpan.
The clown sputtered, choking on his beer. He spat out a good mouthful.
"W-Well, naturally!" He jabbed a trembling finger in her direction, red all the way down to his new body's pretty, sharp collarbone. "I have great tits! This body is hot! Anyone would do the same!"
Alvida made a face. "I'm not sure how I feel about someone perving on their own body..."
"Shut up! You're way too judgmental!"
She sighed, exasperated. "Anyway, to answer your question, yes, there are other things you can do when you're a beautiful woman. Take advantage of it while it lasts. Like, find some lowlife pirates and talk them into handing over their treasure. Or convince some dumb Marines to give you something valuable they have, like information. It's a gift." She stood up. "Good talk, Captain."
"Huh– what, really?" He stared after her. "Hey, wait! I can actually just talk people into giving me their treasure? Wait! Alvida!"
The Red Force had gotten tangled up in a fierce storm for two nights straight, leading to an unintentional detour in their journey. Not that Shanks or any of his crew really minded all that much: in the Grand Line, you took adventures as they came, and all of them were too experienced to be disturbed by a little hitch in their plans.
So when the skies cleared and the sun came out, batting down a hot afternoon on the deck, everyone gladly used it as an excuse to bring out the booze and start drinking.
Shanks was getting pleasantly buzzed to the point of loudly humming a sea shanty when his crewmate at the lookout called for him.
"Captain! You're not gonna believe this!"
"Hm?" Shanks perked up, swaying to his feet. A couple of his men laughed good naturedly at his drunkenness, someone stole the bottle from him and pat him on the back, at which he only jokingly promised to get them back for it as he made his way to the helm of the ship.
"What is it?" he inquired. He was passed the lookout's telescope. It took Shanks a few seconds of trying to get his eyesight on straight before he saw what the man had called him here for.
A short, soft gasp was winded out of him as he realized he wasn't dreaming.
"That's his ship, isn't it?" His crewmate asked interestedly. "Buggy the clown? Am I right?"
Fuck, there was no mistaking it. Nobody else on the sea had such an extravagant and flamboyant ship that would be this visible from miles away, even docked in the small bay of an island and obstructed from view by foliage.
"Holy shit." Shanks slowly lifted the telescope from his eye. "That's definitely him..."
He didn't even notice Yassop sneaking up on him until he felt a violent stampede of supportive pats on his back.
"Well, Captain?" Yassop had the most shit-eating grin on his face. Damn, was he really that obvious? Shanks thought he was being subtle by only standing shellshocked in one place. "Do you want to make an extra stop? I'd say fate brought us here."
"Oh, fuck it." Shanks grinned. Everyone on this damn ship knew about his feelings for Buggy anyway. He revealed a lot of shit when he was drunk. "Let's go! Full speed ahead!"
Uproarious cheer errupted from his inebriated crew.
Buggy was admiring himself in the mirror.
Okay, fine, so what if Alvida knew he liked to look at himself? He was full of himself anyway, all the time. It was just part of his brand. So naturally, with a great new temporary body as gorgeous and sexy as his original was dashing and handsome, he was going to look at it, thank you very much, and no, it wasn't weird.
He was actually a really hot chick. Hell, if he saw this version of himself on the road, he would definitely go up to her and work his charm.
Or he would stare from a safe distance and keep his admiration well to himself because for all his obnoxious pride in his looks and charm, he wasn't all that experienced and had a grand total body count of maybe around three people.
One of which was Alvida, who'd just been bored and looking to let off some steam, so that one didn't really count as a personal accomplishment. Another being a drunken experience with a stranger he couldn't even recall.
And of course his first and only repeated tryst ever had been–
Buggy's face flamed at the thought. Do not. No. No no no. Stop that thought right now.
But the memories came rushing into his mind regardless, of sun-tanned skin and cheeks crinkled with laughter, of eyes that looked at him like he was the only person ever, and flashes of the colour red...
Stop. Stop that now!
Buggy groaned, slouching over in his position kneeled on the bed. He was back on the ship, anchored close to their little settlement, in the comfort and privacy of his captain's quarters. Nobody really disturbed him in here. He could bitch under his breath about Shanks as loudly as he wanted.
Well, putting those unwanted thoughts and memories aside, he really did appreciate the look and feel of his new body. He had to hand it to Ivankov. The man knew how to change people against their will in style. His reflection put on full display the lovely contours of his naked body, all smooth skin and toned muscles. His full breasts were heavy in his hands. He didn't go around trying to cover them up or contain them because who gave a fuck, he was going to damn well just exist as he always had and didn't fancy a wardrobe change any time soon, no matter how much it made some of his people bleed out of their nostrils. He couldn't imagine bras being comfortable anyway. Did women really need them? If it had anything to do with abolishing ridiculous wired uncomfortable underwear, call him a damn feminist, because in this new body that was a cause he could absolutely get behind.
He ran his hands slowly down the plane of his pale stomach, admiring the way the transformation had translated his musculature. This body was also strong. He appreciated that.
He trailed one hand further down, the other cupping one of his breasts. The lower hand abruptly paused when it reached his lower belly. The muscles jumped under his palm. Buggy squeezed his thighs tighter together, keeping his kneeling legs firmly shut.
This was the part he was afraid of.
Well– afraid was overdramatic! It was just– difficult to get used to. It was weird to look down and for his dick to just not be there. It was annoying as all hell to sit down when he had to take a piss because heaven knew how gross and dirty the toilet seats on this ship were.
And he was also way more curious than he liked to admit about how it would feel if he‐
Ugh, fuck Alvida for putting the thought into his head! He wasn't going to fucking jack off in this body just to see what it felt like! She was full of shit, it probably wasn't even that different! There was no way in hell he was going to lay a single finger on his...on his...
Buggy snatched his discarded clothing from the other end of the bed and started to put them back on, face burning. What the hell did he have to be embarrassed about?! He didn't even know why he couldn't just fucking give it a try. It was his own damn body and he had every right to do whatever the hell he wanted with it.
He startled nearly out of his skin when a series of loud knocks suddenly came at his door.
"Captain!" That was the frantic voice of Mohji. "Captain! It's urgent! We need you!"
Buggy frowned. Okay, what level of disaster did they have on their hands? He hoped it was something he could handle and not, like, a warlord showing up at their door or something.
"What is it?" he called out irately, doing up the buttons of his shirt. "You'd better not have disturbed me for nothing."
"Red-Haired Shanks is here!"
Buggy's heart stopped.
"H-He says he's looking for you!" Mohji wailed, sounding like a condemned man. "He said he comes in peace but I don't trust him! What do we do?!"
His heart was hammering loudly in his ears. It couldn't be. There was no way. Was he dreaming? He had to be making this up. There was absolutely no way that this was happening, now of all times.
Shanks was here.
Shanks.
And that alone would be cause for his every rational thought to shut down and for him to hide or run away immediately, but now there was the additional problem that he also looked like this.
Mohji banged the door again. "Captain! Help!"
Buggy snapped. Shanks wasn't going to hurt his crew. Shanks wasn't going to do anything he needed to worry about if he didn't see him at all, and this was his turf. His rules.
"Tell him to get lost!" Buggy yelled back. "I don't want to see his stupid face! Tell him that!"
"But‐"
"No buts! Red-Haired Shanks can fuck off to whatever crab hole he crawled out of!"
Mohji was silent a minute, before Buggy heard a miserable sound of acknowledgement before he slicked away, footsteps sad and heavy along the corridor. He ignored it. Ignored how rapidly his heart was beating. How a not insignificant part of him wanted to go out there, if only just to catch a glimpse of Shanks and remind himself of how good it used to feel to be on the same side, to be in each other's corner, to let Shanks look at him like he'd hung the moon. How he would do almost anything to get that back but his pride stood firmly in the way.
Well, and the fact that he certainly didn't want Shanks seeing him like this.
Shanks blinked, his brain working on backup power to digest the information being delivered to him.
"Buggy said...that I can stay, and that he can't wait to see my handsome face, and not to crawl back into whatever crab hole I came from?"
Behind him, a good chunk of his crew ooh'd and ahh'd in enthusiastic surprise. By his left shoulder, though, a now-sober Benn looked woefully unconvinced.
"T-That's right!" Buggy's crewmate stuttered, swaying a little on his feet with palpable nervousness. "That's exactly what he said, word for word!"
Benn sighed, ducking by Shanks's ear to do his unfortunate due diligence as first mate.
"He's clearly telling you the exact opposite of what that clown asked him to say," he informed him, because Shanks could be exceptionally airheaded when it came to his lost love. "Let's give up on this, Captain."
Shanks stood up abruptly, making the circus performer jump back with an undignified squawk. Shanks had a determined fire in his eyes that Benn did not like one bit.
"No!" he declared. "Buggy said he wants to see me, so I'm going to see him. Hey, thanks for delivering his message for me. Where can I meet him?"
"Uh." Mohji was sweating. For all that Red-Haired Shanks didn't seem like he was going to destroy them all, it wasn't everyday that an Emperor of the sea warped in front of them and demanded to see their Captain. Also Captain Buggy was temporarily changed now! It made him all the more nervous to think about how this dangerous man could take advantage of that. "Why don't you...settle down and relax for now? He's, uh, busy. You can use the hot springs on this island."
Shanks's eyes lit up at the mention of natural hot springs. "That's very generous of you."
Benn raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect Buggy the clown to be so hospitable." He was injecting as much skepticism and sarcasm into his voice as possible, but Shanks was completely deaf to the hints he was trying to drop.
Shanks turned around to his crew. "You lot could use a bath."
Everyone cheered. Benn sighed, tiredly massaging his temples. He supposed that with all the stress Shanks was causing him a dip in the hot springs would be quite remedial.
"Buggy said he wants to see me! Let's also have a feast!"
More uproarious cheer as everybody rooted for the success of their Captain's love life.
Benn noticed Buggy's crewmember sneaking away inconspicuously, so he called out to him.
"Hey. He means you guys too. Invite your crew."
The guy with the lion-head beanie went rigid with fear, turning white, before looking over his shoulder with a shaky grin and a thumbs up. Then he bolted.
Benn sighed.
Hopefully the clown would show up if his whole crew was coming. Maybe with a little alcohol he'd even talk to Shanks civilly...?
Buggy could not for the life of him figure out how his very clear message that Shanks and his band of losers were to get the hell off his island had somehow been interpreted as an invitation to dig their heels in and throw a big blowout party, but he wasn't the least bit happy about it.
Honestly! And his entire crew had joined in! How could they choose alcohol, food and music over the wellbeing of their own captain? Blood traitors, the lot of them!
The sound of raucous laughter and singing were inescapable in his cabin, and anywhere else on the ship. Someone would definitely find him if he chose to stay in his tent– a flashy pinstriped marquee with the word BUGGY in loud letters across the front. He didn't have many options.
Buggy tied his hair up into a ponytail and packed himself a bag of supplies. He could think of one place on the island nobody would come to look. And it would be good for him to relax when he was so...pent up and frustrated and battling complicated feelings about Shanks.
The hot springs would be good! Nobody would even think of looking for him there, least of all Shanks, who wouldn't know about the little natural hideout in the first place.
"Unusual to see you not completely hammered by this point," Benn commented mildly, taking a seat on a big rock next to his captain. The party was in full swing, everyone on Buggy's crew seemingly having forgotten their misgivings and fears about their crew, sharing drinks and food like they'd always been friends. "Saving yourself for him?"
Shanks ducked his head, a light blush colouring his cheeks.
"Am I really that obvious?"
Benn rolled his eyes.
"There isn't a single person on our crew who doesn't know. I think by now everyone has had firsthand experience with the Hostage Situation."
Shanks blinked, looking confused. "The what?"
"It's what we've started to call it when you get drunk and pick out an unlucky member of the crew to be on the receiving end of your...romantic pondering and poetry all night."
Shanks turned even redder. "Poetry?"
Benn nodded, fighting the urge to outwardly cringe at the memories that sprung up. Shanks was exceptionally blessed to not be able to remember things he said and did beyond a certain point of alcoholism.
"I...I see." Shanks cleared his throat pointedly. "That's awkward. Uh. On that note. Do you think he'll show up?"
Though the attempt at diverting their conversation was obvious, Benn appreciated it greatly. The last time he'd been in the Hostage Situation, Shanks had gone into incredible detail about the pirate wedding he wanted to have with Buggy, down to every last excruciating detail such as what he would be wearing, who would be on the guest list, which spring islands he was considering, and an emotional request to serve as his best man. He felt a chill down his spine just thinking about that night.
"No," Benn stated, plainly and simply. He didn't make a habit of lying to his captain. "If he hasn't made an appearance already, he's not going to. It's been two hours."
Shanks sighed, his shoulders dropping. He didn't look excited and optimistic anymore, like the whole thing had just been an act to convince himself that the chances were good.
"You're right. I really shouldn't have trusted what that guy said, huh?"
"It was obvious from the start he was full of shit," Benn pointed out dryly. Then, because it actually really sucked to see Shanks in such low spirits, he took pity on him. "But there's a perfectly good party right in front of you. Why don't we just go have a drink and forget about it?"
Shanks laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, I think I'll pass. Wouldn't want another Hostage Situation." He stared unseeingly past the festivities. Not really looking at anything. "I just need some quiet."
"You're not going to get that anywhere near here."
Shanks got to his feet, dusting sand off his trousers. "I know. But I've heard where I can find those hot springs. I'll go have a soak."
Benn raised an eyebrow, surprised that Shanks was choosing a bath of all things over the easier and more readily available option of drowning himself in alcohol. But why should he encourage drinking as a coping mechanism? Anytime Shanks didn't choose to do that was an improvement.
"Sure you don't want company?"
Shanks was already on his way out, waving his affirmation. His slippers left prints in the coarse sand. Benn watched him disappear into the cover of beachside foliage.
I should check up on him later, he made a note to himself. To hell with Buggy the clown and the inexplicable chokehold he had on Shanks's heart.
Buggy groaned, sinking up to the tips of his ears in the pleasantly hot water. Because the springs came from groundwater having no connection to the sea, he didn't need to worry about drowning. There was no understating how great it felt to be able to swim again.
It also felt unbelievably good to be on his own in a safe haven tucked away in the denser part of the island's forests, about twenty minutes' trek from where they had set up camp. There was no threatening local wildlife to disturb the peace; just pretty tropical birds and colourful lizards scurrying down the barks of crooked trees full of pink flowers. The whole scene looked like something out of a fairytale.
His long hair floated around him as he did lazy little half-laps around the perimeter.
Wow, it's so much nicer alone.
He leaned against a smooth black rock, directing his gaze up at the evening sky.
The first and last time he'd visited the springs had been nuisance fraught with chaos. He'd just wanted in on the fun when his crew was enjoying themselves. Alvida warned him not to go. He didn't listen, and he also wound up forgetting the effect his new body had on his people. Apparently showing up for a bath stark naked in a body like this was irresponsible as a Captain, because several of his men ended up near-drowned or with concussions from hitting their heads on the rocks when he made his flashy appearance.
He could faintly hear the party by the shore. The food and booze must've been nice, to get everyone going like that. He tried not to think of Shanks.
Buggy closed his eyes. Was that insufferable idiot even going to leave without seeing him? It was going to be a real pain in the ass to have to constantly avoid his detection while they were on the same island.
He turned his head to the side, resting his cheek on a shoulder. He opened his eyes to watch a pink petal caught in the gentle currents. It bobbed peacefully in the water, undisturbed.
It's been so long.
He sighed dreamily.
The last time they'd met had been an accident too. Running into Shanks on some island, in a crowded tavern in the dead of the night, when he was the last member of his crew left awake and with his wits about him.
But he probably had been a lot more drunk than he remembered. Because why else would he have stuck around to listen to Shanks, hanging onto his every word with hope?
Shanks was definitely drunk, because he was spouting complete bullshit. How he was so glad to see him and missed him so much, how he thought his long hair looked great, how he hoped this wasn't all a dream.
Buggy restlessly turned his gaze skyward again. A familiar pain spurred behind his ribs at the distorted memory.
Shanks, spilling his drunken heart out as if the words held any sober meaning. Shanks, looking up at him with earnest brown eyes and asking him to come back to his rented room at a local Inn.
His face felt hot. Other...parts did, too.
Fuck, for all his misgivings and flaws, Shanks was an incredible lover.
"No," he muttered out loud to himself, evicting those thoughts from his mind. "No, no, no. Stop. What the hell?"
He curled his arms around himself, sinking a little bit deeper into the pool. The sand at the bottom was silky between his toes. He tried to think of anything else.
Buggy was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice for the longest time that there were new ripples in the water.
Coming from the further end of the pool. He was almost hidden half-submerged in his corner. He didn't notice until a particularly loud splash.
Buggy startled, immediately sitting upright in the water.
He hadn't heard any voices. Was it a wild animal? Had his luck just run out?
He cautiously waded through the water, making sure to keep his head down. There was definitely someone– or something– in here. But he wasn't paying attention, he'd already lost track of which direction the movement had come from.
He turned around. Found himself a good distance from the edge, framed by smooth rocks with no foothold to climb. He stood up in the water. If he could just quickly make a run for the edge–
"Oh!"
Buggy near jumped out of his skin.
"I–I'm so sorry!" came a frantic voice from behind him. "I didn't mean to– I didn't see you in here, ma'am–"
It was a person! It was a fucking person, thank everything, not some bloodthirsty beast, but who the hell–
Buggy suddenly registered what had been said.
"Hey!" he shouted, turning around, jabbing a finger at the unwelcome intruder. "Who are you calling ma'am?! What did I say about that?"
Really! Everyone on his fucking crew had been warned not to address him as anything other than Captain Buggy, or Glorious Captain Buggy, or Seriously Amazing and Smart Captain Bugg–
Buggy choked on the air he was breathing when his brain took in the information his eyes were feeding it.
Standing up in the pool of hot water at the other end of his pointed finger was a man with tan skin, wide brown eyes, and wet, salt-crusted red hair.
Shanks was staring him down with an expression of dumbfounded shock, his jaw slack and eyes blinking faster than a pirate flag on a windy day.
Oh.
He was naked.
Wait, that wasn't all–
"Argh!" Buggy screeched, turning back around so fast he nearly slipped in the sand. "Stop staring at my tits, asshole!"
His heart was beating rapidly, ringing in his ears. A cold sweat broke out on his brow.
Shanks exhaled a loud, shaky breath.
"Buggy?"
He was fucked.