his love is my favourite | Koby x Luffy

his love is my favourite

The thunder of deafening music echoes in the crowded establishment and Koby shifts uneasily. Heavy feet bounce against concrete and Koby reconsiders his plan hastily-this won't work. It's not a good idea, he tells himself, even as his feet carry him forward, and the cluster of feverish bodies grows denser. More alive-twisting around, striking him with boney elbows and bumping into him with little care. But with Helmeppo's words in the background of his consciousness, he is nothing but determined (and a tad bit-okay, a lot, terrified of the outcome). But, similar to a rat, or devil, on his shoulder, the familiar voice of his best friend slithers into his ear, corrupting: just be confident-you're friends. What's the worst that could happen?

For the record, Koby would like to state that a lot could happen. And of that lengthy list of scenarios, more than half end with Koby moving to a different country with a new identity. So, Koby is absolutely justified in the sweat that paints his brow as he dodges the jab of a shin and dives forward until he reaches the stage, dead centre amidst the back wall. With low neon lights casting a dim glow across the dancefloor, the atmosphere of the club is gloomy. The only real, potent light source is the one that gazes down upon the band. The Straw Hats, clad in their matching-but-also-not-matching attire, which consists of varied white tees and tank tops-black jeans, with rips and cuts. Something about being presentable, Koby recalls Nami saying, but it had mostly flown over his head then, at the sight of Luffy glistening with sweat, across rippling muscles-it had stuck to his skin, revealing his toned chest and lithe frame. And shamefully, Koby couldn't tear his eyes away, since.

Unfortunately, that has yet to change as Koby's stare remains glued to the wild movements of Luffy as he strikes at cords and lets out a grating sound-blending in with the chorus of instruments, to manifest an abrasive melody that encourages people to move. It's not Koby's type of music, but he hums along, regardless. He is familiar with all their songs, after all. Every beat, chorus and lyric ingrained into his heart, just the same as his childhood best friend, who stands proud amidst his group of people. It's enticing, the way his hair sticks to his tawny beige skin and the way the light envelopes him like a halo, proclaiming him an angel with an affinity for guitar solos. The thought almost draws a snort from Koby and it would have, if he hadn't been trembling with anxiety. In reality, he doesn't need to be here-to attend their showing, or listen to the loud, intrusive music, but he does, because it's Luffy. And there's not much that Koby wouldn't do for the man. A scary thought, to be unpacked later when Koby is in the comfort of his own home and beneath the warmth of his comforters. Maybe.

Despite having no need to be here, he stands at the front and watches with rapt attention, eyes unfaltering from the object of his affections-desires, since he was old enough to learn what the word meant. He sings along absentmindedly, the lyrics of his friends' songs falling from his tongues like sweet honey, even as aggressive as they are by nature of their genre.

Luffy's wide eyes blink open in a daze, his eyes sweeping across the crowd until they land on Koby-who surely sticks out with his downy, sakura pink hair. They brighten within an instant, a grin tugging at Luffy's lips as he suddenly goes rougher on the guitar, leading to the catchy part of their song. The crowd goes wild, but Koby stands in silence, fixated by the image before him.

Perhaps from the start, Koby had been destined to love such a terrible man. Who tugs at his heartstrings the same as he does his guitar. Doomed, just the same as Eve, who bit the apple at the gentle persistence of a snake-he, too, would devour God's holiest creations at Luffy's command.

His heart stutters as the song wanes and Luffy calls out his thanks to the club, as they welcome on the next band and prepare to take their much needed rest. Koby does not miss Luffy's beckoning hand-and like a moth to a flame, a bee to a flower and a lovesick boy to his heart's greatest need, he follows.