You knew Shanks drank, you just didn't realize how much. He easily drank as much as Nami or Zoro but didn't handle it nearly as well in the morning.

He'd managed to get wasted two times in the past few days but at least he was considerate enough to buy enough alcohol to replace what he downed. You actually couldn't complain too much about it, everything he bought was top shelf and he was always willing to share. The mess of bottles and glasses he made at night would always be cleaned up by him first thing in the morning as he grumbled over his hangover. In all honesty, the worst part about his drinking was it made him flirty when it was just you two.

It was an interesting change from how he usually acted when he was drinking with friends. He was still boisterous but he focused his energy on chatting you up instead of talking shit like normal.

Even after going through your first change with him being around, sometimes stressing you out more than you already were about going furry, you still found him to be good, attractive company. So when he decided to start complimenting you out of no where, halfway through a bottle of whiskey or sake, you went with it. It was funny listening to him try to win you over and in the morning, he'd seem to forget about ever doing it. You'd find a good time to tease him about it when you went out with him and his friends again.

And like before, he'd once again spent the night before drinking more than necessary. You'd stayed up late together watching a slew of comedies at his request to help lift his dampened spirits. He'd spent the past few nights trying to go out on hunts unsuccessfully and it was beginning to get to him. The nice government folks that were on the look out had apparently been staking out all his usual spots, so he'd told you, and he'd hadn't found a chance to get what he needed out of them. The risk of getting caught was too high.

When you got up that morning with a slight hangover, having tried to keep up with Shanks' impressive pace, you decided coffee was in order. It'd be a good way to wake up and nurse your headache. Shanks would probably appreciate it too anyway.

You crept out of your room towards the kitchen, doing your best to move quietly as you got the coffee maker going. But you'd learned Shanks was a light sleeper not long ago and knew he wouldn't stay asleep for long, especially not with how small the apartment was. His spot on the couch wasn't really all that far from the kitchen.

Sure enough, he woke with a groan, rolling over and tucking his head under the blankets. There was a thump as his arm slipped out and hung to the floor, knocking a beer bottle down in the process.

"What time is it?" He grumbled. All you could see was a mess of red hair that bobbed slightly as he spoke.

"Um, a bit after nine." You answered after checking on your phone.

"Fuck." He hissed. "I shouldn't be this tired."

"When's the last time you had a successful hunt?"

".....A week ago."

"And how often do you usually go out?"

"Once every few days."

"So you've missed, what, two, three hunts? That'd do it." You smirked as you reached into one of the tall cabinets, stretching to get to the box of protein bars. It was a new addition to your diet that your cat half seemed to appreciate.

"I need to get something tonight."

"What happens if you don't?" You turned around to see he'd uncovered himself and sat up.

He was slowly picking up the bottles scattered around him and neatly placing them on the table to be tossed later. He waited until you sat by him and offered him a bar before answering.

"I get sloppy. More slip ups, people start to notice things. And then if I go for too long, I can actually 'starve' in a way."

You bit into your breakfast and chewed slowly as the fragrant scent of bitter coffee began to fill the air. "So you need whatever you get from people to survive. It's like a food?"

He frowned before using his mouth to help open up the wrapper to his bar. It looked smooth when he did it. Lots of practice does that you suppose.

"Only in the way that I need it to survive."

"So you don't actually eat anything."

Now he smirked as he looked at you. There were heavy, dark bags under his eyes but even with how tired he had to be, he found the energy to chuckle. "Still no luck figuring me out yet I see."

"You know, if you're struggling so much and I know now you don't cannibalize people or kill them or whatever, why don't I help you out?"

The offer caught him mid bite and was surprising enough for him to start sputtering, having almost inhaled his food. He hunched over, coughing and holding his fist to his mouth for the sake of decency.

"You know, even people who know what I am don't offer themselves up like that." He wheezed.

"I didn't realize it was such a big deal?" You gave him an awkward pat on the back as he continued to try to hack up what went down the wrong way. "I mean, it can't be bad if you aren't really hurting anyone. It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No." He sighed and leaned back. "No it doesn't hurt but it's more of the idea of it that people don't like."

"That makes zero sense but okay. So do you want the help or not? You wouldn't have to go out and risk getting caught."

Shanks looked you up and down, like he was trying to figure out if it was his best option or not. "You don't know what I am yet or what you'd be agreeing to."

"No but I'm sure you'd be nice about it. You were for my shift so I don't see why this would be different."

"And you still don't want any more obvious hints?"

"Nope."

"So you'd rather figure out through experience?"

You shrugged. "Sure why not?"

"And you don't think it'll change how you see me?" He seemed unsure but more like he was willing to humor the idea. With as important as this was for him, you didn't doubt that he was tired of being tired and didn't want it to get worse.

"Nope. You can't help what you are, it is what it is."

"Those are confident words for someone who has no idea what she's trying to get herself into."

"Yes or no mister." You huffed. If you could handle shifting, you were sure you could handle whatever he needed.

"You work today, right?"

"Yeah, midday shift."

He nodded. "What about tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"Here's the deal then, if you're still interested in offering yourself up when you're back from work today, we can try."

"Just try? Why not just get it done? And why does it matter if I work tomorrow if we're doing whatever it is tonight?"

"It's not that simple." He covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. "You'll get it if you decide you still want to help. And it's going to be tiring on your part, you're going to want to take the day off from pretty much everything tomorrow."

"Well that works for us." You grinned. "See? This'll make things easy for you and I'll figure out what exactly you are. It's a win-win."

"I'd almost rather tell you in case you want to change your mind."

"No." You scowled. "That ruins the fun."

"Right." Shanks sighed. "The fun. I could really use an aspirin and coffee right now."

"Coming right up." You hummed, getting up to make a cup of coffee for each of you while he began gathering the bottles from last night.

Whatever it was Shanks needed, you trusted him enough to not worry about what exactly he did with those he "hunted." As far as you were concerned, he wouldn't do anything to harm you, you were confident of that.

The rest of the morning came and went without the topic being brought up again though you could tell it was still on his mind. It didn't take a genius to see it had Shanks a little worried. He stayed pretty quiet up until you had to leave for work, like he was lost in thought, and almost antsy.

You'd been a shifter long enough to begin noticing the subtle changes in the scents that came off of people as their moods and hormones changed. Weird as it was, it was coming in handy. For example, with your temporary roommate when he started getting almost jittery, his scent became more sharp and tinged with a hint of sweetness. If it wasn't for your job, you wouldn't have been able to guess what exactly that meant.

Anticipation.

Like when you brought food to a table of hungry customers, he had a similar reaction. Comparing his need to food may not be as far off of an analogy as he thought. That subtle change was common in the restaurant and you'd been able to pinpoint what caused it pretty fast. He was unsure but also excited to finally get his fix after missing out for so long. Armed with that knowledge, you couldn't come back after work and decide to change your mind.

----

The work day went by slowly. The lunch rush was nothing compared to dinner and never seemed to last quite as long. That meant you found yourself struggling to stay busy between serving tables when there were lulls in the customers. Most of that free time was spent absentmindedly staring out into space, trying to piece together all the information you'd gotten out of Shanks. It was frustrating.

You were sure you had all the details you needed now to tell what he was but you still couldn't put a title to it. It was one of those times where it was practically on the tip of your tongue yet you couldn't get it. You were sure when you figured it out, you'd be annoyed with yourself.

The closer it got to the end of your shift the more you were practically bouncing up and down, too curious about what was going to happen when you got home to care about the strange looks you got from coworkers. All the staring and questions people asked about your changes were becoming normal and they didn't phase you as much as your first day home. Then again, you had your excuses figured out pretty well at this point and people bought them easily. Telling them often enough made the little lies practically flow from your lips like they were the truth.

When it was time for you to go home, you didn't linger. Your inner supernatural fangirl didn't die down when you became a shifter and now it was begging to finally figure Shanks out. It'd been about three weeks since you met him, two since your shift and you still had yet to figure it out.

Once home, you were greeted with the sight of him sprawled out over the couch, remote in hand with his thumb hovering over a button. You'd caught him in the middle of channel surfing and a quick glance around told you he'd cleaned a bit while you were gone. He swore he worked but he always left after you did and was home before you as well.

"How'd work go?" He asked.

"Slow, nothing crazy." You kicked off your shoes and made your way to the couch, waiting for him to make room for you.

It was like he knew exactly what you were thinking. His expression was serious as he moved his legs and turned off the tv, right to the point. "You're still okay with this?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

"You're free to change your mind at any time."

"Noted."

With that, Shanks gave you a small smirk and pat his thigh. "Come here then, let's get started."