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"Where the hell have you been?"
Crocodile doesn't wait for Buggy to answer before looping his hook around the clown's waist and dragging him bodily against himself. He looks Buggy over– the smeared greasepaint, the rumpled clothing.
"Of course," Crocodile grunts, still not listening to whatever the clown is saying. "You didn't think I was lonely waiting up for you?"
He pushes Buggy against the wall, between his hook and looming body and he starts to roughly kiss him, cutting off Buggy's protests with his tongue.
"You're supposed to keep me company, clown," he reminds, before kissing him breathlessly again.