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Summary
“Wha—Trafalgar?!” he said, trying not to yell too loud. He wouldn’t want him to know just how scared he actually was to be in that position.
“Clown-ya,” Law purred. “What’s with that sour look on your face? I didn’t bring you over here to cut you up, not that I could anyway.”
He shook in his boots. “Of course you couldn’t! I am the great Buggy, and a little rookie like you could never hope to win against me, especially not here. You wouldn’t want to risk your position, now would you?”
“Position?” Law moved in closer to Buggy, pressing their chests together and a knee between Buggy’s legs.
“I could think of a few positions I’d like to try with you, if you’re interested,” Law rasped as he brushed his lips over the shell of Buggy's ear. “But, if not, we can walk away like nothing happened.”
Law is working his way through the other warlords, and Buggy is his next target.