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Law’s leaned against the upstairs balcony, the raucous crowd below him showing no signs of stopping. He had to abandon the party much earlier than the rest of his crew, the exhaustion quickly catching up to him. There’s a lot to celebrate, especially for the people of Wano, but three days straight is just too much for his mental state.
Below him, it appears no one else feels the same way, the celebration as jovial as the day they’d won. They cheer and drink, utterly impervious to Law’s internal conflict. An internal conflict that will soon become external if Luffy doesn’t start talking. Or stop talking. He’s not sure which one would be better.
Law stares and blinks once, then twice, nonplussed. “What.”
Luffy repeats himself as easily as he’d spouted it the first time, entirely unbothered. “I wanna be with you. Only you. Forever.”
Law’s brain is a blank slate, spinning through emotions like a roulette wheel. Usually, anger or frustration is a safe bet when dealing with Luffy, but he can’t even wrap his head around the statements long enough to procure an answer. He’s tempted to make him repeat himself a third time.
It also stands to be mentioned that Law is well into tipsy, having spent these last three days like Zoro on your average Tuesday. “Like… alliance wise?”
“No,” he rattles off immediately, then pauses to think. “Well, yes, but no. I just wanna be around you all the time.”
“Forever.”
“Yeah.”
If Law stares any harder, he’ll put a hole in his head. “…So you want to get married.”
“No.”
Is he missing something? “What you’re describing is marriage.”
Luffy huffs, clearly tired of repeating himself. “I don’t wanna get married.”
“But you want to be with me forever.” He just barely chokes out the last word, still reeling.
“Yes,” he sighs, happy that Law has gotten it.
Law definitely has not gotten it. His left eye twitches. “You’re describing marriage!”
Luffy’s visibly frustrated that Law’s not getting it, the cape behind him swaying with each aborted movement. “I already said I don’t wanna get married!”
Law’s jaw starts to ache with how tightly he’s clenching his teeth. He finally snaps, “Why are you so stubborn?!”
“Why are you so stubborn?! You make everything so difficult!”
“Look who’s talking!” he yells, nearly hysterical. A few people glance up their way at the noise, and Law takes multiple deep breaths, dying his voice down.
He rubs his temples and tries again, this time much quieter. “Luffy-ya. Can you describe to me what you want exactly because I’m sure I don’t understand,” he grits out. “I can’t be with you forever; I can’t be with anyone forever. I have to leave.”
“I know that,” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “but when you come back, I want you to come back to me.”
Oh. That sucks the air out of Law’s lungs in one, then stirs up heat in the pit of his stomach in the next when he realizes he’s actually genuinely thinking about it.
Luffy doesn’t even know him! He doesn’t know what Law wants to do or see or how long it’s going to take him. He can’t just say shit like that.
God, he’s so selfish. Law has things to do. He can’t stick around and play housewife forever.
And more than that, he’s mad he wants to so badly. Furious at how he can see it, can see them coming back together over and over again, happy and perfect like they’re not fucking pirates.
Like Law hadn’t had both feet in the grave two weeks ago. Like he doesn’t want and want so many unattainable things already.
Seething, Law fists the collar of Luffy’s open shirt. “Look, I’m not-”
Luffy’s mouth against his successfully shuts him up, his lips hot and wet, tongue teasing through a gap in his teeth. His fingers stutter in their hold, and Luffy takes the opportunity to move closer, his hands moving to cup his face and drag Law into him.
Luffy devours him, and it’s all Law can do to stand upright. Each kiss rocks Law through a harsh wave, and his mouth is moving, fists pulling closer before he even registers.
Once he starts, he can’t stop, kissing so fervently his jaw aches and his lips sting. Luffy’s bare stomach teases him, fingers itching to feel the bisecting X outside his grim operating room.
But he can’t. He wants every inch Luffy’s willing to give; having him this close is making him fucking crazy, but he’s saying no. This is a no that is getting out of hand because his body won’t listen to him.
His fingers tighten in Luffy’s shirt instead of loosening, and his lungs burn, heart pulling his chest tightly. He wants more; he wants to push so close there’s a space carved for him in Luffy’s chest.
Instead, he focuses on kissing Luffy harder, keeping his mouth and brain occupied before he blurts something he’ll regret not regretting.
Luffy kisses him so much kinder, like he has every moment in the world, and when he pulls back, Law bites his lip so hard he draws blood. “Luffy,” he breathes with what little air is left in his lungs. His eyes don’t open, his hands don’t move. He can feel Luffy’s chest expand with every breath and puff softly against his cheek.
“Law,” he says back, so close their lips graze. His voice is haggard but soft, quieter than he’s ever heard it. The hands on his face thumb his cheekbones, and Law’s chasing the feeling before he can think twice. “Think about it,” he says and lingers for a moment before disappearing.
Law’s fingers brush his lips like he’s never been kissed before, then slide up his face, gripping the roots of his hair. He has the awful feeling that’s all he’s going to be able to think about for a while.
…
Leaving Wano is about as easy as he’d anticipated, his crew’s sobbing and prolonged goodbyes deferring their cast off.
To be fair, they probably expected Law to come back alive from Dressrosa as much as Law did, which is to say not at all, so he supposes they have a few things to be grateful to the Strawhats for.
The noise carries on to their departure, and Law hears their cheers from the navigation room below deck.
It’s muted by the time it makes it to him, the white noise filling his mind, drowning out any other unnecessary thoughts, albeit temporarily. If Bepo notices his preoccupation from beside him, he doesn’t say anything, working overtime to get them below the surface.
The further they get from shore, the more of his crew come trickling down the steps, pitching in. It makes Law useless rather quickly. His hands and mind twitch, idle, as he steps back to allow his crew to work.
God, he hates aimless thinking. Luffy is not a problem to be solved, nor is their relationship (whatever it may be at this point) a problem that Law has tools equipped with solving.
He’s not-- He’s never--
They’re rivals, okay? It’s a terrible idea, point blank.
Typically, two people vying for the same thing tends to invite argument between them. And conflict. And general disdain.
But Luffy had to fucking kiss him and touch him and whisper so softly against his mouth like he wasn’t asking for an impossibility.
Law cannot think about it. It’ll drown out any other thought in his head until he’s consumed by Luffy and what could be. He has enough fucking could-be’s.
The captain's seat in the navigation room welcomes him like he never left, and he watches as Ikkaku takes them under, Wano drifting into an unspecified point in the background.
It’s easy slipping right back into his role as captain, not thinking twice about the orders he gives, or how timely they’ll be completed, or to what capacity, or if they'll even be followed at all.
It’s a different feeling, being with his crew. One that comes with a different level of responsibility that keeps him focused, hell-bent on protecting them at all costs.
That occupies him, and his thoughts of Luffy and his, well, proposal, are pushed to the back of his brain for however momentarily, fading faster the farther away they get.
Late at night, when the rest of his crew is sleeping, and Bepo’s snores rise both his and Law’s chest, the thoughts will find him again.
They’ll seep out the corners of his brain, and he’ll chew it up over and over again til it’s unrecognizable. Then, as he drifts off, they’ll come again in dreams, much more appetizing and perfect.
For now, though, he wants a break — as long as a dreamless moment will last him.
Despite his best efforts, it’s barely three months before he sees Luffy again.
Luffy possesses the gravity of a red giant; it’s the only explanation he can fathom. He was sucked into orbit before he realized it, and he honestly doesn’t see himself leaving it of his own will anytime soon.
Reluctantly. He’d die before admitting just how much space he’s allowed Luffy to occupy in his brain.
Even beyond his inability to not be present in Law’s life, Luffy also manages to reach everyone around him. He has the very unfortunate and consistent ability to fuck shit up everywhere.
And it seems there is absolutely no distance Law can go to escape the devastation.
Law watches the storm rise outside the window of the bar he sits in, marines whipping around town, turning every stone over.
It’s an insane amount for such a small island in the middle of nowhere. Certainly enough to be considered a military occupation. Under any normal circumstance, it’d be more than enough to capture any one, particularly unruly, normal pirate crew.
A guard rushes in with a gust, another one hot on his heels, the twin doors swinging shut behind them. They stand by the bar to address the patrons as a whole, and the clamor dies instantly.
Sweat beads on the guards’ foreheads, their eyes wild and darting between the near-empty bar and the rising squall outside. The gaze of the one in front is piercing, and he declares in not so many words that anyone harboring a pirate will be met with the same swift and just force as said fugitive.
Law eyes them from the booth he sits in, pretending not to recognize the wanted poster crushed between the main one’s fist. One last flustered gaze around the silent room, and the guards are out the door again in a flurry.
Sounds start back up in a mulled whisper, heads hunched, and Law sighs heavily into his near-empty stein. Damn. And he’d had dreams of getting another one.
Law drains his glass, silently cursing out the windstorm of a man that manages to crash any downtime Law might work to acquire, however unknowingly (though that’s the most irritating part).
They had been here first; he feels that’s important to clarify. Makes his frustration feel all the more righteous when he stomps out the bar through the front door, not a soul sparing him a second glance.
There’s absolute affray in the streets, impromptu questioning and searches sending the local people into a tizzy. The marine soldiers pay them no mind, carrying along down the busy street.
Law weaves through the crowd, eyeing the faces of the residents. He wonders if his crew has made it back to the Tang yet. Shopping wasn’t typically an all-day affair for them, but with the way they’d been going, everyone sprang at the chance to stretch their legs. He doesn’t see their faces here…
Worrying is useless. He’ll just have to trust they’ve made it back at this point. Besides, the Heart Pirates aren’t the ones currently in high demand.
A fresh wave of marines barrels down the street ahead of him, all with a sense of renewed vigor. Tsk. Law sidesteps into the alley to the right of him, dead set on getting back to his crew without problems.
He’s sure no one has any idea that he and his crew are on this island right now, and Law would like to keep that true for as long as possible. This alley will be good enough to hide out for a few moments as the craziness quells.
It’s like a storm of them rushing through the streets on either side, blending into a cacophony of shouts. Law does his best to mind his own business and pretend that said business involves this particular alley for some reason.
He barely makes it a few feet in front of him before another person is slamming headfirst into him, coming from the opposite direction, no doubt with the same idea in mind.
Law winces, stumbling back against a garbage can. Hands rush to catch him, and Law swats them off, eye twitching. How hard is it to watch where you’re going?
“Oh! I-” The person starts, then stops, hands stilling. “Torao!” he hears, and all ensuing anger melts, worthless. Of course. What even is his luck?
Once Law blinks the stars out of his eyes, he’s pulled right back into Luffy, back into three months ago and every night in between.
He’s basically shirtless; what else is new. Flushed like he ran a race, grinning like he won. And the longer Law looks, the faster it morphs into something cheekier, an eyebrow raised. “Are you following me?”
It’s coated as sugary-sweet and half-honest as Luffy can make it, and it drives him crazy. Law ignores the uptick in his heart, gritting his teeth at the thinly veiled insinuation. “I was here first!”
His bark is easily waved away, Luffy’s laugh hearty amidst the absolute chaos around them. It’s impossible to retain any semblance of control over the conversation with him, and Law’s learned long ago not to even try.
Around them, most marines barrel ahead down the street after a figment of their imagination. Still, a few dip into businesses across from where they stand, turning over trash cans and grilling harmless passersby. Every so often, they inch closer.
Law sighs, the blue glow of his roomquickly filling the space. “Your work, I presume.” He doesn’t even bother specifying what.
Honestly, Luffy need not go into detail; based on his m.o., Law assumes it has something to do with an unjust system in place, righting wrongs, and an ensuing bunch of unpirate-like antics.
Luffy (Luffy, Luffy, who is here, Luffy, who is standing in front of him) doesn't get the chance to answer anyway, an officer across the way beelining to where they’re camping out. Law doesn't think twice, swapping Luffy with some trash sitting behind the dumpster.
He can only hope he has the wherewithal to stay quiet, but, you know. It’s Luffy.
“You! Sir!” the marine shouts, and Law’s ensuing sigh is full-bodied. What happened to getting back to his ship without interruption?
Luffy happened, he reminds himself. Sigh.
The marine is heaving gasps by the time he makes it to him, but his gaze is piercing. He’s holding out Luffy’s wanted poster before he can even catch his breath. “Have you seen this man?”
Law must have been a dick in a past life to be continuously seated with Luffy like this. And the way his traitorous body is in on it, too. He can’t dream without seeing him, can’t eat without thinking about him, and when he finally feels that maybe, maybe, he can get his shit together, he fucking shows up, making more trouble.
He’s here smiling, laughing, having the time of his life. Ruining Law’s.
Law barely even glances at the paper. Wait, actually, is that new? “Him? No, never in my life.”
“Right.” The marine levels him with a look like he can tell he’s lying. “And you’re aware that harboring a criminal is a very serious offense that can and will be met with—”
Definitely new. Luffy’s outfitted in white, looking like a puckish cloud, the same smile stretching his cheeks. His bounty is astronomical. “Yeah, yeah, force. Swift and just. Got it.”
“Sir-”
“Look,” and Law’s getting really tired of this really quickly. He was in the middle of a conversation; he hasn’t even told Luffy off yet. And how shitty are you at your job that you don’t know when you’re talking to a pirate, “he seems like a pain in the ass, so if I see him, I’ll point him out.”
Law’s not budging, and eventually, eyeing the sword on his hip, the marine goes away. He watches him warily, all the while shirking back down the street.
No way that’s not coming back to bite him in the ass. He could swap him right now, dump him in some unidentified creek or something, leave him for—
“A pain in the ass?”
Law looks up, and Luffy’s managed to wrangle himself out from behind the trash. He does his best shimmying past the empty cans and broken glass, but it’d be precarious for someone half as clumsy as Luffy.
A quick shambles and the trash is back where it belongs. Luffy stumbles at the sudden change, catching himself before he can tackle Law to the ground.
“All the time,” he replies, and it’s then he notices the hand he brought up to steady him.
Law rips his hand off Luffy’s shoulder like it’s on fire, and his cheeks burn like the flames caught up his neck.
Now is a perfect time to check for marines that are not in an alley nor in his direct line of sight.
Why is this so embarrassing? He’s touched Luffy before. He’s done more than just touch Luffy before… Not that that’s a thing that he’s thinking about.
“Thanks,” he hears Luffy say. He’s unsure which part he’s talking about, but he hums anyway, scratching the bridge of his nose.
A short silence bridges the conversation, and Law leans into it. It’s… nice being with Luffy like this. He enjoys their quieter moments, as incredibly few and far between as they might be.
There’s a shift in the air between them as Luffy steps back. “It’s good to see you again,” he says, and it’s his tone that has Law turning his head to look at him.
For a moment, he’s brought right back, even before that night in Wano. It was tedious and exhausting, and in no way does he miss the immense stress he was under. But…
Fuck, there’s just something about being around Luffy, trapped in his cycle, that just fogs his brain. He can feel it here now, too, under the weight of that bomb, waiting out the explosion. Unsure if it’s anticipation or dread. Or if it’s come already, and this, that he’s lying in, is the devastation.
Honest to a fault; headstrong with everything, everything, but not this. Why did he kiss him? Why does he want him to do it again?
“You just saw me,” he manages.
Luffy reads him. There’s no other possibility as he watches Luffy’s sure gaze turn something he’d call fond on anyone else. His lips lilt up in a teasing smile, soft and knowing. “It’s always good to see you, Torao.”
Words stick in the back of his throat and the roof of his mouth. He can’t figure out what to say fast enough, and then it doesn’t matter — they’re interrupted again. This time by the same marine and company following closely behind.
Luffy’s name isn’t the only one hurled into the air, making now as good a time as any to take his leave. His room opens and expands, stretching past the streets in the far corner of the island, as close to the dock as he can get.
He turns back to Luffy and finds him gone, Law left alone in the alley. The marines approach faster, guns wielded, and Law stalls for a moment longer before swapping to a street close to his ship.
The cries are much further now, shouts echoing in the small town. Law doesn’t look back, turning the corner and boarding his ship.
He does a roll call once he steps foot on what serves as a deck when they’re above sea level, happy to discover he was right in assuming they’d all made it back some time ago.
A short discussion later, and they’re off again.
Out the glass, Law watches the darkness of the ocean rush past them. It’s a quiet moment he allows himself now, one that happens so infrequently, and fuckfuckfuck.
Law will see Luffy again; he knows that. By now, he recognizes there’s no way he’d ever manage to avoid him, but this time, he’s not so sure it’ll be as easy to pretend he’s forgotten.
Law’s fingertips graze his top lip absentmindedly.
He’s so fucked.
It’s another year before he meets Luffy again, at least for long enough to have a meaningful conversation about anything.
After a fight that Law hadn’t meant to be part of and really had tried everything possible to avoid.
It’d been sky-splitting, and any sane being not tied down would’ve known to get outta there. But.
He’d seen him.
Somewhere between the catastrophe and typhoon, sea brine dousing the face of anyone dumb enough to be on deck, they’d seen each other.
The storm had rocked his (new, goddammit) boat, nearly sending them topside. The sky split open under the attack, heaving buckets of water every which way. His clothes hugged his body, lashes fused together under the weight of the water, too sluggish and weighed down to do their job to any capacity.
His body jerked with the current, feet sliding underneath to meet it, but his hands… He couldn’t seem to move his hands.
They laid still but tense, knuckles white with grip, on the railing as he peered half-blind into the endless rage of the ocean. Just a few moments longer. A few moments, then he’d corral his crew out of here.
Somewhere along the way, it became a need, a decision he made once and then never again. He recognized it, didn’t dare question how it started; the desperation, fear, and every sentiment in between he’d felt in Dressrosa as he lay half-dead in a sunflower field, still lingering in the back of his mouth.
He needed to see Luffy win.
It’d morphed since then, of course. He kept no emotional stake in the fight except the walking, talking pain in his ass ripping the sky apart.
A few more moments and then he’d be sure, and whatever part of him that’d locked his hands to the railing would be sated, and he’d leave this sea and its tumult behind.
And then he’d seen a speck there, just hidden behind the horizon. It vaulted up, closer, and rose above the waterline.
Way across the way, there was Luffy, suspended in air for barely a breath. His hair whipped around him, out of time with the wind.
Law’s grip eased, Luffy’s token smile unmistakable. Mid-attack and beaming like the sun. It was more than enough for Law. It took only a passing second, though, and that gaze left the clouds.
It stretched past the heavens and down to where Law shivered, drenched on the flat of his deck. He peered back, their eyes meeting between blinks, and then Luffy dropped back down, another rushing riptide sent bulldozing into the side of his ship.
Their eye contact had been brief, but. Well, Law had always been a weak man.
Which is exactly how he finds himself here on the Straw Hat's ship, on another island they'd managed to help liberate. The party around him rages on, spanning the length of their pirate ships. Considering the recency of his ship, he’s more than glad it’s contained primarily to the Straw Hat’s Thousand Sunny.
People pass by him on their way to refill their glasses — mainly people who’d lived on the island, but he catches a few familiar faces. There’s laughing and dancing like they hadn’t been seconds from losing their lives only hours ago. Or, he supposes, like they had been.
He can still picture their expressions during the fight. The worry, the fear during Luffy’s stumble, the inevitable joy and relief when he came out on top anyway like he always does.
The loose weight in their shoulders is as achingly familiar as the setting. He sees Bepo a ways away, happily awaiting what must be thirds, the Strawhat cook all too happy to oblige.
It really is something that Strawhat does. Selfless, despite his best efforts, and kind, despite his worst. All together unpirate-like, but something nonetheless.
It’s endlessly, heart-wrenchingly familiar. He was a different person when on this ship last, in every way distinguishable. His attitude, his goal, his crew…
Amidst the tinny smell of sea salt and Worcestershire, Law gives in, lets the memories ease his muscles and tighten the grip on his tankard.
“Torao!”
Speak of the devil.
His name is called from across the deck, and Law hates how many heads turn to look. They watch the whole way Luffy approaches him and lose interest when the question of who is answered.
His gait is slightly off, like his limbs grew three inches overnight, but he hasn’t realized. He can’t even call what he does in front of Law a stop because he doesn’t, legs tangling between Law's bent knees.
Law startles a bit as he catches him. “Mugiwara-ya,” he greets in surprise, as though he didn't watch him stumble his way over here.
He looks the exact same, barely a year older. His hands find Luffy’s hips the same.
Luffy doesn’t resist the hands on his waist, teetering forward as though to tell a secret. The joy in his face gives it all away. Barely contained in his glazed-over eyes that still manage to glitter like the sky above them. “I saw you.”
He’s assuming that he means during the fight, though with Luffy, it could mean ten minutes ago. Nonetheless, he’d seen him ten minutes ago.
“I saw you too.”
The smile on Luffy’s face breaks open, something soft and unfocused spilling out. He sways where Law holds him, though his feet never move. There’s a flush high in his cheeks, just barely visible in the low lighting.
The pads of Luffy’s thumbs tickle the sides of his neck, palms resting on his shoulders. They graze the sides of his throat, riding the ridges. It’s very, very distracting.
Wait. He couldn’t be-? “Do- A-Are you-?”
“Do you wanna get outta here?” Luffy interrupts, suddenly so incredibly close to Law’s face. He’s only ever been this close once before, and Law has to fight to un-Pavlov himself. Anything above the nose will work.
It’s a socially uncomfortable level of closeness, paired with the unsteady rock of his body that can’t just be attributed to the boat they’re on, that answers Law’s unasked question.
He wasn’t aware Luffy drank, given that it never seemed appealing to him, and Law himself could live with or without it. Then again, how long ago now had Dressrosa happened?
Law raises an eyebrow. “Get out… of your own party?”
Luffy stands up, clumsily extricating his limbs from Law’s. “It’s not just mine,” he says like that’s the end of that. “Besides, there’s something I wanna show you.”
And just like that, he’s turning and walking without a second thought as to whether Law might or might not be following him. Law watches his clumsy strides as he tries to carefully weave around people. Asshole.
Absolutely typical. Honestly, he probably wants to show him some random bug he found somewhere on the island or a weirdly shaped rock. Hell, this is assuming he makes it there to begin with, his directionally challenged-ness second only to Zoro.
In fact, it's crazy how the seat beneath him has suddenly gotten so much more comfortable. Law leans back in his seat, playing with the condensation dripping down his glass. Luffy’s back shifts through each turn and stumble, muscles stretching the shirt, his movements confident. He stops shortly and surely a few feet ahead.
When he turns, it’s slow. Head tilted, he turns to him and says, “Please."
Fine. He guesses a walk isn’t the worst thing in the world.
He catches up with Luffy, watching the knowing smile ease every inch of the way. His cheeks still color pink, one sunken just a bit, squished between his molars. It would’ve never helped anyway; Luffy’s eyes will always be the death of him. He watches them track his face now, hand reaching out, stalling, then dropping back by his side.
“Let’s go,” he says, turning back around and leading them off the ship.
Law is so endlessly weak.
It’s been a whole year since he’s seen him —he can’t stop thinking about it.
Within that year, Law’s been through so many changes, so much overall shit, that it’d be disingenuous to imply Luffy had taken up even 10% of his brain. New ship, smaller, (mostly) new crew. More overwhelming waves of self-loathing.
He’s had a lot on his plate.
Somehow, keeping himself alive has proved more difficult the more alive he gets. He’s kind of getting sick of the curveballs.
He’d never go so far as to say he much believed life would get easier from the incredible low of his early life, but there are some things he thought he could prevent. Some things he thought he’d outgrown. Some people he thought he could protect.
Though despite the harrowing, un-promised days, Luffy has reigned dominion over his nights. It’s a frustrating and steadily increasing habit that Law can’t seem to quit.
It’s like seeing him again has awoken something that Law would have preferred remain buried. His nights were plagued with that first confession from every different angle that his exhausted brain could think of.
They’re every bit as perfect as fantasy. An idyllic world where Law says the things he thinks without fear of his own judgment or desire for the ensuing consequences.
And here he is in all his glory, reminding Law of what he’d tried so hard to forget. What he wants so badly it’s not a want anymore, making a home amongst his lungs and stomach, one and the same with the proteins in his bones.
He looks at him now and sees the perfect encapsulation of joy he’d seen only hours ago making a home amongst the sky, rising then rising still, past the point that Law could see. It’s a feeling that’s existed for a while now, growing, ticking in the back of his brain. This won’t last forever. He won’t get Luffy like this forever.
There’s no indication Luffy has any idea of where they’re going. He follows him nonetheless, trudging through the loose sand in his leather boots.
Luffy hums a lighthearted, made-up tune the whole way. Law thinks to say something, but nothing comes to mind. An entire year it’s been since they’ve seen each other, and Law’s tongue can’t manage to unstick itself from the roof of his mouth.
This doesn’t stop Luffy, of course, never content a moment free of the sound of his voice.
He comments on everything, from the seashore to Zoro’s sleeping habits to what he ate for dinner last night. He sidetracks on a longer story for a moment, recounting a particularly exciting sea beast they’d fought a few months back.
Law walks and listens, humming in intervals, reminiscent of Morse code pips. At one point, Luffy commends him for how chatty he’s being. The shut-up comes easy.
“I’m happy I got to see you tonight, Torao,” he says once his laughter dies down, breezily and as candid as ever.
His voice drops a bit lower, as serious as he can manage with the occasional slur. “Everyone deserves a night to have fun.”
Law inhales. Tomorrow, they make for Lodestar. Right.
Out of nowhere, Luffy decides, “Here’s good,” and plops down on a grassy spot further up, patchy with sand, his arms and legs spread. Law eyes a less sandy area and sits much more carefully beside him, crossing his legs.
Luffy watches the sky, face crinkled in content. There's sand peppered throughout his hair. Some looser strands sway in the salty air, obscuring his forehead and eyes every so often, and Law has to tuck his hands between his thighs.
He can’t help but watch him for a moment, almost incredulously -- the unbridled ease in his movements.
There’s a fleeting moment of envy that he can’t help. It’s not his carefree attitude (because Luffy is not carefree -- he knows this well enough. He worries, he grieves. And Luffy cares about a great deal of things to such an intensity it surpasses care), but his surety.
Luffy knows what he wants and does what it takes to get it. There’s no calculation involved; he keeps the means as simple as the motive. And it’s second nature to him; that’s what boggles Law’s mind. Under lack of duress, it’s reassuring, but Luffy’s always had a way of sneaking beneath Law’s skin on the best of days.
“You can’t see the sky from there,” Luffy complains, tugging at Law’s sleeve. “Lean back more.”
Law keeps from pointing out the sky stretches miles wide above them in every direction. He couldn’t miss it upside down. Instead, he sighs and complies, leaning back against his elbows.
The waves are the loudest thing in the darkness, crashing against the dock and the shoreline just a ways away. Luffy’s humming fades into something softer, carried away by the sea.
When Law speaks, it’s barely audible. “What are we doing out here, Mugiwara-ya?”
Luffy doesn’t jump to answer, focusing instead on the glittering sky above them. A beat, then an open palm stretches upwards.
“Wait, wait for it,” he breathes distractedly. Law does.
A second passes, then, “There!” A finger reaches up and traces the tail of a meteor that streaks through the sky.
Law watches it pass, and then the next one that follows, and the one quickly after that. Soon enough, they’re caught in a meteor shower, banding the sky in fine lines of pure white.
“A shooting star?” he asks, turning his head to where Luffy lays, eyes pinned to the sky. They gleam, shining not only with the brilliance of the light show. It’s beautiful. “You’ve seen those before.”
“Never with you.”
Law can’t think of anything adequate to say in return, and Luffy doesn’t seem to be awaiting an answer, but it stays all the same, gumming up the inner machinations of his heart and brain. He can’t enjoy the hailstorm of comets, much too focused on the awe pervading the lines of Luffy’s expression — the way his eyebrows raise and his features soften, smile lax in the low light like he catches something familiar in the stars, looking as though for all the world there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
“What are we doing out here,” he asks again, not desperate, not yet, but he’s nearing it.
“I told you,” he says, eyes still glued to the sky. “We leave tomorrow. I wanted to see you.”
Law’s tongue moves, trapping itself against the back of his throat. His next breath is ragged, staved off by his own unconscious will. “You didn’t say that. Not that part.”
Finally, (finally,) Luffy turns to look at him. The stars stay, twinkling, their shadows curl over every dip and jut in Luffy’s languid posture. “I always want to see you,” he says, just so, and not the ocean itself could mimic the ease with which he says it. With which it flows from him and pours over Law until he gasps for air.
The sand pillows his hair and dots the soft lines of his face and eyelashes. It’s still, like Luffy — ever the observer. Above them, the sky shines on, space rocks burning up in their atmosphere, and here Luffy watches him with warm eyes, salt-stained curls whipping in the sea breeze, and Law is pulled right back under. “I want to be with you, Law. You know that.”
Did he know that? He knew that. Then why does this feel like the first time?
“Luffy-,” he says because he can’t say anything else.
“I know,” is the answer that comes, and Law has to turn away. Has to watch the stars race across the sky. Has to allow himself the now and the next hour to pretend that he has said all that he wants to say, that the hope will follow the heavy heart, that tomorrow, though they part ways, they will meet again on purpose and fall together every whenever in-between.
…
Six months later, to much fanfare, Luffy becomes pirate king.
It’s every bit the event he’d expected it to be. The ensuing celebration is revelrous, dwindling into the wee hours of the morning, only to start back up the following day.
It carries on for a week straight before the Straw Hats embark on a world tour, parading down the other side of the grand line. Countless ships follow them. Law’s is not one of them.
The main deck is silent. His crew occupies the levels further down on the ship, leaving Law alone, pressed against the railing, watching the contrasting situation across the gap. They’d already had their (reluctant) goodbye, many, like Bepo, having a hard time reconciling the fact they truly may never see the Strawhats again.
Nothing has to change, realistically. They’re all after their own goals, just like always. The holes in the World Government are begging to be peeled apart, and god knows Luffy will always go where his will and the wind take him. Nothing has to change; he knows that. But it will.
Across the gap, the Strawhats bustle around the Sunny, preparing for their long journey. Their cheers and yells carry along the calm sea between them. The silence of his own ship creeps along him like a chill.
(It’s his own fault. They’d been holding their breath all week. Law chose to ignore it. He’s still choosing to ignore it.)
He doesn’t see him at first. The figurehead is left bare, the rest of the crew active and about. Kitchen, he thinks, then the crew must be keeping him away on purpose. It’s not exactly outside the realm of possibility that they have him tied up somewhere. Then the sails unfurl, and the ship turns, and there he is.
Luffy’s leaned against the stern rail, black cape fluttering in the wind. His head’s propped up by a hand, gaze listless, and it takes Law two tries to swallow. It’s far, but he looks happy, and that’s really everything that matters. But of course, right?
This is what he’s wanted, in a way that’s more than want. He’s known that he could get it, that it was achievable for him from the start. He worked, and he got it, and he’s happy. And Law’s happy for him, seeing the relentless training pay off, seeing the joy in his face.
His heart squeezes, threatening to detach itself from the confines of his chest. It’s painful and so irritating and stupid. He drags a hand down his face, rubbing his temples and scrubbing at his eyes. What the fuck is wrong with him?
Luffy catches his eye when he looks back up. They’re farther away now, and his expression is hidden by the distance, but Law could never miss the weight of that gaze.
Law stalls, watching him. He could almost look nineteen again this far away, but there’s a quiet power lingering in the way he carries himself, in the line of his shoulders down to the arm he’s now using to wave at him. It’s soft and subtle, the distance between them slowly growing, and that’s what breaks Law more than anything.
Further and further away they crawl, words tickling the back of Law’s throat, unintelligible like a puzzle he doesn’t have the pieces to. There’s nothing he can do to fish them out, and the ships sail on, long past his line of sight.
It’s a certain finale, after all the time they’d spent together. Law rebelling against the possibility of being referred to in the same breath as them, as though he retained no individuality. Having to reconcile that with what he wants (because he does. He wants it. It’s asinine to deny it any further, not when he’s this far gone).
What does he do with that, what does he do? It sits on his chest like an anchor, tying him to the sway of the waves, the vast empty sea around him, the sticky metal beneath his fingers. To the fire beneath his skin and his veins that itches more than burns, that pulls, that craves, that wantswantswants.
He doesn’t know how to have both. To keep himself in someone else. To have, to hold, to keep.
Especially not when that someone is Luffy, whose gravity has captured the whole world and half of Law’s.
A loud crash sounds from below deck, followed by yells and shushes. The shushes are more intelligible than anything, defeating the entire purpose, and Law breathes out a chuckle.
The sun bears down heavily onto the deck, heat reflecting against the metal and roasting Law where he stands. The sea is the calmest he’s seen in a while, no doubt forewarning of horrendous weather, and he can’t give this up, he refuses.
He’s wallowed enough, he decides, pushing off the railing. There’s a fight he needs to break up and a loose thread in the World Government he’s just dying to unravel. Dealing with the consequences of his future actions can come later.
He knows where he’ll end up, can feel the tug behind his navel, but for right now, he wants to fuck shit up.
It’s grey and cloudy when he finds Luffy again.
It’s a random fucking spring island in the middle of the Grand Line, and he knows he’s here, has been for months. His crew does, too, not bothering to ask why when they change directions. He couldn’t give them a proper answer, anyway, escaping the room to a chorus of yes, captains.
They dock next to the Sunny, and it’s the first place he looks, sending out a room before the Tang can roll to a stop. When he finds him, he shambles’ himself with Zoro, who’s lying predictably out on the lawn like any prospect of rain could stop his nap.
The lawn is just as he remembers it, especially having spent the majority of his time here. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised the Sunny hasn’t changed; he imagines their shipwright works hard to ensure it doesn’t, but it’s still uncanny.
He takes the steps to the upper deck two at a time but falters when he gets to the last one.
From there, he can see the only other person on the ship perched atop the lion figurehead, not flinching at the light rain either.
He knows Luffy knows he’s here, probably has since before he sent Zoro flying, but just the sight of his back is stealing the voice out of his throat.
He manages to reach the deck, and it’s then Luffy spins around, wide brown eyes sparkling with mirth and dewy from the rain.
“Luffy-ya,” Law manages a beat too late, and it comes out more breathy than he’d like.
God, is he a sight for sore eyes. “Torao,” Luffy says, a smirk tilting up the side of his mouth, and Law uses the room he still has up to swap them into the library and out of the rain.
The room is dimly lit, brightened through what little light shines through the grey clouds outside and in through the windows.
It’s enough for him to just barely make out Luffy’s face, smirk settling into something more lascivious. His eyes are darkened with no help from the low lights, and it makes Law’s breath catch in his throat.
Luffy’s lean but broader, and his movements are surer, coming closer faster than Law can keep up with. There’s an edge to his smile that wasn’t there before, but this close, in this light, it’s hard to remember that anything’s changed.
Oh, he thinks, well, one thing has.
Law’s hands are on Luffy faster than he can process, plastered against his face and arms and hips and face again. A groan slips out when their lips meet, a muffled noise that reverberates through his open mouth and down his body.
He’d feel embarrassed if he wasn’t too busy feeling everything else. Luffy’s arms pull around the dip of Law’s back and hold there, tugging him forward.
Luffy still kisses like he breathes, in and out methodically and rhythmically, and Law chases after his mouth with every one. Sometimes his hands will stutter on Luffy’s face, fingers twitching, and Luffy will pull him that much closer, speed up that much faster.
Every hot slide of a warm tongue against his has Law melting, driven insane by the same man that thought a business partnership meant they were besties. That jumps headfirst into danger because he made a promise.
That thought he could confess to Law the way he did and Law would remain sane.
He finds himself pushing the boundaries on purpose, nipping Luffy’s lip on the edge of too hard, nails biting into his cheekbone, almost to convince Luffy he’s still here. Or to convince himself.
He presses himself so close to Luffy, crowding him up against the desk behind him, but the space from before is still there. An insurmountable gap like the one on the deck and it seeps into him, an itch crawling its way beneath his skin. Law kisses Luffy harder, would-be bruises pressing into his skin.
Luffy gasps, burning fingers splayed wide and igniting his spine with every graze. Law falters into the kiss and thinks there’s nothing he wouldn’t give to hear that every second of every day.
“You came back,” he sighs, lips pressed against Law’s. There’s no waver in his voice, no room for question in his tone. Law came back. He did. Then why doesn’t he feel like it?
It’s selfish how much he takes from Luffy, how much he’s already taken, but his fingers are glued to Luffy’s face, roots already deep beneath his skin.
“But not for good,” he starts, like he suddenly has to explain himself. “I’m not abandoning my crew, and I’m gonna travel without you, and I-”
“Shut up,” Luffy says suddenly, and pushes Law into the seat behind him.
Law stumbles into the chair, scowling at the manhandling. “Don’t tell me to shut up,” he snaps, but kisses Luffy right back when he bends his head forward, body moving automatically.
Luffy puts his hands against the armrests, pulling and pushing Law into a slow and soft kiss. Law grips Luffy’s wrists, heart racing, and it’s so much like nothing changed that he has to pull back.
“I’m gonna leave again,” he blurts, and his voice breaks halfway through.
Luffy’s unfazed, pressing kisses down the column of his neck instead. “I dont care.”
Law’s eyebrow twitches in frustration, but he tosses his head back anyway, giving Luffy as much space as he needs. Luffy takes it easily, pressing Law further into the back of the chair.
Law keeps his gaze cemented on the ceiling. Six months ago, a year ago, hell, back in Wano that first night under the splintered roof spilling moonlight along the cracks in the floorboard, and he’d thought to himself then how he’d never allow himself to have this. This, that he’s taking so greedily now.
The warm feeling of Luffy’s kisses has his eyelashes fluttering shut, and he wrenches them back open. He does not deserve this. “Luffy-”
Luffy interrupts him with a bite on his throat, laving a warm tongue over it quickly after. “I don’t care,” he repeats. “You’ll be back.”
“How do you know?” slips out of Law’s mouth before he can think twice about it.
Luffy’s mouth pauses against his skin, not letting a beat go by before he’s laughing. “What a stupid question. You’re here now, aren’t you?”
The rack up of dismissive, non-answers has Law sitting up straight so fast he bucks Luffy off him. Luffy catches himself with a hand against the desk, predicting enough of it to not get hurt.
Somehow, that pisses him off more. “What does that even mean?” he grinds out.
“You’re making things difficult again,” Luffy sighs.
But he really doesn’t think he fucking is. If anything, Luffy’s making it difficult by not making it difficult.
Law stands, thinking to pace the room, but all he can do is watch Luffy watch him. “Why am I even here, Luffy-ya?”
And Luffy watches him evenly. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do, Torao.”
“Oh, you’re not?” he laughs humorlessly. “God, you’re such an asshole. You just come into my life and fuck shit up like it doesn’t even matter.”
The words spill out his mouth faster than he can keep track, riling himself up with every breath. “You had me thinking about this shit for months - years, even - and you’re here perfectly fucking fine because you what? Just knew? That’s bullshit.”
Law looks away, avoiding the flash of hurt in Luffy’s eyes. “You think I don’t care?”
“I know you don’t,” Law blurts out, the rope slipping through his fingers so fast it burns his palm. “You only ever do what you want, you don’t care how it affects other people-”
“Law, I love you.”
And with that, the rope is gone. He balks at him, frozen to his spot. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you fucking don’t,” he snarls. What in the fuck? Who says shit like that?
Luffy leans back against the desk behind him, his eyes never leaving Law’s. “I waited for you because I love you. I know you’ll be back because I know you love me.”
Law nearly chokes on nothing, his jaw slack. Air evaporates from his lungs so fast he’s lightheaded. “I- You-”
He could count the number of times he’s seen Luffy look so serious on one hand and still not tick every finger. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
Law swallows, lie thick on his tongue. “You can’t just assume-”
“I’m not assuming anything,” Luffy says, his eyes softening. “I know you love me because you can’t tell me you don’t.”
Law can’t look at him, collapsing back into the chair behind him. It’s like those four stupid words broke something in his brain, and his fingers tangle in his hair to keep from reaching out, lifting the hat on his head precariously.
“I hate you. I hate you so much,” he mumbles, holding his head in his hands.
Luffy laughs softly, sliding the hat off his head. His fingers run methodically through his hair, brushing loose strands off his forehead then back by his ears.
“Mm, love you more,” he hums, tugging every so often on Law’s scalp. It feels so good Law chases after his hands in a way that would have had him flushed from head to toe not twelve months prior.
He thought, idiotically, if he didn’t have a plan, Luffy couldn’t ruin it. As if Luffy was a wrecking ball for Law’s plans specifically, and not just Law.
As if he hasn’t wanted this, only this, for longer than he cares to admit.
Luffy’s hands stop carding through his hair to rub his thumbs against his temples. When Law picks his head up, they shift again to cup the sides of his face.
From this close, Law can really look at Luffy, and he realizes, belatedly, that this is probably the first time. Luffy’s soft around the edges, eyes warm and wanting.
He watches him like there’s no place else he’d rather be, no one else he’d rather be looking at, and Law waits and waits for the urge to run to come. “You're mine, Torao, from now ‘til forever. You promised.”
It doesn’t. “I didn’t promise shit.”
“You're here right now,” he says, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “That’s a promise.”
The to come back remains unsaid, but Law hears it anyway. “Sounds a lot like marriage, Luffy-ya.”
Luffy pouts the same way Law had expected him to. “I already told you I don't wanna get married.”
Law laughs in spite of himself, more breath than sound, and pulls Luffy into another kiss with a hand on his chin.
Luffy moves with the kiss as slow as ever, fingers gliding along his jawline, and Law lets him. Luffy’s tongue moves slowly and purposefully against his own, and shivers weave down Law’s back like yarn.
His hands have nowhere to go, so he places them on Luffy’s chest, his fingers spreading and expanding with every inhale. Aimlessly, he re-examines every dip and divot of Luffy’s scar tissue, thumbs skimming his sides.
Just to be an asshole, Law prods a newer bruise with a fingertip coated in haki, and Luffy jolts, biting his lip in retaliation.
His smile breaks the kiss, lips pressed to teeth and tongue. A huff, and Luffy’s pulling him back into the kiss further, breath puffing against his face, and Law’s gone.
The slow dragging and pulling of the kiss, lips and tongue lingering against his, has his eyes rolled back into his head, lost in LuffyLuffyLuffy. When he wants more, he takes it and can feel Luffy doing the same.
And when they pull away, he opens his eyes, drinking in each covetous glance and flicker in Luffy’s gaze, knowing the same is reflected in his. He stares long enough it should be off-putting, should set off alarms in his own head, let alone Luffy’s, but he can’t look away.
Luffy licks his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, the resulting sheen making Law rock forward, feeling burning from Law’s gut through the tips of his fingers and out the bottoms of his feet.
The heat in Luffy’s eyes flays him alive, splitting open his chest and spilling his insides out all over the floor. He doesn’t know where to look, can’t believe he can have it all.
I’ve never wanted someone else before. Not like this. I don’t know what to do, he thinks.
“I’ll come back,” he mumbles instead.
“I know,” Luffy says, and it sounds like a promise.