Chapter Text
The execution of Portgas D Ace had been for lack of better words, a shitshow. There was no body to show, no proof that the bastard child of Gol D Roger had been finally put down like the dog he was, yet that hadn’t stopped the powers that be from lying to the world. The grand escape had been covered up, brushed under the rug as a by-product of the escape from Impel Down and Straw Hat’s attempt to liberate Ace.
Drake had to give it to them, the whole thing was strung together so artfully, the retirements and movement of officers and other officials seeming like the victors resting in their laurels. He knew better though and had already helped borne the passage of paperwork that would make it seem like the reality of the Whitebeard pirates’ escape was part of a grander scheme, rather than a very stupid fit of passion.
Not that Drake wasn’t also guilty of such stupidity. Which was why he waited on the deck of his ship. The wood protested as he paced, a well worn path having long formed from such a nervous habit. Usually it was less the sickening sensation of fear and more of eager anticipation–the hungry feeling that came with memories of teeth against skin.
“We need to talk” …how fucking stupid. Drake cursed at himself. Lies were sometimes more comfortable than truths for a reason. Comfortable meant the status quo, an unchanging pace, and safety, but that had changed a while ago. It had changed the moment that Drake had considered throwing himself into the fray at Marineford to give the Heart Pirates a chance to escape. No…it had been before that, one of the last times he had spoken to Law in person for one of their many trysts, when the lines began to blur between that comfortable lie and that cold truth.
The water began to ripple as the Polar Tang bobbed up to the surface. Law… Even just saying the young man’s name in his head made Drake’s chest tighten as he crossed the deck of his ship, following the familiar path he used to board, for what seemed like hundreds of times. He knew the sub almost as well as his own ship by now, the small crew paying no heed to him except for a few smart remarks to summon Law up from wherever he was working.
In a sea churning with violence and change, Law was used to droplets of information dripping down to him veiled in vagueness and lacking context. Words like "We need to talk" carried no level of anxiety for him. There were no lines of flawless privacy to cloak one's words in, so face to face communication would always be preferred if time could be found for it, especially in the aftermath of...
Law rubbed his eyes, groaning. The artificial lighting of the sub aggravated the exhaustion of weeks spent shouldering the elevated stress of the hypervigilance necessary in Marineford's wake. The Marines openly sold their pretty stories of accomplishment and victory to every paper in circulation--but knowing first hand of their abject failure... It terrified Law.
They'd lost Fire Fist--literally stolen into a human smokescreen by one of the Marine's own. Thinking back on it, catching sight of the man flying across the field, his boots pounding against the broken and shuddering earth reminded Law of the auction house. Smoker had seen something revolting and the consequences of his actions no longer mattered when pitted against his precious justice. Law...had only been able to look on in disgust. The intel gathered had been priceless to Law, but letting the atrocity of each sale come and go hadn't been easy to swallow, it had been easier for him to keep his head down than risk his neck that closed to the Red Line.
Did Smoker regret what he'd done now? At some point before the Hind had hailed him, a snail Law hadn’t recognized had dialed into the Tang, asking assistance at his earliest convenience. The man on the other end claimed to be none other than Phoenix Marco–and judging by the droop in the snail’s eyes, it may have well been. With a little more digging to verify, Law would have to find the Marine to ask.
But Marineford...Whitebeard, ancient and struggling under the weight of wounds old and new, managed to cover the retreat of his adopted wards in the brutal melee. His survival struck a blow by removing a keystone trophy kill for the government. There was something about that old man that infuriated Law. To have a heart so brutally raw and open, making itself a home for so many... The cost of that had nearly killed him. It had been so, so close!
And that wasn't to say anything of Luffy--unyielding, unstoppable, unconquerable Luffy who had charged in screaming yet again, uncaring of the odds or trials set against him.
He still couldn't push away the memory of Smoker's white coat soaked in blood, with a brother under each arm. Of course, Ace went scuttled off to the Whitebeard’s new, makeshift flagship. They tucked him up and limped away as combatants still tore into one another, painting the field redder still.
Law couldn't remember his words from the moment, but he remembered Luffy unconscious and limp and something snapping. He...he shouldn't have taken him in. Law had goals. Concise, pointed goals with a bloody, violent conclusion. Now sitting ready at the crux of the Red Line, he knew already had an impossibly steep mountain to climb to reach his goals--he didn't need to join someone else's ascent!
But he finally couldn't look away. Couldn't stop. Couldn't quit.
...he wasn’t sure if he could afford the extra infamy where he was going, but he'd snatched it up anyway. Maybe...Smoker had been onto something.
Law pushed it away. Stupid.
He dug a bottle of painkillers from a drawer in his desk and popped the top off. Rolling two of the pills between his fingers, he ran the hours since his last dose. In the end, he shook off the concern and decided it would have to be fine enough. Drake was coming for god only knew what reason and the last thing Law needed was a gunshot of a headache drilling into him. Swallowing them down dry, he slumped back into his seat and winced: once for a single pill that lingered too long on the back of his tongue and the other for brief pressure in his ears--they must have surfaced.
So the Marines had lost their three big, beautiful successes in one fell swoop. Goodbye Newgate. Farewell sons of Roger and Dragon. There were new pirates in a new world now--the New World, and they'd somehow all managed to set fire to it almost immediately. Which was why Law couldn't accept the calm. It was why he could only relay messages face to face. There just wasn't anyone left to trust.
Law pushed himself back up and took a deep breath as he stood from his desk, straightening his rumpled clothes--Diez was...a man to fret when he needn't, so the more Law looked like a starveling shriveled in a corner, the longer it would take to prise out whatever information the man had brought with him.
With all of Diez's visits, no matter the reason--the sheer frequency of them had afforded Law with the experience to memorize the time it took for the other to reach his room--half sleeping quarters, half book-addled office. And then, as apprised, on time, there was Drake, frozen for his usual half-beat of his heart as he heard his name fall from Law's lips. It was silly, but endearing, and the familiarity plucked bitterly at Law's heart, still burdened with everything he couldn't find the way to offload.
Drake turned when he heard his name, skin prickling as a familiar warmth rushed over him. Even looking unkempt as he did, Law always struck a handsome figure and it made Drake want nothing more than to press close to him. To slip hands under his clothes as he pinned him against the wall and kissed him until they were both reeling. He shook his head and pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that if things went poorly, he would likely have those desires as nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. Then again, he could just forgo the planned discussion and carry on as they always had. He heard his name again and it drew him out his thoughts, back to Law.
“Sorry.” Drake cleared his throat and broke the short distance between himself and the pirate. He reached for Law’s hand, thumb running over the tattooed knuckles as he tried to find his words.
“Law…I…I love you. I have also been lying about a lot and it’s because of that and what happened.” He placed the hand he held against his chest and he sighed, feeling his heartbeat flutter at the sensation, “ I never left the Marines. I’ve been spying on the recent generation of Pirates to take down any threats that may arise, and that was my original attention by even starting an affair with you.” Another lie, but he couldn't tell Law that. Another secret to add to the bottomless well of them that he had been adding to since he joined SWORD. It was one he wished he didn't have to tell, but too much was riding on him keeping the truth buried.
“It’s because I love you that I wanted to be truthful about everything. I haven’t told the government a thing about you because you’re not…you’re not like some of the others.” He knew Law could be capable of some truly heinous things, but it was never without reason, though perhaps his own bias clouded his judgment. “I wanted to tell you here because if you wanted to kill me over it at least it could be on your own terms. I know what you can do, I know what your powers can do and if you want to rip out my heart, that’s fine. It already belonged to you.”
Law hadn't expected the immediate touch. It was hot, with anxiety flushed in Drake’s cheeks, as the man laid out his love in a rush of desperation.
Wait.
Law began to spiral.
"What?"
I love you
I have also been lying
I never left the Marines
I have been spying
The snap in Law's throat split his words in two. "W-what did you say?" The room had become a lake and the ice underfoot echoed mournfully as it began to buckle.
I love you
I wanted to tell you
He struggled to focus as he began to slip. The cold surged past his head, swallowing him up as his hand burned like fire against the bare skin of Drake's chest.
"I-I don't. I don--" What use did he have of something given freely? There was no bargaining chip in that. No safety.
Law stopped. Took a deep breath. Shuddered. Pushed it down. He pulled away, hands balling into fists. Packed it all up tightly. Then he sat, slowly lowered himself back into his chair, unable to find a home for his gaze. Reaching out to his desk, he tapped his personal den den mushi, connecting to the bridge. It sputtered briefly before someone responded.
"Captain?"
Law pinched the bridge of his nose and took a beat to steel himself. "Seal up. Take us down."
"Yes sir." The line silenced.
Law had no choice but to carry his weight. He raised his head, his voice frigid and his gray eyes colder still. "Shut the door. You're going to tell me everything."
For a moment fear surged in the back of Drake’s mind. They were diving and now he was trapped. This had gone over far more poorly then he had anticipated. He liked to think he knew Law well enough, with over a year spent together that he thought would at least act as a balance to ease the newly unearthed truths down.
Once a pirate, always a pirate… the unofficial motto of his colleagues echoed in his thoughts as he stood ramrod straight, the almost doe-eyed expression he wore around Law slipped behind the grim frown he usually kept. Stupidly, he’d come unarmed. Stupidly he thought that he could soften the blow, to let in a soft crack of hope that things could work out and be enough.
He closed the door behind though, the familiar sight and smells of Law’s room losing all the comfort they once had. “I suppose that is the least I can do at this point.” Drake kept his tone almost as icy as Law’s, the cold feeling offered up a barrier between them. Maybe this is for the better… he thought, his leather gloves groaned with each flex as he clenched and unclenched his hands.
“I am not officially on any roster anymore, you won’t be able to find anything outside of former rank, promotions, etc.” he explained, arms crossing his chest as he spoke, “There was concern about the increase of activity across all the seas, so myself and others have been dispatched as spies.” He knew Law wouldn’t be happy with any sort of vagueness, but it was necessary if he was to keep any sort of cover. He had already been reckless enough by becoming involved with Law in the first place and all it would take is one loose set of lips to bring any number of people down on his head.
“I don’t have to follow their orders, nor do I receive any help if anything I engage in goes awry. It allows us to do things that can’t be done in an official sense.” Like carry on a romantic affair with a pirate and help another Marine keep his head out the noose, Drake added silently. “As for what I said before, I mean it. It was an unintentional consequence because I allowed myself to drop my guard and I became attached to you.” He could feel the flush return to his face as he looked down on the ground, a wave of nauseating guilt suddenly hitting him. Law…I’m sorry.
“Trafalgar,” The surname felt bitter on his tongue, foreign in a way that bordered on painful as he spoke, “ I have plans, things I want to look into. Ever since Marineford, power has shifted. I know you were there and saw what happened.” Even with that frigid glare he wanted to kiss and hold the younger man. He looked exhausted, far worse than last time he had seen him on the archipelago. It made his heart ache a bit to see him in such a state, and the desire to try and become some kind of port in whatever hellish storm was brewing bubbled up within him. Unfortunately, that kind of thinking was for fairy tales, they were supposed to be enemies after all, not…lovers.
“Again, I have not given any sort of report on you or your crew. Despite the disgustingly high bounties you acquired, you don’t have the same kind of body count that Kidd or some of the others have.” Drake had asked his superior for any info that could be accessed about Law, if there was any. The answer he had received back had been cagey and full of holes, but more so for the sheer lack of information they had. Only his home sea had been listed, along with circumstances that had skyrocketed his bounty, some of which were unusual.
Tentatively, Drake broke the space that was between them again, hands raised, “I came unarmed, as you can see. I didn’t want this to be a violent confrontation and whatever your decision is, I would deeply prefer it to remain that way.”
Law...couldn't outright thank the man under these new circumstances–this pretense of peace and love, but providing this was the truth, he was grateful for a measure.
His brows knitted together briefly as tension peaked again behind his eyes. How was he supposed to keep all this together?
"Diez." Not even his sarcastic Diez-ya . He really couldn't call the man anything else behind closed doors. Habit was habit and...the alternative of the man's first name still struggled to be spoken, though not for the reason the other might believe. "If you really wanted me dead..." He shrugged loosely and forced himself to conjure a smile, fully aware it fell flat long before it reached his eyes. "--I'd be dead. And I have no intention to die..." Yet. "Not to you least of all. As you said, you know what I can do." he spoke softly.
As Drake pressed forward, the urge to bury his face against the man's stomach, his chest--reared up. It would be too easy to give into the ache and appropriate action had long been damned. What part of this had ever been intelligent? Law had effectively diffused any attempt at Drake's intel-hunt before it could be started. Nothing sensitive was ever anywhere within reach or even sight when the man boarded. Even Law's own responses to mundane questions were hand-tailored in the name of the safety of him and his crew.
"But, it's as you say--I don't want a fight either." Maybe he could use this. Somehow.
The water chilled so sharply, anyone else would have compared it to the plunging of knives...but for Law...it was just numbing. It was ugly and cruel, but like the silly romantic before him, it was familiar. He didn't know how to fight his way out of it any more. All he could do was endure until the waters abated.
"Consider then, a deal:" He leaned back and crossed his legs, a gesture both confining himself and daring the other. "You do you, Diez. In the end, we're all going to the end of the 'Line for our own reasons. The fact that you're chasing pirates doesn't change that. So it's not as if we won't continue crossing paths, intentionally or otherwise.” A soft little snort escaped him, “--just like old times in a way. That said," Law's arms settled on the rests. "You continue your blackout about my crew. For that, I'll let you in on anything I know about current events, but only after the fact. You get nothing as it unfurls. I have, after all, no desire to sell out anyone who might be of use to me. But the Marines as a whole have an abysmally narrow view of things. Something more complete may be refuted by them, but I believe it could be of use to you and whatever superior that feels the need to let you continue to slip your line while handing them so little in return. Maybe, hopefully," He added,"--they're as reasonable as you."
Clearing his throat, he continued, "Of course, if you do agree, I'll need the support of my crew, so understand that nothing spoken here is our secret. I don't lie to my people," He didn't pull his spoken punch. "--even though tasteful omission." He shook his head, "But it's your call to make. Take it," He held a hand out, palm up--a giving gesture. "--and walk out without a scratch, completely intact. Spare maybe for part of your pride. Not that slinking out of here unmanned is new to you."
A heavy, almost relieved sound breathed out of Drake as his shoulders dropped. He wasn’t dead. He wasn't walking away in pieces and while his gamble hadn’t been won, it was enough of a victory to say he broke even. Adrenaline thrummed through his veins hard enough that it made his stomach turn, but he would deal with that when he was safely on his own ship.
“We’re both in agreement there, I strongly disagree with a lot of things that have and are happening but I want…I want to do some good in the world so others don’t have to suffer.” It was, after all, the Marines who had picked him up that night when a certain party had raided his father’s crew for the Op-Op Fruit. It was something he had been meaning to discuss with Law but to press it today…it was a conversation nothing fruitful would come from. “Some of us are, if…if you need help and can’t get to me, I have contacts.”
I will never let them do to you what they tried to do to Portgas, Drake vowed quietly, studying Law as he spoke, “You’re letting me live and I have to just carry on as I have been, it seems fair enough. I wouldn’t expect you to cut deals without their knowledge, it’s why they trust you as they do.”
Trust such a strange word to bring into the situation when he had absolutely violated the sanctity of the term. Carefully, he took Law’s hand with the same gentleness he always had in their encounters. He squeezed it, a gesture of reassurance but he wasn’t sure to which one of them it was supposed to be.
“You can be a mean bitch you know that?” Drake couldn’t help himself in snapping back, but there was no malice in his words, just a touch of amusement at the dig at his own expense. “And no it wouldn’t, though I like to think I leave here in a more dignified manner than a slink. Slinking implies I’m ashamed and I could never be ashamed of you.”
Law had no issue being branded a bitch here…or anywhere, anytime, really. He knew full well the enjoyment he gleaned from pushing others’ buttons, but hearing it finally come from Drake freed up something inside of him. It clutched sharply in his chest and bubbled up in his throat, then–
He laughed. It was a little snort, then a chuckle he couldn’t quite push back down, then a broad, clear laugh that shook his shoulders, wetting the corners of his eyes with tears. This man and all his fucking audacity and tight pants and patience… How dare he pull this shit–striding in to turn out a betrayal like a fucking dove flicked out of his cape for a magic trick–telling Law he loved him…
His stomach began to cramp, tensing every time he failed again to stifle the sound. “It was never a matter of being ashamed of me, Diez–” He could barely see and for it, wiped his eyes furiously on his sleeve. “I thought it was shame for how much I push you around. Don’t you remember returning to your–” He swallowed a hiccup, almost reigning himself in. “--your ship after the first time I invited you to play, still in dirty clothes because you thought that maybe, after a few rounds with my body folded under yours, you might be able to buy takeaway dry cleaning for the trip back with your dick too?”
It was such a silly memory, but once it came to him, recalling how the man’s confidence immediately floundered once it was revealed that not only was another round not acceptable currency, but that he hadn’t any actual coin on him to call the bluff further. …and Law suddenly couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Despite everything…Drake made him smile.
Gods, Law loved him too, didn’t he?
In all the time spent together, Drake had no memory of Law laughing as he was now in front of him. There were the cunning chuckles, perhaps something else a little more controlled, but nothing like this. For a moment Drake was struck by how handsome Law was when he laughed.
“You’re so beautiful.” Drake murmured, losing himself for a moment, the tension between them seemingly broken at least for now. “And no, I remember that amongst other less than competent moments on my end...”
He had the intense memory of Lind finding him after the encounter, without walking distance of the docks, dazed with a warm beer in one hand and a half finished kabob in the other, his clothes still soiled from the night before. His first mate had dressed him down in such a fierce manner, Drake was sure he would have been thrown into the ocean. He remembered seeing Law on the deck of his ship, waving smugly as the two made their way back to Liberal Hind. He had wilted visibly then, ashamed, but still unable to ignore the thrilling pounding in his chest.
Releasing Law’s hand, he moved around the desk. Carefully he cupped Law’s face in his hands, studying every inch of it. “You need to get some rest, you look worse than usual and I…I don’t think I could leave with you like this.” It wouldn’t be unusual after all, his crew was used to him slipping off for a day or two to the Polar Tang, the two ships meeting up on either the next closest island or town. Time though, was an issue and if he wanted to keep on his own plan, he needed not to linger. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Law’s forehead, “I’ll put you to bed myself if I have too. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Law wouldn't tempt Drake more than he already had, regardless of how nice it would have been in the short term.
“Probably won’t be the last either, but I can take it from here.” He took a moment to lean into that touch. “I’ve made it this far, Diez. I’m not going to break before I can make it to my bed.” Too tired to sort the mass of emotions still trying to fight their way into focus, he just let them coast and swirl. They could all be valid at once. He could fight and scrape and over-analyze later.
But on this…his hands rode the currents of the man’s heart and pushed beneath the weighty leather of Drake’s jacket and across his broad chest. “You’ll go. I’ll rest.” Fingers clasped behind the man’s neck to urge him in. Too tired to charm, all he could give was a weary smile devoid of his usual smug confidence. All the same, it warmed his features enough to make his attempt pass as genuine. “I promise.”
It was a kiss too brief to be satisfying–with no time to hold the younger man closer and pin him inside that contact before Law pulled back, his open palm lingering just left of Drake’s breastbone.
“If it’s really mine, don’t worry about leaving it here. It’ll find me.” Still a little bleary-eyed from earlier laughter, he had to squint to get his best look at Drake, trying out a smirk that didn’t quite make it to standard. “Know I’m still mad as hell, but you earned it. Now get the hell out of my room. I’m gonna call to take us up.”
Drake didn’t want to release him, he wanted to stay to hold him close, to let things just…exist as they were, or had been between them. It’ll find me… the words and touch ached more than any physical wound he had sustained, knowing that deep down, once they were in the New World, that might not be true.
“Well, in case it doesn’t…here.” Pulled from the inside of his jacket was a neatly cut bit of vivre card, “--so you can find me if you ever need help with anything. I might not always be able to come running immediately but I’ll do my best.” Another half truth, even though he meant it, he was unsure if he could really keep that promise. If things went wrong with his planned confrontation…Law would have to watch that slip of paper burn.
Or he’ll shut it in his desk and never look at it. Neither were ideal thoughts or outcomes but at least there was some kind of system in place. His superior would be at least pleased with that notion once he made his report. He wanted to lean in to steal another kiss, but he knew it would be unwise.
“Until I see you again.”