Work Text:
"...Tell them I'm dead."
"...Is that an emotional reaction suddenly?"
"Nostalgia isn't an emotion, Trafalgar."
Law laughed- teeth arctic sharp as he did and Sanji glared at him over a shoulder- disliking the mockery in the noise. Gold nearly gone from his hair, eyes so blue Law swore they would be cold to the touch should he pluck them out for a specimen jar, oddly cowlicked eyebrow like the devil's own signature; he tapped ash into a glass ashtray on Law's desk as he perched on the edge of it before taking another drag from the cigarette.
"We both know I don't plan on mentioning the newest addition to my crew should I see your old one.", was Law's answer, propping his boots up on the desk as he lounged in his chair contentedly.
"Aht-aht; never assume me a kept thing, Law.", scolded Sanji gently, lips twitching in an almost smile, "I'm no pet nor trophy. Simply staying around familiarity for a while before moving on."
"It's been a year."
"Maybe I'm waiting for you to start using my name, Law.", coos Sanji, before laughing as he adjusts the shirt he wears to see the amber tints in the captain's eyes flicker in the light, "And stop acting like I'm another specimen for study."
"...Maybe you are.", huffs Law.
Sanji rolls too blue eyes, letting them catch and outright reflect the light before he slid from Law's desk edge to circle around- to lean down and let a cool hand rest against a tattooed chest so he could whisper into a pierced ear.
"Specimens don't share the Captain's personal quarters, boytoy."
Law growled behind said chest, narrowing his eyes at the half fond, half derogatory little attempt at an epithet as Sanji straightened, flicking open the top of the shirt he wore- the shirt Law recognized as one of his own.
Sanji winked once, turning on a heel and seeming to fade from the room with his swaying gait and silent steps.
[He'd shown up a year and some change ago, halfway between terror and apathy with the gold fading from his hair and migraines so intense light made him vomit water. He hadn't begged, no- Nothing so pathetically vulgar as begging from a man who lived and died by his own pride.
He had arrived with a bargain, looking to the amber eyed king of deals and spoke the easiest agreement Law had ever acquiesced to.
"Don't tell them where I am, don't tell them where I've gone- and I'll let you do whatever you need, see whatever you want to try and stop it. Or reverse it."]
Law tongued a tooth, muttering to himself before moving his boots off the desk and standing- the heels of them clicking like a threat as he followed Sanji's exit, tracing the smell of cigarettes to follow like a tracker hound; like the massive dogs used to find the bodies of the fools who thought the snow was nothing to be afraid of.
The ones who thought they burned bright enough to outlast the permafrost.
[It was six months in when the migraines finally stopped. When Law first saw Sanji's irises reflect the light like tropical waters or cut aquamarine. When Sanji had seemed to fade into and out of his own existence- when his steps became silent and his gait gained a roll and sway that Law soon learned meant the cook could lash out from any angle, any direction. Sanji hadn't seemed to grieve- understandable, given what had been happening- But he didn't allow himself to dwell upon it; instead deciding to stay and allow Law to study the effects and changes... In exchange for a little more comfort, of course.
For all of Law's strength, there were some things he discovered he could be weak to. The way Sanji's smile curled when he said "If it would please you, Captain." being a major gap in his proverbial armor.]
Law didnt make eye contact with anyone he passed; eyes narrow and focused and lips parted just enough to taste the remnants of smoke on the air- Like a dog, like a hungry hound scrounging for a last few scraps-
[Nine months in; Sanji laughed as Law allowed him into his private quarters for 'further study'. Sanji looked over his shoulder, pulling his blazer off and tossing it aside before turning to face the Captain as the door shut and locked. The ex-chef hooked two fingers into his own tie and pulled it loose, looking to the Captain through the shadows of eyelashes.
"Shall I strip down? Let you flay me alive like the tasteful nudes in old Golden Age medical diagrams?", cooed Sanji, who then chuckled when Law seemed to almost choke on the air he breathed. The ex cook pulled his tie off, tossing it aside and flicking two buttons easily open.
"I can easily do so- if it pleases you Captain."]
Law stood in front of his personal quarters (of course he did, where else would the fox lead the hound but to his favorite den?) and leaned his head side to side to ease the tension out of his neck. He reached out, silently opening the door and slipping into the darkness behind it.
The sound of it shutting behind him seemed loud and muffled at the same time.
Law peered into the darkness, hand reaching out to reach for the switch to turn on the cabin's lighting.
[Law had pressed his luck at eleven months in- banter turning bitter for a moment at the mention of a green haired swordsman and Law throwing off an out of line remark-
Involving flexibility, and extra helpings at mealtime.
And Sanji had stalked off, silent and wicked and enraged at the slight to his self-respect. Law had rolled his eyes, content in the idea he was well within his rights to make such comments; this was his ship, his supplies keeping the man alive, his knowledge connecting the dots of Germa's technology.
His shirts being stolen by an ex cook who had no business seeming to strike a pose no matter how he stood, demanding everyone's eyes follow the lines of his waist and legs unbidden and without words.
And so Law had returned to his quarters, confused at the darkness until suddenly an arm around his throat, a hand forcing his painfully behind his back and pressed between his and Sanji's body while a leg draped over the Captain's hip.
"Checkmate. Not even enough time to set a room- much less apologize for being so fucking out of line."
In retrospect, Law didn't think that should have tied a burning knot at the bottom of his belly; but the efficiency with which Sanji could have made an attempt on his life certainly earned an apology.]
Sanji lounged- the picture of excess. He absently flipped through a recipe book (acquired without words, handed to him without ado or fuss by the Captain after they had returned from a surface trip) and let cigarette smoke drift away from him in whorls and gentle curls. He glanced up, a smile slowly curling his lips as he took another drag.
"Good evening, Captain.", he cooed.
"...Good evening Sanji."
"Should I take this as a sign I've worn out my welcome?", mused Sanji, "...Or something else?"
[Twelve months, six days, eleven hours, forty-seven minutes, eighteen seconds and counting since Sanji had first arrived- haphazard and delirious from pain but still clear enough to make a bargain. And now here he was, turning the tables with the ease of an infiltrator as he straddled Law's waist and dragged fingernails over black-ink tattoos- feeling blunt nails dig into bare thighs and Sanji tossed his head back and laughed. Law sat up easily, and Sanji draped arms over the Captain's shoulders and let his too-bright blue eyes fall lidded.
"Does this please you Captain?"]
"You aren't leaving.", said Law simply with a shrug, glancing back to doble check that the door was locked before continuing towards where Sanji lounged on the bed they shared, "We both know it. We both know, exactly, what you plan on doing."
"And what is that, Trafalgar?"
Law shivered at the way his name rolled off Sanji's tongue, locking eyes with the rejected Prince as he lounged with the grace and ease of a favored pet; as a part of the picture as a favorite pistol in a familiar safe.
"You plan on staying.", he murmured, "Because of nostalgia, because of safety. You may not be the Sanji who is overwhelmed by emotion- but you're no Germa drone, no half built prince, either."
Sanji's gaze flicked down, then back up. He remained silent.
Law smiled.
"...You are no kept thing- but a coaxed thing you can be- even if its just to spare your ego."
"You talk too much, Law.", snapped Sanji.
"Then shut me up, Princeling."
Law laughed as Sanji's hands reached out, dragging him onto the bed the ex-cook once lounged on only to hold the Captain down. The cigarette between Sanji's lips flared before one hand released its grip on Law to pluck it from between his lips; ragged black and barely gold hair hanging longer than it ever had as a chef. Sanji glanced appreciatively at the sliver of Law's chest that was visible, gently pulling the shirt more open to hum in the back of his throat.
"I should put this out on you for being a rude bastard again."
"If you dislike my rudeness so much, you wouldn't whimper when I call you a b-"
"Shut up or you'll end up a celibate Captain and I'll turn my attentions elsewhere."
"I doubt you would."
"Mmph. You've learned to call some of my bluffs, I see."
"No one on this crew is suicidal enough to take you up on any offer you'd make."
Sanji laughed, letting his grip relax further at their bantering, "Oho, a possessive little Captain boyt-"
Sanji's cigarette ended up on the floor, flickering itself out as Sanji's back hit blankets and mattress and he was gently reminded how much of Law was wiry muscle and corded manic strength. Law nuzzled against Sanji's throat, nipping at the adam's apple as it shifted from the ex-cook swallowing hard as the captain settled between deadly thighs with a hum of amusement; holding the cook's wrists against the bed and smiling like he intended to eat the wicked Prince's heart whole.
"Yes. I am.", was the easy answer, "Very much so. In fact, one might consider it a bit of a toxic trait."
"Oh my."
"So it's safe to say I may resort to very uncouth methods to keep the things I want."
"Is the Captain suggesting he would become violent if I should decide to kiss another crewmate?", teased Sanji; eyes reflecting the light like polar ice as he flexed his hands before pushing against Law's grip- and yet he allowed it to continue. They both knew, and knew well, that if Sanji so decided he could break Law's grip and several of his bones, walk away untouched and undamaged to jump ship at the nearest port.
...And yet, he allowed the manhandling, allowed himself to be pinned down and held close and simply grinned with too many teeth; faelike and wild.
"An almost emotional reaction."
"Nostalgia isn't an emotion, Captain.", laughed Sanji, words becoming breathless when Law nuzzled the ex-chefs throat once more before pressing kisses in a slow line upwards, "I simply h-have. Have preferences. For swordsmen."
"I see.", mused Law, lips close enough to Sanji's that the willingly captive prince could feel Law's words as he heard them, "...I feel I should work on improving your standards."
"Mmn; replace swordsman with surgeon?", teased Sanji.
"No, just outright replace the swordsman."
Sanji moaned happily- allowing himself to pressed into the mattress by Law's touch and kiss and wrapping strong legs around the captain's waist to keep him close.
For nostalgia, of course- nothing more.