Work Text:
There had always been something about the ocean that comforted you. The way the waves roll in and out like breaths, the call of gulls overhead, the smell of it. It’s hard to describe, but you’ve always associated it with relaxation.
But that was before.
You sat on a deckchair, holding a book up to your face. You can’t really say that you’re ‘reading’ because you’re not. None of the words on the paperback clenched in your hands are sinking into your brain.
Partly it’s to do with the noise.
You know the group, you’re closest to Nami since she’s your co-worker, but her friends have dropped into your office to pick her up for after work drinks or meet her for lunch that you were familiar with their faces long before she started inviting you to join her. But even with being well aware of Luffy’s eating habits or Zoro and Sanji’s passionate dislike of one another and so on, but on the beach it’s like somebody took the dial of their volume and turned it all the way up. Right now they’re busy trying to set up a volleyball game and arguing about who is on what time and if the net is secured and whatever else people can possibly find to disagree about volleyball before you even start playing it.
But the other reason?
Is also sitting on a deckchair a few feet away.
You’ve met more people thanks to Nami – as much as she has a bit of a temper on her, you can’t deny she’s also a very sociable person and friends of her friends are also friends. Apparently, the guy sitting near you is called Law and he’s a “friend” (though he insisted otherwise) of Luffy’s, which caused some raised eyebrows since Luffy is goofy and happy-go-lucky and Law is…not.
He's also fucking gorgeous. Dark ruffled hair with some scruff on his chin and he’s well-built – apparently, he’s a doctor but he has to spend some time in the gym to have a torso like that. Even more intriguing is the tattoo spanning across his pecs, some kind of symbol in the middle though you’re not quite sure what it is. He has some on the backs of his hands too but you’re too far away to read the words.
He also seems completely disinterested in everyone around him running around in skimpy bathing suits, instead frowning down at some thick-looking book in his hands that could well be a medical textbook. You don’t know anybody who would sit reading a medical textbook at the beach, but since Law is acting like he was dragged here at gunpoint, you wouldn’t put it past him.
You turn a page, shifting in your deckchair. You should be enjoying yourself more than you are, but you feel a little self-conscious. Though you’ve gotten to know Nami’s friends, you’re still not one of them and you don’t want to make a total ass out of yourself by barging in on what they’re doing. Plus, jiggling around trying to smack a ball sounds like a recipe for disaster.
You want to say something to Law, strike up some kind of conversation. But he looks both irritable, hot and also engrossed in whatever it is he’s reading. Wait, no, that’s three things. Still, you know there’s nothing more annoying than someone interrupting you when you’ve gotten to the good part of a book with “What are you reading?!”
So you sit there in the shade, wavering in indecision, watching Zoro spike a volleyball directly into Sanji’s face and the blonde spit a truly impressive stream of vitriolic swearing back. A smirk tugs at your lips. Some things stay constant, which is reassuring.
Luffy has much less compunction with bothering Law than you do, and approaches with a grin.
“Hey, Traffy! We need another player! Come and play!” he demands, like a kid on the playground.
“You don’t need me.” Law counters, not even looking up from his book. “You have enough people.”
“Yeah but Usopp said he thinks he’s got sun stroke or whatever so he’s sitting the next one out.” Luffy pouts. “C’moooon, don’t be so boring!”
Both of you know he won’t drop this until Law agrees, so he heaves himself to his feet with a sigh, like it’s costing him a great amount of energy to do so. Though you’re disappointed he’s walking away, you take a moment to enjoy the sight of his muscular back and narrow, grabbable little waist as he follows after a bouncing Luffy.
Maybe now you can actually concentrate on this novel now you’re no longer being distracted. But no sooner do you settle onto your side and flick the page again, still not particularly taking what’s happening in, when you heard footsteps scuffing the sand and glance up.
“Hey, are you done tanning?” you ask Nami with amusement.
“Not quite, but I’m taking a break. You’re not going to hide in the shade all day, are you?” Nami teases. “C’mon, let’s go check out some of those tide pools.”
You smile. That does sound kind of fun, and you know she likes her gemstones.
“Sure, why not?”
You toss the book back onto the lounger and follow after Nami. You were starting to get a little chilly sitting in the shade anyway. You follow her across the soft white sands, taking in the expanse of sea, the clear blue of the skies, and feel a surge of invigoration rush through you. So what if you can’t bring yourself to talk to Nami’s hot acquaintance? You’re not working and hanging out with a bunch of people at the beach on a beautiful day. It could be worse.
The tide is starting to come back in, slowly but surely, and you make sure to keep an eye on it as you and Nami scramble over the rocks, peering into the little tidepools, though there’s not much in them besides some confused fish or the occasional crab.
“Oh, look! I think I see a starfish!” Nami says.
“Really? Show me!”
Nami’s enthusiasm is infectious and it’s nice to be doing something other than just sitting there. It's only a bit later that you realise you’ve both wandered away from the shore considerably, and now the tide is starting to return – it’s crept past the rocky outcrops and is sloshing around knee-height where you are.
“Hey, come on, let’s head back, the tide’s getting further in!” Nami calls to you from where she is, scrambling nimbly down the rock.
You descend more slowly and follow her, wading through a tangle of seaweed that brushes over your skin.
“I’m coming, hang on a second!” you say. “Nobody can run through water, y’know!”
Your feet keep sinking into the soft, wet sand beneath you as you follow after Nami back towards the shore, where the volleyball game is still going on with ferocity-
Pain.
Pain lances through your body like a shock of electricity. Right at the bottom of your foot, something sharp had pierced the flesh and you let out an involuntary cry, the saltwater stinging where the pain had bloomed, which stings like a bastard. Tears well in your eyes and you freeze, not wanting to aggravate whatever had just happened.
“Why are you just standing there? Hellooo?”
Oh fuck, you hadn’t accidentally stepped on something poisonous sea creature that had been struggling against the waves, had you? Nausea grips you at the thought. It couldn’t be a jellyfish, they don’t usually just sit at the bottom of the sea waiting to be trod on…
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Nami’s voice comes to you, urgency and concern blending together as she waded closer. Her eyes flick down and she flinches. “Oh my god!”
Blood has blossomed from the cut around where your leg disappears into the choppy waters, unable to see your foot thanks to the sediment stirred up by the lapping waves and your own footsteps. Your heel is throbbing, tremours of pain snaking up your body from your leg upwards. Your other leg wobbles as you shift most of your weight to it, you’d lift your foot but you don’t want to spill any more blood into the sea if you can help it.
“Shit,” says Zoro from his spot, eloquently.
By now everyone who was playing the game has stopped too, much to your dismay, but the red circling you isn’t exactly something you can hide.
“Quick, we need to get her a first aid kit!” Sanji says, beginning to shrug off his little short-sleeved hoodie.
But before he can heroically rescue you from the cruel ocean, he’s almost literally pushed aside by another figure, swirled in dark ink and with an equally dark scowl on his face.
All you can do is stare up at him like a deer in headlights as Law stalks towards you, the waves sloshing around his legs. His eyes flick down to the redness swirling about you and you’re grateful he’s able to maintain a poker face, you don’t want to see how bad it is reflected clearly in his expression.
“What happened?” he asks, and in a different situation you might have taken the opportunity to admire the thick, dark tattoos writ large across his muscular chest. His voice is urgent but controlled – you instinctively recognise it as his “doctor voice”.
“I don’t know, I was walking and suddenly there was a sharp pain and then my foot was bleeding.” You say, goosebumps breaking out across your flesh and you have the peculiar urge to cover yourself up, now feeling vulnerable in just a bikini. “It probably looks worse than it is.”
You have no idea if that’s the case, but it’s something you’ve heard people say about injuries before, and it sounds good, business-like and professional. You’ve got this, you’re not freaking out and panicking and causing a scene and-
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Law says, shortly.
Just as you’re about to rue the fact you’ve already managed to annoy him and you’ve barely even spoken to him, suddenly Law is right beside you. Without a word, he bends and wraps one arm around your back and the other hooks behind your knees. With a squeak, he suddenly just casually lifts you up out of the water. With your foot previously buried in the sand, it stings anew as it makes contact with the salt water, and you hiss between your teeth. Blood drips into the ocean, the bottom of your foot coated in it. You see a droplet of it, vivid red as a ruby, fall from the ball of your foot, flashing maliciously for a split second in the dying sunset. Your body shudders, both from suddenly being pulled from the water and the pain.
“You’re alright,” Law says to you in a far more soothing tone than before – you feel it rumbling through his chest. “I’ve got you.”
He's just saying it so you don’t freak out and struggle, you know that, it’s probably a part of medical training to keep patients as calm as possible, but even with that logical explanation in your mind, you can’t stop the pulse of pleasure him saying that to you in his smooth, deep voice.
“Shit, that looks bad.” Sanji says. You notice he looks a little irritated at the sight of Law carrying you out of the sea like some kind of bodice-ripped novel cover – no doubt he’d have liked to do it himself.
“Sanji!” Nami scolds him.
“It’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt much.” You lie – it hurts a lot, but Luffy, Zoro and the others are also staring at you and you’d probably tell them you were fine if your leg was falling off it meant you could stop being the centre of attention, because this is so embarrassing.
Law scoffs, as if he knows you’re lying, and strides down the beach with you, like you weigh nothing at all and he does this sort of thing all the time. If it wasn’t for the bolts of pain lancing up your leg every second, you’d be appreciating how nice being carried by him is – he’s a natural.
“Oi, make yourself useful,” he calls over his shoulder. “Someone go to my car and get the first aid kit. My keys are in my jacket pocket.”
He sets you down on a vacant deckchair, sitting and propping your foot in his lap so it doesn’t get any sand in the cut. You grimace as blood mixed with water drips onto both the lounger and the fabric of his board shorts, but Law doesn’t bat an eyelid. You suppose he must be used to this kind of thing.
Luffy brings him the medical kit, peering curiously at your foot.
“Didja see anything when you got hurt?” he asked, tilting his head.
“No, the water was too murky.” You reply, watching as Law flips open the box and begins rooting around for bandages.
“Huh. I’m gonna go see if I can find anything!”
Luffy runs off, like a dog chasing a frisbee, and you’re relieved everyone else seem to have decided it best to let Law do his thing and resume what they were doing. It was making you uneasy having so many eyes on you, over something as annoying and inconvenient as this.
Law inspects the cut before he begins cleaning the blood off the bottom of your foot. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and you watch him quietly, aware of how warm his hands are on you, his fingers strong against the smaller bones of your feet. He sprays the area of the cut with disinfectant, which stings but you don’t even flinch – cutting it hurt far worse.
“Lie back and stick your foot up.” He instructs. “It’ll lessen the blood flow.”
“Do you think I’ll need stitches?” you ask as you do as he says, unable to keep a tinge of misery out of your tone. You don’t want the last part of what was otherwise a fun day to be ruined by being whisked to the emergency room.
“We’ll see if the bleeding stops,” Law replies, and his voice is so sure and confident that you immediately feel slightly better. “If it doesn’t, then yes. But hopefully it won’t come to that. Let’s get you bandaged.”
“At least it wasn’t a jellyfish.” You say dryly.
He gives a soft huff that might have been a laugh, and you can’t stop the bubble of pleasure that you said something that amused him, it feels like a victory. Law reaches into his first aid kit and plucks out a roll of bandages, before he gently takes your foot. His hands feel warm, and you can’t help but notice how nice they are. Strong fingers, tattoos on the backs of them. You can’t properly make out what they are with the light in your face, but they look pleasing whatever it is.
He starts bandaging up your foot and you can’t help but hiss a bit at the pressure on your feet, the bandages quickly staining red, throwing your mind to blood on snow. You realise belatedly that you were holding your breath.
“Just hold still a bit longer, there’s a good girl.” Law says, not looking at you but his eyes on his hands as he makes sure the bandages are secured.
Once again, your body seems to have other priorities, and a spike of arousal hits you like a punch to the gut. You’re very much glad that any twitch or odd reaction to that can easily be attributed to being in pain or simply responding to having someone you don’t know well touching your feet. Still, the words roll around inside your head, good girl, good girl.
“Sorry, this is probably the last thing you wanted to be doing at the beach.” You say.
“I’m not exactly a beach kind of guy, so this is hardly some great loss.” Law grunts as he works. “Anyway, I’m glad I was here, it’s always better to have someone around who has proper medical knowledge.”
“Still, that must be kind of inconvenient.” You muse. “Always having to be on alert in case someone gets hurt and needs help, even if you’re supposed to be on your own time. It’s not like if somebody steals a handbag, suddenly an off-duty lawyer is called to prosecute. Or if someone faints from hunger, if you’re a chef standing nearby, you’re not meant to just whip out a grill and serve him lobster or something.”
Law looks at you like you’re a complete idiot and you instantly shut up, blushing. God, you must either sound stupid or completely ungrateful at his help. You’d like to go bury yourself in the sand somewhere, but good luck doing that on your fucked up foot.
Once he’s done bandaging you, he gives your foot a little squeeze.
“How does it feel now?” he asks and you really wish he’d stop talking to you like that, in that smooth, deep voice. “Any numbness? Tingling?”
Oh I’m tingling alright, but not on my foot.
“No, nothing like that.” You reply, wiggling your toes. “It aches a bit but it’s not so bad now.”
“Good. Hopefully it should stop bleeding within a few hours or so.” He says. “But for now you’ll just have to stay off it as much as possible.”
“Why, you going to carry me to the car when it’s time to pack up and leave?” you ask in a teasing voice.
He glances over at you and raises his eyebrows.
“If necessary, yes.”
Why does he keeps saying things that throw you off balance? Is he doing it on purpose? You bit your lip, then glance over at your stuff.
“Well, thanks for keeping me a little company. I was getting bored with the book I was reading anyway.” You say.
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“It’s the third in this series I’m reading, it’s a fantasy series about a boy who enters other worlds through a drawing, but I’m finding this one kind of boring.”
“Wait, you know that series?” Law sounds surprised. “I picked up the first book a while back, but I haven’t found the time to finish it yet.”
“Oh, I loved the first one! The way they set up the whole quest was so much fun.” You say, unable to stop yourself from gushing about it. “Have you read the author’s other series about the princess?”
“No, but I’ve heard it’s good.”
“So good!”
Before you know it you and Law are busy geeking out over various novels and comics you’ve read, with Law even recommending you some of the latter and you recommending him the former. You’re so into talking about it that you stop worrying about getting blood on everything or if you look okay in your bikini or if you’re annoying him by talking too much. It all sort of just fades away as you lament how you have to wait until next year for the new series of an anime you like to come out.
“Hey you two, we’d better get out of here, the tide’s getting closer.” Nami approaches, holding both her bag on one shoulder and yours as well, and tosses you your hoodie. “Last thing I want is to end up stranded.”
“Right, yeah.” You say, pulling it on and zipping it up, now the sun is slinking off over the horizon, a chilly breeze is creeping in. “Be right there!”
Nami nods, then turns and yells for Luffy and Zoro to dig Usopp out of the sand before the water reaches him first, and a smirk tugs at your lips.
“You rode here with Nami, yeah?” Law asks you, rolling his eyes at the racket going on behind you.
“Yeah, she picked me up on her way.” You ask. “Why- ah!”
Law stands and gives you a wry look.
“Don’t wriggle, I’ve already carried you before, it’s not a big deal.”
“Just warn me next time.” You reply, but you’re glad you don’t have to hop up the steps to get to Nami’s car and risk your bandages getting all soggy and sand-encrusted.
Law smirks at you and your stomach twists as he carries you up to Nami’s car, depositing you in the back as if you’re made of something fragile. You fight back the urge to grab his arm or something.
“Thanks,” you say, which is only a fraction of what you actually want to say, but now you’re not alone with him in your little nerd bubble, your previous enthusiasm has vanished.
He just nods at you before he shuts the door, which feels like full stop to your unfinished sentence. You try to keep your expression casual as you buckle yourself in, and Nami slides into the driver’s seat with a groan.
“Man. The beach is fun, but I’m beat.” She says. “Want to stop for drive through somewhere?”
“Sounds good,” you nod, as the car sets off. Nami side-eyes you as you switch on some music and sit back without saying anything.
“Okay, what? Why that kicked puppy face?”
“Nothing, I just realised I left my flipflops on the beach.” You reply with an embarrassed smile. “Oh well, they didn’t exactly cost much.”
“Uh-uh, try again.” She demands and you huff. She knows you too well. “Does this, by any chance, have something to do with a certain doctor?”
“Just…I feel like I annoyed him.” You reply, fiddling with the zipper of your hoodie, dragging it up inch by inch and listening to the satisfying rasp of teeth. “You know, ruining his day off and talking too much.”
Nami snorts, but her expression is not unkind.
“Trust me, if you were annoying Traffy, he’d let you know.” She says, shooting you a playful, teasing smile. “And he definitely didn’t seem to mind whatever it is you were talking about.”
You lean back in your seat with a little smile. Maybe you’ll hear from him again – both your numbers are in the group chat Nami set up for today’s trip. Perhaps he’ll be curious to know how his ‘patient’ is getting on, or he’ll update you on if he decided to take you up on the book you told him to read. Maybe.
A pop song both of you love comes on shuffle, and Nami grins and begins joining in, the wind whipping through your hair as her car shoots down the road. With a small smile on your face, a strange feeling of possibility rising in your chest as you think of Law and wonder what he’s listening to, if his mind is wandering to you like yours is to him, you find yourself singing along.