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“Trafalgar!”
The voice came from a tall man in a long blue coat, white shirt tucked into high-waisted black pants. Indeed, a strange look in the humid weather. On top of that, his green vest was secured with some gold chains and a white rose.
He walked quickly, boots making clicky-clacky sounds on the pavement.
From the way the man looked at him, Law suspected they must be intimate in some way. He said warmly, “I am glad to see you again, my dear friend!”
Law frowned. Odd. Surely, if they were friends, Law would’ve recognised him by now.
It’s hard to miss a face like this, anyway.
A warm, almond brown eye on the right and milky white on the left. Barely covered by locks of curly blonde hair, the left side of his face was covered in dry, tight scars, Law was intrigued by as a doctor. His lips were small and plump, nose smooth with a slight bump at the tip, a rebellious touch.
“I’m sorry,” Law said, shaking his head. “Do I know you?”
He paled. “Do not pull my leg, Trafalgar. It is not proper.”
“I don’t have a sense of humour. Have we met before?”
“We most certainly have!”
He followed Law despite Law’s discomfort. Law was just here to walk his dog and cat. He didn’t sign up to have a cosplayer act like they were friends. Was the man in trouble? Or, God forbid, Law looked around, the man was in trouble, or the trouble himself.
“Yes?”
“We met in Germany over beer. You were a roaring drunk.”
“I know my parents were from Germany but I haven’t been.”
“Sir, you jest, surely. You lived in Germany your whole life.”
Law gestured to the man to sit on a bench with him. He put Onigiri on his lap as Kikoku circled his shoe to amuse herself.
“I’m sorry. My German parents died and I was raised by my godfather in Spain.” Law spoke some Spanish to prove it. “That has been the case all my life. My papers prove this.”
“You were fluent in Spanish,” he said, agreeing. “You speak well.”
“You mean the Trafalgar you knew? I think we’re different people.”
“I am convinced otherwise. Your mild manners are the same, and so is your accent.”
Onigiri yawned in his lap. Kikoku brushed her tail against his calf. Law knew the man was looking at his pets with a mix of confusion and pure hearted adoration. Law let him pet Onigiri. Kikoku had a biting spree recently and Law didn’t want to risk a lawsuit.
“How do you know so much about me?” Law said. “Who are you?”
“I am Sabo Outlook. We sell liquor together, travelling all across Europe. You liked England. You married a Scottish woman and we wrote to each other regularly.”
“Huh.”
“What is so amusing?” Sabo said.
Law wiped sleep from his eyes. “I don’t drink.”
“Did you intend to embarrass me?”
“No, it’s true. I don’t like the taste.”
Law stood up while holding Onigiri in his forearm. Kikoku took that as her sign and stepped forward three paces. Law needed to feed them now.
“It’s nice meeting you,” Law said, shaking his hand. “I hope you find your friend.”
Sabo gave him a strange look but let him go. Law had a weird feeling he'd see this strange, terrifyingly good looking man again.
—
When Law thought that, he didn’t think he’d actually see him again the next day. He was still in the same suit, just that he removed his vest. He was slimmer than Law thought, narrow waist and hips but with a self-possessed tilt of the chin upwards.
“Excuse me?” Law said, shaking his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Law parroted sarcastically.
He laughed. “Do you really not remember our friendship, sir?”
“I’m afraid I meant that. If I did, I wouldn’t ask to waste time.”
Feeling considerate, Sabo shuffled to the side. Law sat and crossed his legs, seeing that Sabo did despite his aching knees.
Law was uncomfortable with the way Sabo looked at him, those big round eyes and that small smile. It's like he very deeply cared about Law, cherished him even.
“Yes?”
Sabo put a finger near Law’s eyelashes. “You look tired, friend.”
“Today wasn’t great,” Law said. “I did a surgery the night before. Then talked to angry families then another one. Shit. I forgot to call someone. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
Sabo smiled gently and shifted closer. “I take you are not a sociable person.”
“Not at all,” Law said stiffly, shifting away.
Sabo cupped his face. “The Trafalgar I knew was the same. I did the talking while he handled the money and product. He could go for days at a time without speaking to anyone except myself, not even his wife.”
“How did you two become friends if you’re so different?”
“Our natures are far from far from contrary,” Sabo said.
“Such as?”
“Like myself in my youth, you are a natural cynic. You believe that life is a long, aimless experience where your only object is to survive. Goodness is foolishness. Pleasure is a temporary relief from pain. Concepts like kindness, or God forbid, love, are unimaginable. You think it is a delusion of the human condition to insulate oneself from hurt, grief and struggle.”
Law raised his eyebrows. “Sounds about right. You should write a book.”
“I am concerned and relieved that you are not sarcastic.”
“Am I really your friend if I thought differently?”
Sabo grinned. “So you believe me?”
“No.”
Sabo gave a triumphant smile, accepting defeat kindly. “At the very least, you admit that you are attracted to me. There is something about my character you find appealing.”
“Bold claim for a homeless man.”
“Yet, you sat with me when you could have passed me by,” Sabo said. “You did not smile for anyone today except for myself.”
Law smiled sheepishly, feeling his neck go warm. It’s not every day he meets someone so charming in daily life.
—
The park was delightful in quiet evenings with dark shadows and scrap flowers running across the pavement. Law offered Sabo his spare clothes from the night call, a nice white shirt and jeans. Sabo changed into it in the public restroom, which he derisively said was disgusting. Law made up for it with two big packs of Chinese food.
“It is quite revealing,” Sabo said. His scarred forearms showed under the tee-shirt. He fanned himself. “I suppose it is appropriate for the weather.”
“Was it cold where you’re from?”
Sabo was beginning to accept that Law and his beloved ‘Trafalgar’ were ‘very different’ people. It showed when he spoke with a strained familiarity, like how one talks to an estranged family member.
“I remember it snowing before I came here. Pretty crystals of ice from a white sky, forming thick blankets across the streets and countryside. A lifeless scene but familiar.”
“Do you like the food here?”
“Well enough.” Sabo hated it.
“I should get wantons next time. I like those.”
Sabo perked up. “You were a picky eater, quite the hassle to impress.”
“Again, damn it.” Law cleared his throat. “Not the same person.”
“Undeniably similar.”
“No.”
“Then, why are you picking out the greens and putting it on my portion?” Law realised Sabo enjoyed laughing at him, as if everything he said was a joke. “Enough, stop that!”
“They’re too leafy.”
“The Trafalgar I knew refused to use such vague language.”
“It is not vague. It feels ngang-ngang.”
“That is no better.” Sabo ate the vegetables anyway. He used chopsticks well for a beginner. “Nonetheless, I am amused. Trafalgar’s nature is blunt. Ten words or less, he always tells me. Boredom prevents him from reading paragraphs in their entirety.”
“And you’re comparing me to someone so annoying?” Law’s no better.
“Restrain yourself from such insults.” Sabo finished his and Law’s vegetables. “I never said it was a bad thing. Do not misinterpret my intentions.”
Law felt tossed aside with that smile regardless. He stood up slowly.
“Help yourself to the rest. I’m heading home now. Take care.”
Nodding blandly, Sabo watched him, eyebrows raised and mouth greasy with noodles. He laughed when Law was ten paces away, realising Law was serious. He knew a liar when he saw one, just that this one endeared him a little more than the rest because he sulked easily.
“You are more generous than Trafalgar!”
Law yawned and resolved never to look back. Sabo called him again. Like an idiot, Law actually looked back. You did not smile at anyone today except for myself.
“You are more awkward but less secretive.”
“Gee, thanks!” Law said. “Just be thankful I bought food, ya brat!”
Sabo laughed, smiling widely in a way that caught Law off guard. He had fun.
“You’re as cynical, yes.” He looked at Law affectionately. “But you have a light in your eye that I don’t have to fight to keep alive.”
Meanwhile, Law had a blush he had to fight to keep down.
—
Back in the day, Law painted with watercolours to vent his stress. He preferred writing in journals without much embellishment but liked the colours too much to throw the paint away. Perhaps it’s for the best he didn’t in hindsight.
He came home one day to find Sabo mixing a strange shade of brown and dabbing on dots with some frayed paint brushes on scrap paper. Sabo found Law’s dusty sweaters and wore them with the same pants as yesterday.
Right, Sabo moved in with Law. Law found Sabo drunk one night and took him home. He hadn’t left since. Sabo’s pale skin glowed with sunlight from the window, the glow of someone who succeeded in getting free bed and board after persistently following Law home more than ‘a few’ times. Law couldn’t help but admire the tenacity.
“Do you want some nice paper?” Law said.
“This is acceptable,” Sabo replied. “I just want to pass the time.”
“I can help find you a job.”
“Very well, I trust you will find a trade that suits my temperament.”
Sabo yawned. His lips naturally formed a pout whenever he stared ahead absentmindedly. His eyes followed Law, even when his head stood still.
Law liked the idea of Sabo being a robot. That will unironically be the coolest dang thing ever.
“Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?” Sabo’s head finally turned to face Law. “My former life, you mean.”
“Yes, with ‘Trafalgar’.” It’s still weird to say his name in third person. “Do you?”
Sabo leaned back on the chair, thinking of how to phrase himself. Mustard yellow suited Sabo. He looked friendly, even if detached.
“The more I see the sun, the more I dislike it. I yearn for a grey sky. I feel homesick.”
Law couldn’t help but laugh. Sabo brushed it off and continued, “I dislike the thing you call ‘cars’—irritable hunks of scrap. I dislike hearing nothing but the occasional animal groan reminding me to feed them. I dislike loneliness. No one talks to each other here.”
Sabo continued playing with water colours, seeing neither had anything more to add.
He knew Law had no idea what he was talking about. He was always rushing, always anxious, not at all cool and stoic like Trafalgar. Perhaps Law was more honest with his emotions. He felt no need to hide anything. Maybe that’s why he’s not as angry with the world or himself. That was how Sabo liked to comfort himself.
“If you could,” Law started, now deeply curious. “Would you go back?”
“Back to…” Sabo understood what Law meant. “No, not particularly.”
Sabo moved his hand slightly and Law saw little childlike doodles of a tanned man with long hair and sloppily painted on black spectacles on paper. Law said the drawings were nice even when Sabo shrugged and said they were ‘alright’.
He looked up once, stared at Law’s eyes for a second too long and mixed a shade of yellowish-orange. His fingers moved delicately, trying not to tear the paper fibers further.
“Why do you think that when you clearly don’t like it here?”
Softly, Sabo blew on the wet paint pooling on the pape. “I met you.”
—
Sabo had a drinking problem. Yes, he said that he sold liquor and that he didn’t mind that Law didn’t drink, but nothing prepared Law for what he saw.
A pretty man with blonde hair sloppily cut with a pair of gardening scissors over the sink on a Tuesday morning, flushed to the neck down. He wore Law’s one nice white shirt.
His chest was defined, the left side taken over by rough scars. Law’s pants were too big on him so they fell on his hip. He had the cheek not to wear underwear.
He was babbling. His eyes were red and so were his lips from biting on them so much. He saw Law by the door, laughed and held the bottle of sake up. Where the fuck did he find that? Law thought he gave everything away.
“This is-” He hiccuped. “Nice! Drink!”
“Stop drinking.”
Sabo made a face. “But I’m bored.”
“I’ll find a job for you.” Law pinched the space in between his eyebrows. “Just stay still. Fuck, you made a mess.”
Law roughly pushed his hands away. Sabo was whining about how Law was even more prudish than Trafalgar, about how Law should try even ‘a single drop’ because Trafalgar sang well. Law was tone deaf.
“If you’re going to stay here, this cannot happen again,” Law said, refusing to look down. “I don’t like drunkards.”
Sabo batted his big, doll-like eyes with soft eyelashes. “What?”
Law snatched his drink. “No more of this.”
“Why?” Sabo pouted. He kicked his feet like a child. “I always drink after supper.”
“Not in this house. Take it or get out.”
Sabo made an unhappy noise but didn’t refuse or ask questions when Law carried him princess style. He didn’t have any quirky thing to say when Law unceremoniously dumped him on the bed.
He merely looked, eyes brown and round like an owl’s. Law was thinking about what kind of mistake he made, or how he’ll come off. Sabo crossed his legs, not to show modesty but because that’s just how he usually sat.
“Where are you going, Trafalgar?”
“Call me Law.”
“No.” Sabo suddenly decided he would lie down. He folded his arms while staring at the ceiling. “Why are you so weird? We slept in the same bed before.”
“I- uh, no? You slept on the couch till now.”
Sabo barked out a laugh, the prettiest laugh he had ever heard. “We slept together in the countryside on a rare summer’s day.”
“I… I think it’s better if you stop talking.”
Sabo huffed. “You’re lucky I like you. Or, I- hup!”
Law rolled his eyes and wiped drool off Sabo’s mouth. Sabo leaned into it, staring at Law curiously, as if wondering if Law would dare to do anything more.
“You never listen to me,” Sabo said, suddenly quite angry. “You married her! Yet, you blame me for your unhappiness!”
Law assumed he’s talking to his friend Trafalagr and thus paid his babbling no mind. There was a moment, though, when Sabo looked at him sharply.
“You’re no gentleman. You have desires.”
“You shouldn’t say that while in another man’s bed. It’s indecent- Ow!”
Sabo had the gall to kick him in the crotch. Sabo babbles in his sleep.
—
With some luck and fake papers, Doffy prepared at a pretty penny, Law found Sabo a job as a bartender. While on the job, Sabo fell in love with making cocktails and garnishing them with pretty things like flowers and fruits.
He made Law a sweet drink with some soju and orange juice. He got creative liberty despite only working there for a month. The manager claimed he had good taste and was proud of the cocktails he made.
“Hey,” Law said. “Are you okay?”
“Have you ever been married?”
“What the fuck?”
Earlier that day, Sabo had a customer who talked to him about their marriage and their troubles. Sabo seemed particularly affected by this. He never married but Law suspected it was an insecurity of his.
“Almost,” Law said. “Would you like to hear? It’s not interesting.”
“Yes! Relay the circumstances in full, if you will, sir.”
Law thanked Sabo for the drink. Law’s drinks were free here. It better be for the bullshit Law had to put up with.
“We bonded over a shared love for a book,” Law said, figuring he shouldn’t explain what a media franchise was off the bat. “We became more than friends two months in. I liked that we could talk about deeper things easily.”
“So why ‘almost’?”
“That’s because I saw him kiss another in the same park we met,” Law said. “We didn’t talk about it. He knew that I knew. He sold the ring quickly after and I moved out.”
Sabo pursed his lips and nodded. He stared at Law’s drink, specifically the bit of condensation left behind from Law’s lips when he drank.
“I apologise,” Sabo said after some time. “I cannot imagine you marrying anyone, let alone a member of our sex.”
Law shrugged. Sabo’s eyes looked sad.
“Then it is a good thing that I’m not married, so you can be correct.”
“Insulting you is not my purpose and you know that,” Sabo said curtly.
Law shrugged, changing the topic. “I’m attracted to men, not women.”
Sabo frowned. “You speak in jest.”
“You’ve lived with me for six months. Can’t you tell if I’m joking?”
“You have many strengths but neither humour nor honesty are it.”
Sabo scrunched his lips. They got some colour lately, a nice peachy pink.
“Anywho, that happened.” Law drank. “I’d like to say I have completely given up on love but I get nostalgic for the better times.”
“Is that so?”
“The dates, the sex,” Law said. He couldn’t help but smile now. He did love the guy at one point. He didn’t notice Sabo refilling his drink. “The time together with someone you know will be there, or at least used to know. I want to marry again, if not to have that again.”
“If you so insist on marrying another man,” Sabo said sternly. “Then why don’t you marry me?”
“Excuse me?”
Sabo rolled his eyes, wanting to forget the sudden outburst. “Trafalgars are foolish in matters of the heart.”
“I guess me and the other guy have one thing in common.”
Sabo gave him a withering look. “He was truly in love with her. That was his only mistake. Men don’t love. Never. I agree with you on one thing.”
Law chuckled, liking his petty expression. “Did you love him?”
“Pardon?”
“Is that the real reason why you cling to me?”
Sabo scoffed. “Do not say such foolish things.”
Law shrugged. This was not worth arguing about. Truth be told, Law didn’t fully understand Sabo and suspected he never will. Sabo was in a league of his own. He acted like he was better than everyone and Law wondered if that was true back in his world.
—
Sabo looked good in anything he wore as a slim, attractive man. Tee shirts, cardigans, Law’s old blazers—anything. Knowing this, he was picky about clothes.
“Oh, come on! This is fine!”
Sabo shook his head. He pointed at Law’s shirt with an unhappy finger. Why did Sabo’s fussiness extend to him nowadays? Law’s sloppy fashion sense didn’t matter until recently…
“Outlook, please,” Law noticed that Sabo only listened when he called him by his last name. “I’ll be late for work. I need to leave now.”
“Your work can wait, Trafalgar.”
“It can’t! Patients are dying!”
“If their condition has deteriorated so severely in the hour you are not there, that they require your immediate attention so seriously that they should cease to be, then Providence has made it clear that their fading life’s true purpose is to serve the heavenly kingdom. Your intervention means nothing. Forget it.”
Law’s head twitched. Why was he so fucking rude? That was his bed!
“I’ll make sure you go to the heavenly kingdom.” Law said, balling his fists.
Sabo yawned. “Speak to me like that again and I will make you see Him first.”
Law rubbed his forehead. He acted like a princess, and looked like one too with a slim neck and sharp shoulders.
Sabo moved to the center of the bed and brushed his curly hair down. He looked up through his eyelashes. White blankets, white shirt that matched pale skin and was soft against his scars. Dry red lips.
“What is it?” Sabo said.
Fuck you, I’m already in hell.
“At least do your buttons properly.”
Law glanced down. “They’re fine.”
“No, they are not,” Sabo said with finality. Then, “You look like a whore!”
Law saw white. What the fuck did this bum say to him?
“Yes, Trafalgar, you look like a saucy slut.”
That brat stayed there for at most a few days, never leaving it once, essentially forcing Law to sleep on the sofa in his own house where Onigiri peed on him. Who does he think he is?
Sabo frowned at his chest. He picked at his tattoo like it’s a sticker.
“What is this? You look like a bad man.”
Sabo didn’t even notice Law putting his hands by his hip. He gave Law a dry look when he realised.
“You fail to scare me.”
“That’s fair,” Law said. “I’m not scared of you either.”
Sabo pushed him away. “Then do not threaten me. Do as I s-”
Sabo didn’t say anything when Law suddenly, for some reason, forced his mouth onto his. It wasn’t kissing as much as it was Law sucking Sabo’s lips to make sure he couldn’t utter another word, not another snarky remark that made Law burn with desire.
Despite his muffled sounds, Sabo didn’t resist. It’s more like he had no idea how to react, let alone how to kiss Law back. Sabo’s lips parted when Law pulled away, breathless.
For good measure, Law elbowed Sabo’s stomach, forcing him to stay down. Law grabbed his wallet from the drawer and walked off, narrowly missing Sabo attempting a similar move for revenge.
He knew he did something wrong but didn’t feel as guilty as he thought. Law felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t feel guilty. Secretly, he liked the way Sabo’s eyes lit up when he pulled away.
—
“Her name was Eustomia.”
“What the fuck?”
Thankfully, there was no ill-will in the bar. It was a quiet night so Sabo asked Law to come down and hang out. That was Law’s words.
What Sabo actually said was, ‘Dearest Law, I notice we have not conversed much this week. Plainly put, it worries me. I wish you would indulge me with your company tonight. I have prepared an offering that is to your taste. I hope I have the pleasure of serving you.’
Sabo’s right. Law likes messages to be communicated in ten words or less. None of that went to his head.
Law drank Sabo’s ‘new offering’, a refreshing mocktail made of pineapple and sparkling water, topped with a lemon slice and a large ice cube. Law drank slowly, thinking it was quite nice and flavourful.
“Now that I think about it,” Law said. “One of my best friends is called Eustass.”
“Is that so?”
Law thought his accent was the strongest when he got annoyed or suspicious, which was very often. Law found his foul moods charming. Sabo observed Law without giving anything away.
“We met in university. My car broke down a lot and he helped me every time.”
“ He ?”
Law didn’t notice the pronouns till now. He smiled. “Yes, Eustass is another man.”
“Are you fond of him?”
“Romantically? No, no. Never.”
Law didn’t know what to make of Sabo’s expression. It’s as if he was relieved to hear that Law wasn’t in love with anyone.
“What’s that look for?”
Sabo’s smile was strained. “Pardon my manners. I have been told I am quite blunt.”
“How bad was Eustomia that you look so disgusted?”
“Ugh!” Sabo kicked his feet. “She conducts herself too much like a man. Loud. Irritable. Dominant. She is sandpaper to Trafalgar’s silk-like nature.”
Law covered his mouth while he snickered. What did that even mean?
“To elaborate, Trafalgar is a lot like you—recluse, sullen, overly practical without an inch of imagination,” Sabo said. “Yet, he found himself irreversibly seduced! I am puzzled. Oh, Lord help me!”
Law burst out laughing. Sabo looked furious.
“May I know what you find so thoroughly entertaining?”
“You don’t like her because she took your friend away.”
“Did you not listen to me?” Sabo said. “Do not act like this is mere childish jealousy.”
“You’re envious because she has the one thing you don’t have, something money or good looks can’t get.”
“And what is that?” He looked interested. “A full chest?”
“Trafalgar”
“I beg your pardon.”
Law laughed. “He chose her heart over yours.”
Sabo rolled his eyes, scoffing. He thought Law was stupid and it showed. Law didn’t mind. People told him he was too blunt too.
“You do not have the right to say that,” Sabo said. “You do not know what heartbreak looks or feels like.”
“Fair, but I know how it feels like to be someone’s second choice.” I feel it now with you as you look away.
So now there was ill-will.
They stared at their glasses. Sabo once asked why the glasses were so smooth and how they got it to look like that. He said he had seen nicer ones in Italy where people bothered to paint on it, make everything by hand, rather than use some factory and obscure-sounding machine.
Vaguely, Law recalled feeling offended by the conversation. If his world was so much better than here, then why not just go back? Why wasn’t he even trying? It could be possible to bend the fabric of space and time if it happened once before.
Just like how Sabo came to his home and became his first real friend in months, Sabo could just as easily leave for whatever reason.
Law sighed. “My bad. I went out of line.”
Sabo shook his head. “No, I was presumptuous, making conclusions where there were none.” Why do I keep making you angry?
—
“Who is the man you always keep in your pocket?”
“What the fuck?”
“Is that the only thing you know what to say whenever something perplexes you?”
Sabo grabbed Law’s pants pocket and found his wallet. Law had it in him to give him a good talking to about how pickpocketing was wrong. Sabo took money from him before. Stealing wasn’t good regardless of the period.
Nonetheless, instead of money, Sabo took out an A5 print of a photo with a lovely couple and their son and daughter. He showed it to Law. Law winced. Lami’s face had rubbed off in time.
“Who is this?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Pardon me, sir,” Sabo said. “You speak to him in quiet moments at night, softly and desperately. Of course, I would like to be enlightened. We share the same room.”
Law snatched the photograph back. Idiot.
It’s one of those things that Law could only confront in the dead of night alone. He didn’t want to explain further and Sabo let it go with nothing more than a petty huff. He understood this thing called boundaries better nowadays.
“Good night,” Sabo said before lying down on the bed.
“Good night to you too.”
Sabo fell asleep earlier than usual. He had to go to work at dawn the next day.
When he started snoring slightly, Law got out, dumped his blankets on Sabo and looked at the photograph again.
A few friends Law showed it to, said that Law looked like his father. Same black hair, same facial hair pattern, even same glasses.
Growing up, he and his dad were close. His dad taught him how to dissect a frog. It was his bad advice and misplaced compliments (Ah, Law’s a boy of few words; nothing wrong with that!) that shaped Law to be who he was today.
His dad was a famous surgeon, apparently, but left government practice to start a clinic with his mom. Law had always wondered if he’d do the same—start his own thing.
Once, in the dead of night, Law overheard his dad saying that Law would marry someone kind and understanding of his quiet nature. Someone who smiled at him even when he got grouchy. Someone who would support him.
Someone who would light him up so much that he wanted to talk and try.
Law wished he had more pictures of his family. He never liked taking pictures of himself but secretly enjoyed it now.
“Are you proud of me?” Law said softly. “I’m in a deadened job, the kind you keep complaining about to mom and Lami.”
Sabo snored louder. Spoiled son of a bitch refused to go back to the couch once he got a taste of how nice a real bed could be. Law kicked the blanket to his side, feeling stuffy.
Law sighed and put the picture back in his wallet.
“Before you died, you said that you’ll always be proud of me.” His dad said that when Law graduated from kindergarten. “Do you mean that? Are you proud of me?”
“I am.”
Law saw Sabo turn to the side. Hair fell on his face. He yawned and sniffled.
“I’m proud of you.”
Law lightly slapped his butt. “Shut up.”
“I am perfectly…” Sabo chuckled, still in dreamland. “Sincere.”
—
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
Law wondered what he should say when Sabo said he’s finally moving out.
Good for you! Where will you go? Do you have money—you do, right? Be honest with me. Right… You better pay me back one day. You better visit sometimes. Ungrateful brat. Pay me rent, you owe me a fuck ton of money. Don’t think you could just take whatever you want and leave.
“I sometimes dream of you as my wife.”
Sabo came straight home at five in the morning after work in a white shirt the bar gave him. He was sweating. Thin fabric clung to his slim body, revealing toned muscles under pale skin.
He rolled up his sleeves. Even with the scars, his left forearm was strong and defined. His wrist was slim, paired with a silver watch with a brilliant blue face.
Sabo’s smile was long and thin. He sat with Law by the dining table. Law just woke up to get some water. He had a day off. He wanted to sleep until eleven in the morning but the revelation woke him up fully. Well, okay.
Good for you!
“I dreamt of a woman with black hair, and dull eyes, which turned golden when she smiled. We met at a park with green trees on a rainy day. I did not spare her a single thought but she fell in love with me at first sight.”
Law wanted Sabo to sit down. Sabo refused. He wanted to keep standing up straight, face Law with some sort of pride even though his scars itched.
“Due to her quiet nature, I thought she disliked me. She said things that made me uncomfortable.” Sabo rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I will only get hurt if I stay.”
“Then, why do you stay?”
“Her smile made me think that everything will be okay. She was beautiful.”
Sabo put his hands on the table and looked away, folding his arms.
“I recall one night where I had a dream where I woke up to her holding my cheek.” He touched his cheek, as if wondering if he were a ghost.
“And then I saw sunlight when you pushed the curtains to the side. You brushed my hair to clean my face. My senses did not immediately realise that I was back in the real world. Your touch was as soft as her’s. I think that’s when I realised… I was thinking of you.”
Sabo brushed his knuckle against Law’s cheek. He extended his thumb to stroke his jaw up to his chin. He relaxed his fingers to properly hold Law’s face. He smiled.
“She had the same nose as your father.”
“You’re just as foolish as the Trafalgar you loved so much.”
“You are quite handsome,” Sabo said. He chuckled dryly. “Love is such a silly thing.”
“It is.”
Sabo barked out a laugh. Law shook his head and brushed his hair. It was sweaty and Law insisted he showered soon. He said Law was fussy and that it was too early in the dawn to be this pedantic. God!
“There’s another image I remember fondly.”
Sabo looked at Law’s eyes, glowing gold like a temptation.
“You were as you are, in a coat on a cloudy day in the park and your cat and dog were with you,” Sabo said. “You found me on a bench like those days ago.”
Law leaned in. Sabo held his face with his hands, his finger tips caressing his facial hair.
“You said you were pleased to meet me and we walked together.”
Sabo looked like he was talking about a nice date with his crush.
“I thought it was magical when,” Sabo’s eyes sparkled when Law put his nose against his. “When you held my arm and called me your husband.”
Law touched Sabo’s jaw once. Sabo nodded.
Sabo kissed Law back, a little clumsily, constantly surprised over how Law could move his lips to kiss back, unlike his dreams where he had complete control. His lips tasted like coffee. Black with a little cocoa powder.
Sabo put his arms around Law’s shoulders.
Sabo said the cocoa powder made him feel sophisticated because ‘Trafalgar’ introduced him to chocolate, a luxury then. Law liked how Sabo’s voice dropped an octave lower when lost in pleasure.