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Defeat Doflamingo.
Avenge Cora-san.
Kill anyone who gets in the way.
Put Donquixote in jail.
Kill.
Rend.
Send the whole so-called "Family" to prison.
Destroy.
Destroy.
Law throws back an empty bottle of rum and looks in front of him. The tension in the body has been sitting for ten years. He never seemed to relax from the moment Cora saved him by giving his life.
Alcohol doesn't help—it only blurs his vision, adds headaches, and burns his already exhausted body.
Law removes the alcohol from himself with a swipe of his fingers and becomes sober again. The abilities of his fruit are his gift and curse; he uses it to save himself—and to harm, not allowing himself to forget at least for one night.
His whole life is a series of endless pain, flashes of joy and losses, which are all the more destructive the stronger the joy was. He does not let people near him, does not allow himself to love them, to become attached to them—even his crew are only subordinates whom he respects but does not love. Cannot.
He's scared.
He's been dreaming about Cora more and more lately. His benefactor dissuades Law from attacking Doflamingo. He begs him to let go and forget about everything. He wants Law to be free and happy.
But Law just shrugs it off. "You're a figment of my imagination, Cora. My weakness. My fears," he answers him, and the sadness on Cora's face hurts—but not as much as the thought that he might lose. Might not be able to take revenge. Might not finish what Cora had started.
“Please, Law.”
Law just shakes his head.
He knows he can't live freely until he gets his revenge. Until one of them—Law or Doflamingo—dies.
He looks at his wrist and wants to get another tattoo with Cora’s smile.
***
After a fight with pirates, whose crew name Law didn't even remember, Bepo insists that the captain rest and sleep, but he just waves it off—adrenaline is still flowing inside, and he definitely won't be able to sleep, but it will take several hours to think about Cora, Doflamingo, his plan, fears and pain again.
"I'm going to the bar," he waves and pauses. “Go have fun, too. We'll stay here for a day and set sail.”
He drinks a little, just for the taste—he likes whiskey and its burning effect—and his gaze sweeps over the bar, searching for someone to lock onto. After fights, he always wants to blow off steam and ends up hooking up with someone. It helps to calm down, ground himself, and even strokes his ego a little—his lovers usually admire his ripped naked torso and tattoos.
A handsome blond man is sitting in the far corner of the bar, smoking, and Law gets up and goes straight to him. He does not engage in self-deception—all his passions are the same from the very beginning. He sometimes thinks about who he'll sleep with if he fucks all the smoking blondes on the Grand Line, but for now, fate favors him.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Law nods to the man.
He looks at him with wide eyes, clearly recognizing the Death Surgeon in the brunette, and squints incredulously.
“Why?”
Law chuckles and sits down opposite.
"Relax. I just want to have a good time.”
The blond man looks at the inscription "Death" on his fingers and raises an eyebrow.
“I have to clarify what you mean by this concept.”
Law bends down, takes his cigarette, takes a drag and exhales the smoke into the man’s lips.
"I'm going to suck your dick, and then I'm going to let you fuck me. Or I'll fuck you myself if you prefer it. What do you say?”
Ten minutes later, they find a spare room above the bar and lock there.
***
The man, Jen, turns out to be a fruit user and a former Marine. If he had told Law about it earlier, he might have had a couple more orgasms.
“Why did you leave the Marines?” Law asks, exhaling cigarette smoke at the ceiling. Jen sighs.
“Their methods are not very consistent with my values.”
Law just chuckles.
“Why did you go there at all? Protect the world from pirates?”
Jen turns to look at him with a completely serious face.
"Not just from pirates. From injustice, crime.” Then he looks at the ceiling and shakes his head. “But it turned out that there are plenty of criminals in the Marines, too.”
"What a surprise,” Law grins angrily, taking a drag. Jen looks at him again.
"I know about Flevance.”
Law tenses up. He clenches his jaw, frowns; puts out his cigarette on the bedside table and folds his arms under his head.
“I'm so sorry,” he hears Jen say.
Law abruptly looms over him, squeezing his wrists painfully, and hisses in his face, “Sorry? Are you sorry? Do you think I need your pity?”
“Law–”
"Your Marines destroyed my city, my family, and everything I had. Only one man from the Marines had the right to say that he was sorry, because he had saved me by giving his life. So don't you dare bring this up at all, or I'll skin you alive. And this is not a metaphor.”
He's shaking, there's no trace left of the usual bliss after good sex, and it seems to him that he can really kill this jerk right now, with his bare hands.
"I know about that, too.”
Law frowns, releases his hands, and sits on top of him.
“About Co… About Rosinante?”
Jen nods slowly. A lump rises in Law’s throat.
He lies back down again, not looking at the man anymore, and finds the cigarettes.
"I think you should go."
Jen doesn't move.
“I knew him. He was a good guy.”
Law blinks twice, feeling his eyes burn.
"Leave," he whispers hoarsely.
Jen looks at him for a minute, then gets up and starts getting dressed. All this time, Law feels his lungs twisting into a tight knot; he wants to scream, and he digs his fingers into his palm to distract himself from the pain.
When Jen comes to the door, Law breaks down.
"What was he like?" he whispers, turning away abruptly when he feels moisture on his cheek.
Jen returns and sits on the edge of the bed.
***
They talk about Cora for two or three hours. It's been a long time since Law has felt so good and light in his soul; he doesn't even notice how he's almost falling asleep on Jen's chest, who is stroking his hair and telling stories—mostly retold, he rarely worked directly with Rosinante—but that's no less warm.
“So I erased this guy's memory, and Rosinante…”
“What did you do?” Law frowns, thinking he didn't hear properly.
“Erased his memory. This is the power of my fruit. Didn't I tell you?”
Law sits up and frowns even more. His heart suddenly beats faster, restlessly. He shakes his head.
“I can selectively erase memory, in chunks or whole lines. We usually used this after interrogations so that the prisoner would not give up–”
“You can erase a memory area?”
The way his heart is pounding in his chest makes it hard to breathe.
Jen nods slowly.
“Yes, I can, I told you. I don't understand–" Jen stops talking and frowns too. "Why do you ask?"
Law sits on the edge of the bed, not hearing the question, and absently runs his gaze around the room.
That would be a betrayal. Weakness. An admission that he had failed.
But he will be free, as Cora wanted. He'll be able to move on.
To love.
He gets up, goes to the mirror and looks at himself, emaciated, with circles under his eyes the size of his cheek, and runs his hand through his hair.
He turns to Jen and, without looking at him, asks, "How do you know what to erase?"
"I'm erasing what I know. Listen, if you want me to help you with some pirate, then–”
"No," Law cuts him off. “No, forget it. I just wanted to clarify.”
What a stupid thing to do. What a weakness. He's going to hate himself for it.
Or… not if he forgets everything.
He shakes his head. This exhaustion drove him to some really idiotic thoughts. He needs to sleep more.
If only he could sleep without having nightmares about Flevance and Cora.
Law swallows.
After getting dressed and already standing at the door, he turns to Jen.
“How can I contact you if I need you?”
Jen picks up a pen and paper from the table, writes something with his head tilted, causing his bangs to fall forward, and Law's eyes burn again.
***
After taking Doflamingo down, Law almost immediately calls Jen.
He knew that this victory would not save him, would not set him free—it would only slightly reduce the pain, but it would never completely remove it.
During these three years, he had been thinking over a plan, making up his mind, and endlessly mentally apologizing to Cora. His benefactor came in his dreams and said that he forgave him, that this was exactly what he wanted so much.
But after these dreams it only hurt more.
The day he set foot on the island where Jen lives again, he knew he wouldn't turn back.
He gave the team a letter, which he instructed them to read strictly at sunset. He put another letter for himself and hid it in his inner pocket. The third is for Jen, with a list of everything that needs to be erased.
He doesn't want to forget Cora. He wants to forget the pain.
Jen tries to dissuade him, telling him that he won't be able to return everything, that it's a one-way ticket. That he might erase something that Law doesn't want to forget, just because it’s related to erasable memories. Law nods.
He had his revenge. He overthrew Doflamingo. Now he must fulfill Cora's last wish for him to be free.
Law closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
***
Hi, Law.
This is a letter from me to myself so that I don't forget important things.
You have blackouts sometimes. It's a consequence of the illness you suffered as a child and survived.
Your whole family and the whole city were infected with this disease. It was incurable. But you managed to escape and find the Ope-Ope Devil Fruit. You ate it before the disease killed you. You were able to heal yourself.
Good people helped you along the way. One of them helped the most, practically saved your life. You called him Cora-san. You are grateful to him and remember him warmly, but he is no longer alive—do not look for him.
You had a sworn enemy, Donquixote Doflamingo, who wanted to get Ope-Ope. You got rid of him by putting him in Impel Down.
Your crew is your family. Take care of them.
You're free now.
P.S. The Straw Hat Pirates aren't your friends, but they're not bad guys.
***
A stranger appears on the upper deck of their submarine two weeks later. Law is still in town at the time, buying the latest medical journals, so the man meets only the crew.
They shoot frowning glances at him, which are mixed with bewilderment, discontent and for some reason fear.
"Donquixote Rosinante?" Ikkaku asks tensely, and there's hope in her voice that she misheard.
"Yes, miss–”
“Ikkaku,” she says quickly and looks around the crew. Everyone is as shocked as she is, and they don't dare to speak.
“Miss Ikkaku," Rosinante smiles and bows slightly. “I'm looking for Trafalgar Law. I know he's your captain. Can I talk to him?”
"You're dead!" Bepo breaks down and takes a step forward. “I'm sorry. I meant, how can you be here?” He's blushing.
Rosinante sighs, as if he hoped to avoid this question.
“I will definitely tell you everything, but first I need to see Law.”
Ikkaku looks at Bepo, steps forward and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I... we don't think that's a good idea."
Rosinante's eyes widen.
"But–”
“Listen,” she begins, and Rosinante sits on his knees so she doesn't have to look up. "Our captain... has been through a lot. His life has been a nightmare for a long time because of what he went through in Flevance and then on Minion. We finally defeated Doflamingo, and now he can live in peace. And be free.”
"But I–”
“And from you, too, Donquixote Rosinante. It would be better if you left.”
“Ikkaku… do you think Captain won't want to see Rosinante?" Bepo asks uncertainly. "He's still–"
Ikkaku's frown deepens.
“We don't know what effect it will have. What if it breaks him? We don't know how that fruit works…”
"What fruit?" Rosinante looks from her to Bepo and back again, puzzled. "Look, I understand that he's been grieving for me all this time and will be angry that I didn't find him sooner, but I'm sure that–”
"Grieving?" Ikkaku narrows her eyes, and Rosinante even moves back a little. "You have no idea how much your death… your fake death has affected him,” she hisses softly.
Rosinante looks down and sighs. His fists clench weakly, but he just nods and stands up.
“I understand you. But I need to see him. No matter what it takes.”
“I don’t invoice for meeting with me yet. Although, perhaps, I should start to—there’s such high demand!”
Rosinante turns abruptly at the voice and looks at Law, standing next to the submarine. His heart skips a beat, and he can't make a sound as he watches Law move onto the deck, drop a bag of books and magazines on the floor, and approach him.
“Law…” is all Rosinante can exhale, staring at him from head to toe and kneeling down again—this time involuntarily, because his legs give up.
"Here I am. And you?”
His heart sinks.
"You don't remember me?"
Law tilts his head to the side, looks him up and down, and shrugs.
"I don't recall. Have we met?”
Rosinante swallows. He frowns, rubs his forehead, and looks up at Law again.
"You don't remember at all?”
"Look, man, you're starting to annoy me. What do you want? Why did you want to see me?”
Rosinante turns, confused, to Ikkaku, who is still standing with pursed lips and crossed arms, as if she has the answer—he's sure she does. Law could not just forget.
Could not.
Ikkaku raises his eyebrows, ‘I told you so,’ but apparently taking pity. She walks up to both of them and squeezes Rosinante's shoulder.
“This guy wants to get to the neighboring island, it’s on our way. I think we can give him a ride, it's only a week’s sail.”
Law looks at him again, and Rosinante swallows.
"I don't know, I don't know," Law sighs dramatically. “Judging by his size, he eats for three.”
"I eat a little!" Rosinante is indignant. “I can live on cabbage alone for a week.”
Law chuckles.
“Okay, we'll give you a cabbage sandwich.”
"I hate bread,” Rosinante says, frowning.
Law suddenly smiles.
"That's something. Okay, come on up, we'll find you a place. Diving in ten minutes!”
The crew begins to fuss, while Rosinante follows Law inside the submarine and still does not understand how to behave.
When Law shows him the guest cabin—Rosinante obviously won't fit in the men's room with his height—the latter decides to make another attempt to talk.
“Anyway, there's a bed here, not for your height, of course–”
“I'll settle, don't worry,” Rosinante quickly cuts him off, comes over and takes his hand. "Law, don't you remember me at all?"
Law abruptly pulls his hand away and takes a step back, instantly bristling.
“Don't grab me like that, I'm not your harbor girl!”
Rosinante sighs.
"I'm sorry, Law. I just don't understand what happened. That is– Of course, you had the right to forget me completely, but I thought– It just– It just confused me a little bit.”
Rosinante sits on the edge of the bed and lowers his head.
Law sighs.
“Fine. I have blackouts. You must have fallen into this memory lapse.”
“Oh,” Rosinante says, looking up. “That explains a lot.”
Law shrugs his shoulders.
“Well, that's it. It's because of a childhood illness. Anyway, I leave. If you need anything, ask the crew, bother me only as a last resort. If..." Law thinks about it, “I don't know, if you're going to die.”
He waves his hand and walks out of the cabin with his kikoku at the ready. Rosinante looks into the empty doorway and still can't believe what is happening, although now something is becoming clearer.
Apparently, Law's memory has replaced everything traumatic that happened on the Minion, and now he simply does not recognize him.
As soon as Law's footsteps fade away, Ikkaku enters the cabin.
She silently sits down next to Rosinante, looks in front of her and obviously chooses her words.
Then, as if she hadn't picked it up, she hands him a piece of paper and waits.
Rosinante unfolds it, looks at the sprawling handwriting, and reads.
Dear crew,
I have made a difficult decision, which I hope will make my life and your interaction with me a little easier. Some events in my life have affected me, my character and my attitude towards people, too much, and it destroys me every day.
After revenge, it's time to get back to normal.
Today, Jen, my acquaintance with the power of the fruit that allows him to erase memory, will remove some memories from my head. I hope this will help me start living with a clean slate, become calmer and wiser, and stop making impulsive decisions out of revenge, anger, and despair, putting myself and my loved ones in mortal danger
I'll ask him to erase the memories of Rosinante and Flevance. Stop judging me for my weakness (I've done it myself millions of times since I met Jen). I don't want to forget everything.
But I want to rewrite the memories.
I wrote myself the same letter, where I tell a different version of the events related to them. Perhaps less traumatic. However, I am aware from it that Cora-san saved me and that he is no longer with us. However, I did not mention his name. I know that it can pop up in someone's stories or questions, so I don't want to flinch every time I hear it (I'm not sure if the fruit also erases the body's memory: reactions to sounds, images, and smells).
I will also know the story of my rescue from Flevance in a slightly different way. I hope that after that I will stop seeing the corpses of the inhabitants of the city in my nightmares.
I'll be back after sunset today. There is a chance that I will forget something or someone else—just remind me. According to my legend, for myself, I suffer from memory lapses due to an illness in childhood, so it won't be difficult.
See you later and I hope for your understanding. I'm doing this selfishly for my own sake, but I sincerely wish it would have a positive impact on your life, making me calmer.
P.S. In case Jen turns out to be an asshole and I don't come back until midnight, here's the address of the tavern where we met, as well as some information about him…
Rosinante looks up from the letter and looks in front of him. His head is buzzing, and his heart is pounding fast, as if it doesn't know where to go from panic.
After giving him a couple of minutes to digest what he has read, Ikkaku takes the letter, puts it in her uniform pocket and looks at Rosinante.
“It was very bad. Sometimes he would wake up screaming in terror, shouting your name. He sacrificed his whole life to avenge you, and almost died along the way, along with everyone who volunteered to help him in this," she says softly. “Our flag, his tattoos, the name of our team—it's all for and because of you. Everything is connected to you. He needed it. Don't judge him and try to understand.”
Rosinante doesn't condemn at all, but he can't understand it now either, because everything, including Ikkaku's last words about the flag and the rest, just doesn't fit in his head.
He absolutely did not want such a fate for Law when he sacrificed himself—and only now realizes what a huge mistake it was to take such a risk, leaving the boy alone, doomed to eternal pain.
"I'm not judging,” Rosinante whispers hoarsely and runs a trembling hand through his hair, and then takes out cigarettes. "I just– It's all too much. And how–” He frowns and looks at the woman. “How do I communicate with him? As a stranger?”
“I don’t know what exactly he wrote about your relationship in a letter to himself, but it is better not to say that you have risen from the dead.”
"I didn't,” Rosinante shakes his head. “I was saved, it's just–”
“It doesn't matter anymore. We don't know if something can bring back memories or how it will affect him. What if it kills him?”
Rosinante frowns and lights a cigarette, but Ikkaku immediately snatches it out and puts it out.
"It's a submarine! You can only smoke near the range hood.”
Rosinante sighs and closes his eyes.
“Sure. So, don't mention our past?”
Ikkaku is silent and suddenly slaps him on the shoulder.
“I understand that it can be difficult. But if he hadn't erased his memory and you came back like that 13 years later, saying that you hadn't found a single way to contact him during that time, condemning him to all the suffering he went through, I think he would have cut off your head, and he would have been right.”
Rosinante chuckles and twirls a cigarette in his hand.
"That's probably true. So where's the hood?”
***
Law is tossing and turning in bed and can't relax. This stranger, who, as he learned for some reason from the crew, and not from him, is called Rosinante, causes him vague, incomprehensible anxiety—or trepidation, he does not yet understand.
When the man took his hand, something turned over inside—Law initially thought it was indignation, but then realized it was something else.
Maybe he just liked the stranger. Law doesn't believe in love at first sight, but such a handsome man couldn't help but attract his attention. Law snorts; it all looks silly, but it suddenly feels like he hasn't had fun in a very long time. It's worth fixing it.
Behind these thoughts and plans, he does not notice how he falls asleep—and then abruptly wakes up in a panic attack. His heart is pounding fast, and sweat has formed on his forehead and back, but he doesn't remember what he dreamed. And did he dream at all? His head is dark, his body is shaking, and Law is sure that he knows these feelings, but he does not remember what caused them before.
He lies back down and tries to sleep, but it won't come. His body remains tense, as if ready for battle, his thoughts race after each other, as if Law is trying to find the one that will explain this condition. Finally, giving up, Law gets out of bed and leaves the cabin.
On nights like this, he always lifts the submarine to the surface and goes out to look at the stars.
He only manages to be alone with himself for five minutes when Rosinante joins him.
"It's so unusual to sail on a submarine," he grins, lighting a cigarette. “I can’t smoke normally.”
“Smoking kills,” Law says distractedly, glancing at the guest's face: how his lips stretch, how his skin reflects the moonlight, how the wind blows his white, slightly wavy hair.
Rosinante suddenly looks straight into his eyes.
"I'll try not to die," he says softly, and it should sound like a joke, but for some reason his face is serious.
Law likes to look at his face. It’s beautiful, with regular features, and his eyes have an unusual wine color—and Law doesn't want to look away from them.
He likes Rosinante's voice. It's soothing. It awakens something warm inside.
Law turns away and looks at the stars again.
"Can't sleep?" after a couple of minutes of silence, Rosinante asks quietly.
“Yeah," Law says simply.
Rosinante hesitates, but carefully clarifies, "Nightmares?"
Law glances at him. “More like tension.”
"I'm glad they're not bothering you anymore."
Law looks at him with narrowed eyes. "How do you know about nightmares?"
Rosinante takes a drag, gaze lingering on Law, tense and uncertain. He puts out the cigarette and sighs, raising his eyes to the stars.
"You and I… traveled together for a while.”
Law is still looking at him in disbelief.
"Where? When?”
It pisses him off that Rosinante isn't looking at him, and he's suddenly filled with anxiety that came out of nowhere.
"You were," Rosinante pauses and takes out a new cigarette, "a teenager. Life pushed us together. We were looking for the same… treasure together. And, by the way, we found it," he smiles. The lighter ignites his shirt, and Law uses his power to throw the fire into the water. “Oh. Cool.”
Law chuckles.
“Anyway, you were already suffering from nightmares then. Sometimes you stayed up half the night, and I comforted you.”
“Did you rock me in your arms?” Law snorts, rolling his eyes.
"Sometimes I did," Rosinante replies, looking at him quite seriously.
Law shakes his head and looks up at the sky. They're silent and don't discuss anything else, and for some reason he gets a strange feeling of deja vu. Probably from their travels.
“Did it help?” Law asks quietly.
"Always," Rosinante replies just as quietly.
Law nods, closes his eyes, and doesn't notice how he falls asleep on the deck after a while. And then he doesn't wake up when strong arms pick him up and gently carry him back to the cabin, then cover him with a blanket and carefully run the fingers through his disheveled black hair.
“Sweet dreams, Law,” Rosinante whispers softly and leaves his cabin, quietly closing the door behind him.
***
Strange anxiety persists at night. Law remembers having nightmares before, although he doesn't remember their contents, but now he definitely doesn't dream about anything. At the same time, he wakes up with a fast-beating heart, cold sweat on his back and sometimes with tears in the corners of his eyes.
Finally, tired of this uncertainty, a few days later he goes to the lab and performs a full-body scan. He dissects every organ, checks the blood, examines the brain with extreme care, but finds nothing.
He's definitely missing something.
Collapsing the Room, he rests his head on his palm and sighs.
“Captain, I'm sorry, but Rosinante is here…”
He turns around at Bepo's voice and sees a blond head behind his back.
"I said you were busy, but he insists–”
"Let him come in," Law waves his hand and hides a couple of recent researches in the table—he doesn’t know what this man has in mind.
Rosinante takes a quick look around the lab, and then approaches Law. He squats down, and Law notices the plate of onigiri in his hands.
“Shachi said that you haven't eaten since yesterday, and I decided–”
He suddenly sways, almost falls back, but holds the plate. Law takes it away, not holding back a cheerful smile.
For some reason, this clumsiness seems very cute to him.
"And you decided to scatter my lunch all over the lab?" Law answers, shoving onigiri into his mouth and only now feeling how hungry he was.
Rosinante sits down on the floor, looking up slightly guiltily from under his eyelashes.
“Relax. Thank you," Law nods. Then he hands him a plate, "Will you have one yourself?"
Rosinante shakes his head, and Law shrugs and continues eating.
When the onigiri is over, he puts the empty plate on the table and looks at Rosinante again.
"Is that all? Or did you want something?”
Rosinante still shakes his head guiltily.
"Then don't bother me while I work.”
He turns away to the table, but he hears some kind of sad sigh. He rolls his eyes and turns his head slightly to the side.
"What else?"
He suddenly feels warm hands on his tense shoulders, tensing up even more, but Rosinante only calmly and gently begins to massage them.
His hands are stronger than most people Law has met, so they expertly knead muscles hardened by years of tension and fighting and send a pleasant current through his veins.
"I just want to help you."
"I'll consider it a fare."
He hears Rosinante chuckle and grins himself. The man’s large hands continue to knead his shoulders, moving down his biceps, then down his back; Rosinante presses his thumbs near his spine, hitting particularly painful points, and Law lets out a couple of groans and arches slightly forward.
“Yes, more," he breathes, exposing himself to the touch, and again he hears a chuckle.
The relaxation from the massage smoothly flows into arousal, catches the throat and flows like fire to the lower abdomen. He licks his dry lips, feels his breathing getting heavier, and opens his eyes.
From the bottom up, Rosinante's eyes seem darker, like aged red wine, and it's even more intoxicating.
Law turns around, pulls Rosinante by the shirt towards him, almost colliding with his lips, and puts his palm on his cheek. It's warm and smells of shaving foam, cigarettes, and the fragrant herbal tea he drank at lunch. For some reason, Law's heart sinks.
He has never wanted to kiss someone so much, intimacy has never been so desirable and necessary, and he does not understand what is so special about this person that he makes everything inside tremble and feel happiness with his presence, light touches and voice.
Law kisses him on his warm, soft lips, an involuntary sob suddenly escapes from his chest. He wraps his arms around Rosinante’s neck and presses his body close, aching for him to hold him back.
He pulls away a little and, gasping, exhales into his lips, “Rosinante…”
He wants to kiss him again, but Rosinante suddenly pulls away; there is confusion and slight fright in his eyes, as if he did not expect this to happen, and something breaks inside Law.
“Law, I– I don't– It's not very appropriate now," he mutters, not looking into Law's eyes.
Law looks away, frowning, and turns back to the table, pulling books and notebooks towards him.
"Thanks for the food and the massage, but now get out and don't bother me again.
He hears Rosinante's footsteps moving away, slow, as if he hasn't quite decided if he wants to leave, and exhales when the door closes behind him.
For the first time, someone's rejection hurts him so much inside.
***
Law doesn't even try to sleep that night. In a couple of days, they will arrive on the island where Rosinante goes, and they will never see each other again.
Normally, Law would have been happy about this fact—out of sight, out of mind—but now it hurts. It seems to him that Rosinante is more important than all his other lovers, that their bond is stronger than he can imagine—just a damn memory fails.
He looks up at the stars again and is not surprised when Rosinante joins him. He lies down next to Law, puts his hands under his head and exhales cigarette smoke into the sky.
They're silent for a long time, and Law feels the air around them sparkle with tension and awkwardness, mostly from Rosinante. He decides to help him.
"You don't have to reciprocate."
“I know,” Rosinante replies immediately. Law raises an eyebrow. The man takes another drag, exhales, and closes his eyes. "I pushed you away not because I didn't want to kiss you back. But because it was unexpected for me.”
Law lets out a chuckle. Rosinante opens his eyes and turns his head towards him; today he is wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and the way his bangs fall over his eyes from under the hood makes Law feel another unbearable desire to bite into his lips with a kiss.
“I don't like to waste time. When I was a kid, I thought I was going to die soon, and since then–”
"I know," Rosinante whispers.
Law freezes; something in his voice and look makes his heart beat faster.
"Did I tell you?"
Rosinante freezes, and then slowly nods. Law looks at the stars again, but inside there remains this strange feeling of understatement.
“Now I appreciate every second and do what I want right away. Not everyone likes it.”
“I like it,” Rosinante suddenly says, taking his hand. Law looks at their hands, his heart skips a beat, and when Rosinante wants to take his own away—apparently remembering Law's outburst last time—Law grabs him and won't let go.
And they interlace their fingers at the same time.
Law looks into his eyes and swallows. "Then why didn't you kiss me back?"
Rosinante sighs. "Because the last time I saw you, you were a teenager. I haven't seen enough of you as an adult to realize that you've already grown up. And became a handsome, strong and confident man. Although..." he grins and strokes Law's palm with his thumb, “you've always been confident.”
"How long have you known me?" Law whispers, lost in his gaze, full of fondness and admiration.
"Enough to love you."
Law exhales. It's strange for him to admit it, but he feels the same way. It's stupid, completely childish, and implausible, but he feels like he's known Rosinante all his life.
“I– I love you too," Law whispers faintly.
Hearing what he just said, Law bites his lip, frowns and wants to pull his hand away and throw himself into the sea. He is scared, embarrassed and ashamed—what nonsense it is to say such a thing to a barely familiar person.
But for some reason, an incredible lightness appears in his whole body, as if he has shed a weight that he has been carrying for many years, and tears have come to his eyes.
"Law, come here."
Law moves closer to Rosinante, and then just climbs on top, kisses him again—the kiss comes out wet and salty—and buries his face in the man’s neck, digging his fingers into his sweatshirt.
He doesn't know why he wants to cry, and his chest is bursting with happiness, and he just enjoys this moment, deciding to think about it later.
Rosinante hugs him tightly, strokes his hair and back, kisses the top of his head, and this makes him want to cry even more.
Law raises his head, looks into Rosinante's eyes, and suddenly there seems to be a flash in his head.
“Cora. Cora-san,” Law whispers hoarsely, intermittently, glancing at Rosinante's face.
He looks back with wide eyes, and then flinches when Law sits on top of him and slaps him in the face with all his might.
“Why the hell did you disappear for 13 years and didn't tell me that you were alive?!”
He beats on his chest, tears flow from his eyes, and Rosinante just holds his hips and waits.
"I'll explain everything, Law, I swear I'll tell you everything–”
“How could you! What the hell took so long!”
He keeps hitting him with his fists on his chest, but it feels like he's thirteen—the punches are too weak, as if Law himself doesn't have the strength to really get angry.
Rosinante grabs his wrists and speaks quickly, “I was captured by a pirate from that crew, he wanted to use my knowledge from the Marines, and then I was afraid that Doffy would blackmail you, and then CP-0–”
Law doesn't listen to him and shuts him up with a kiss, and Rosinante responds fervently, opening his lips and pulling Law in, arms wrapped around him tightly.
Law pulls away, looks into his eyes, blinking his wet eyelashes, and smiles.
“You're such an idiot, Cora-san. I love you so much.”
Rosinante is smiling as broadly as he hasn't smiled since their last meeting, it seems.
“I love you too, Law," he whispers and runs his hand through Law’s hair.
Law buries his face in his chest, listening to the loud pounding of his heart, puts his hand on it and exhales, feeling the pain accumulated over thirteen years dissipate.