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Law opens his eyes as the doorknob starts to jingle, before it opens cautiously. His foggy eyes watch as Sanji enters, before locking the door behind him.
“Did you lose something, BlackLeg?” He asks, and Sanji jumps, turning to see him quickly. Maybe he thought this room was lonely and he needed a break from the party going on. Only Law has been there for hours, dozing off while his mind is on other things.
“Law…” he acknowledges, but he doesn't leave or anything. He lifts his shoulders before collapsing next to him on the bed. He can see his clouded eyes, inhibited by the alcohol in his system, but still lucid, in a way. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long.”
“Did the party overwhelm you?” He asks, smiling slightly at him.
“No. I just wanted to think.”
“Mmh? What are you thinking about, Law?”
Sanji chooses that moment to see each other face to face, his dull blue eyes are so beautiful, Law thinks. He grabs one of Law's hands to stroke the tattooed fingers as he waits for a response.
The truth is, Law has been thinking about him, about BlackLeg Sanji. The way his hair shines, the way his eyes reflect the sky, the curve of his smile, the sound of his laugh. He had already caught his attention from the first moment he saw him, and his interest only intensified as he got to know him more and more.
He has a neat and elegant appearance, confined to a fashionable style that suits him well. Sometimes, though, he swings into outfits that hurt others. He has discovered that Sanji is not just all talk and snooty attitude, but also possesses a layer of kindness about him.
“You sure think about that pretty girl from earlier.”
Ah yes, a girl had approached him. She was pretty, Law could tell: dark complexion, purple hair, red eyes. But he'd been too busy watching Sanji make someone else a drink, his hands moving gracefully making a simple cocktail into a divine drink.
"No, not at all. I'm thinking of someone else."
"If that pretty girl had approached me. I might be having a good time right now” he sighs, before grimacing “Better not. This isn't the right environment for that."
But there were people watching you. He wants to tell him. It wasn't just him, there was Pedro too, watching Sanji and lingering at the bar. Gin, who had even asked him to dance, several girls with flirtatious smiles, and plunging necklines waiting for the blond to come out so they could have him in their clutches.
They stand in silence before Sanji cupped his hands together, moving closer to their space. Their knees collide as he closes his eyes.
"That was fun. The party is fun."
“Aren't you coming back?”
"Soon. Zoro still wants my advice on how to flirt with Kiku” he opens his eyes, with a smile on his cute face “Zoro sucks at flirting. When we used to date, the dork always forgot about our dates."
“Mm?” And that little sound is what Sanji needs to speak.
"We both went out because it looked natural... You know, it was cute. But we both liked someone else, it felt natural to date and also to break up. Maybe…” another laugh “We're friends. And that's it."
“I'm glad”
“Your face is as serious as ever.”
Sanji moves closer to him, Law's knees spread out and the blond takes the opportunity to invade more of his space. He can smell the alcohol on his breath, watch his eyelashes more closely. Sanji's arms grab him by the neck to pull him closer. He's too close.
“Sanji?” he asks, confused as a blush begins to cover his cheeks.
“Law” his hands, sinews pronounced, running down his neck and bits of skin. Faint white spots on tan skin. The throbbing in his neck, the blood on his cheekbones. Sanji runs down each of these until his palms rest on his cheeks.
He moves closer, and of all the things the cook could do, he kisses him. Law can taste the alcohol in his mouth, before he even reciprocates, Sanji pulls away.
"Law. You're beautiful."
Sanji is an unfair person, observing beauty in Law's rotting flesh. If he were to show him his beating heart in the flesh he would probably run away in terror. Or maybe not. He doesn't know it as he closes his eyes. Conflicted, not knowing if he wants to wake up from this dream or stay in these clutches of illusion that pull at his ugly heart strings.
"Don't say things like that, Sanji. Don't say things you'll forget tomorrow." Law covers Sanji's hands with his own, a perfect contrast: rough and delicate, tan and white, sturdy and thin. “Don't kiss me, when you'll regret it tomorrow.”
“And who says I will?”
Life is about risks. Rosinante had told him once, half-dying and full of blood. A mission that had gone wrong and almost lost him. But one that had helped him retire from missions like this to raise a sick child who needed a father. You just have to know how to choose which risks to take.
Cora, am I taking the right risk? Is it worth the risk?
Life is about risks. It echoes in his mind.
Law straddles Sanji, runs his arms up his arms until he reaches his hands, where they intertwine their fingers and clasp together. He moves to his lips, the greyish meeting the añil.
“Life is about risks” he says, before kissing him.
Law won't let this be forgotten. Tomorrow, with Sanji in his arms they can talk about this and what their future will be. Law took the risk, and whatever the consequences, he'll take them with his head held high.
For now, he loses himself in Sanji's moan of his name, in his writhing body, and in the sweet taste of sin in his mouth.