Work Text:
"Will you please, please, please?"
Law stared at the blushing girl in front of him, her hands clutching the bouquet of daisies big enough to block him from entering his bookstore.
It was six in the morning.
The defining moment that led him to this predicament was a Tuesday evening at the end of August two years ago, when Sanji, fresh out of college, had sat inside a bar with him and proposed that they shared the same flat together.
They had always been two very different people. Sanji moved through the world with effortless grace and all the right muscles in all the right places, while Law was taller, sharper, distinctly lankier. More scalpel than sculpture. Sanji's eyes were warm and good-humored; Law's narrowed on instinct, scaring away small children with just his resting bitch face.
Wherever Sanji went, admirers trailed after him. Men and women and anyone with a pulse. On the other hand, Law's attitude inspired infamy. Which wasn't to say he minded. Solitude suited him just fine. Distance, even better.
Sanji, it seemed, wasn't the type who enjoyed being left alone with his thoughts for too long. But even he appreciated a little breathing room every now and then.
His adoptive father wasn't well-off, and the least said about Law's family life the better, so when Sanji had brought up the declining nature of economy and the benefits they would reap if they shared rent, Law'd thought, why the hell not.
He liked having Sanji around, while Sanji liked living with someone who didn't go into heart palpitations at the sight of him. If Law had to slam the door on visitors hopeful for a chance with Sanji during Valentine's or any other holiday, the consolation prize was always worth it. A dessert still warm from the oven and a mug of bubbling hot coffee did wonders for his irritation.
Unfortunately, Charlotte Pudding had accosted him right in the middle of the street, which was conveniently devoid of any door for him to slam shut.
"No," he replied tiredly. "His coffee shop is right there. Give this to him yourself."
"I can't," she wailed. "I could never manage to get the words out. Please. I will not let you start working otherwise."
Law raised an eyebrow. "Resorting to blackmail now, are we?"
The only reason he was still entertaining this foolish charade was because Sanji's shop was right across the streets from his bookstore, and he would throw an unholy fit if he saw Law treat a girl rudely.
His phone rattled in his pocket at the precise moment he opened his mouth to tell her off.
robin: I'm in the middle of an emergency at my school. I won't be able to pick up my books.
robin: I'll send a friend of mine to do it for me. Is that okay?
law: No problem.
After confirming the name and the time of arrival, Law gave Charlotte a derisive look. He truly had no time for this nonsense.
"Give it here!" he snapped.
"Thank you, thank you!"
The moment Sanji spotted Law, his eyebrows shot up.
"Are those for yesterday's dinner?" the bastard purred. "You shouldn't have."
Law set the bouquet carefully on the counter. The whole shop was mercifully empty. "They're from Charlotte."
His whole demeanor changed. Sanji li up like someone had plugged him directly into the sun. With heart seemingly bursting out of his eye sockets, he swept the flowers up and gave them a spin around the room. A vase appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly the flowers were posed by the register like they were about to enter a beauty pageant.
"How lovely, I will bake her some pastries as thanks—"
"You do know she's into you, right?"
Sanji waved him off. "Nonsense. She's just being nice because she knows I adore flowers."
For someone who could clock a man's romantic intentions from three nautical miles away, Sanji was spectacularly, hilariously blind when women were concerned. They could catapult themselves at him shouting he was cute, and he'd still assume they were just being their usual charming, delightful, impossibly generous selves.
Bidding him a see-you-later and received a styrofoam cup of coffee for his trouble, Law made his way back to his bookstore, an old, vintage, low-to-the-ground place that would feel cramped the moment it housed more than five people. Thankfully, Law wasn't swimming in customers—good for his comfort level, bad for business.
As he turned the doorknob, his eyes darted to the window. His reflection stared back, familiar and predictable: twenty-six was the kind of age that made him feel old, even though it was disturbingly young in reality. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with the wool cuffs pushed to the elbow, folded and folded neatly, and a pair of even darker chinos that were a step up in the comfortable level from his usual jeans. His hair was slightly longer and messier from the wind, and his glasses glinted sharply from the residue sprinkle earlier. Autumn in his city was a soft suggestion to those who couldn't stand the brutality of winter that they ought to stock up on soup and blanket, or maybe find someone to cuddle close with.
Last night, in the middle of the seventeenth attempt at researching for a rare book, Law'd thought of dating again. It had been a moment of utter weakness that was thoroughly squashed during the sobriety of a Monday's morning. The last few months of the year tended to have that effect on people, because who would want to spend the holidays alone? It was nothing more than a mass hypnosis; he was appalled at himself for briefly falling for it.
He shook his head at the temporary insanity and walked inside.
His routine consisted of sweeping away the overnight dust, rearranging the shelves, double-checking his stock. Then he spent most of his time researching on his computer and hunting outdoors for rare books that his special clients needed.
Despite the unassuming exterior and a tragic lack of marketing, the few people who knew Law held him in decently high regard when it came to tracking down books for them. They were mostly researchers in dire need of references.
Robin was one of them, probably the first to notice his talent. They had been contacting each other back and forth for close to four years now, to the point where Law had heard a couple times of her own social circle.
The details were scarce at best, considering they were both people of few words, but he at least knew of a redhead with a hefty Instagram followers, a guy who excelled at archery, a guy who slept a lot, and a young photographer. She had inquired about his own friends in return, to which Law relinquished no details due to a lack of said friends.
"I have a roommate," he had provided stiffly, trying and failing to not sound like a secluded loser. "He's a great cook and he makes decent coffee."
She had smiled at that. "I know one or two friends of mine who would adore that."
A small ping went off. Law reached for his phone, currently face first on the oak counter.
marco: his health is good today as well
law: any breathing issues?
marco: nope
marco: his lungs have been working so well lately he's been asking for a cigarette
marco: i'm not gonna give him one relax
marco: same time this week right?
law: Yes, thank you.
Law looked up at the chiming sound of the bell. A man had just walked in, and the first thing he noticed was the brown eyes verging on black, then the small, heavy-looking messenger bag.
Between the wild hair and the solid build, he reminded Law of the friendly gods children's stories always spoke of.
The man waved at him, beaming.
Law straightened up, returning the gesture. "You must be Luffy," he guessed, adjusting the brim of his glasses.
"Yup! I'm here for books!"
"I'd hope so." He nodded, placing the packaged books on the counter. "Be careful with them, alright? They're first editions."
"Gotcha." He gave a sloppy salute, eyes darting around. "Can I take some pictures?"
Taken aback, Law's eyes squinted into suspicious slits. "Why?"
"This place looks nice," he replied, then elaborated, "I'm a photographer. Uh, more an apprentice. I'm learning from Shanks."
"… who's Shanks?"
It was a familiar enough name, but Luffy seemed to view his vague recollection as a great offense. "Only the best photographer ever, at least until I surpass him!"
He launched right into listing Shanks's achievements globally, never mind that it was seven in the morning and Law was in the middle of a job.
And then Luffy laughed. And it was a resonant, undeniable and surprising attack, like being trampled by a parade of elephants in a savanna. Already, he knew Luffy was a lot. Jesus wept, he needed to concentrate on what the man was actually saying.
His focus tuned in to the walking radio in front of him just in time to catch a whiny: "—I'm so hungry!"
Law blinked. "You're hungry," he repeated, whiplashed.
As if to prove a point, Luffy's stomach gave a gurgling growl. He hunched over it and smiled again with a wince. "Know any good place to eat nearby, Torao?"
He thought: that's not my name.
He said, "Right across the street. Come on, I know the owner."
Sanji looked bemused when their eyes met. "A friend of yours?"
"Yup!" Luffy grinned. "I'm Luffy!"
"Hi, man. I'm Sanji, this emo's roommate. Here's the menu."
"He's not my friend," Law interjected amidst Luffy's crowing. "Robin's."
"You been hiding a lady this whole time?" Sanji demanded. "It's rude to not introduce your girlfriend, you know."
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Ah, so another friend of yours then."
"Make the damned drinks," Law snapped.
"Watch your temper, damn."
Luffy made himself comfortable on the chair across him, grinning. He didn't seem to mind Law's sudden outburst, for all that Law's neck was flushing with mortification.
"What do you do for a living, Torao?" he asked eagerly.
"You've just been there. I work in a bookstore."
"Really," he blinked owlishly. "You look like you have two jobs."
"What does that mean?"
"Dunno."
Law scowled. Luffy grinned wider.
"Here you go," Sanji said, stepping in just in time before Law did something ill-advised, like upending the table. "Another black coffee for you, and half the menu's pastries for Luffy here."
Luffy tore into the croissants. He devoured the tiramisu. He practically inhaled the mochi combo. Law and Sanji watched in awe as the man decimated the whole thing in under ten minutes.
Law hadn't taken more than two sips of coffee.
Something about this scene was familiar. Law clocked it seconds before Luffy's face tilted up, specked with red bean paste and white flour, smiling with starlight in his eyes.
"Sanji, these are the best desserts I have ever eaten. In my life," he enthused, licking his fingers. "Do you accept shipping order too? I need to eat like this every day."
A slow smile bloomed on Sanji's face, always happy to receive genuine compliments about his food. "Delivery's available here. Just because I have never seen my food taken care off this fast, you can eat some macaroon. On the house."
Law watched Luffy's whole face brightened up, and nodded sagely to himself.
Luffy's crush was instant and obvious. One more admirer to the roster. Thankfully, he didn't look like the type to ask someone delivering flowers on his behalf, so Law mentally rewarded a point in his favor.
His phone gave a distinct ping inside his pocket. He saw the name and already felt like smirking.
"Excuse me," he interrupted the lovebirds, standing up. "I need to make a call."
"Have fun!"
"Say hi for me," Sanji yelled.
"You don't even know who it is."
"You have, like, four to five numbers saved."
"Kindly shut the fuck up."
The door shut behind him. Finding no seat and therefore resigning to standing next to the window, he pressed dial.
The line connected. "What did you do," he drawled, half-joking, half-bracing.
"How could you say that to me," Roule demanded, already riled up. "I've been leaving my principal's office alone!"
"Uh huh."
"Your lack of trust is the sole factor steadily pushing me into a life of crime."
"You'd have no one else to blame but yourself, kid. Why are you calling me then, if not to confess to another well-deserved detention?"
"I wanna call about the music club, you ass—"
"Language," he drawled mildly.
"—it's cool. I like it."
Law's eyebrows crinkled in surprise. Roule was one of Cora's distant relatives' son, whose father recently fell ill. He'd been living with his mother, whose house happened to stay right near Law's apartment, and he'd been making sure the kid didn't get kicked out of school for the past eight months. Roule's mother was too busy with her job to bother with him, and the kid had taken to stir up troubles wherever he went.
"Reminds me of a kid I know," Cora had laughed whenever he complained.
In order to steer Roule clear of becoming a drug dealer or a scammer, Law'd tried to get him to enjoy extracurricular activities. While he had encouraged the kid to sign up for the music club, he hadn't held much hope. Roule was a very particular kid, so every activity could be a hit or miss.
It seemed like the club was a hit.
"Tell me about it," he prompted. "Why do you like it? Spare no details. It's not like I have a job or anything."
"You're awful."
"Breaking news. Tell me anyway."
Roule hummed, bashful. "It's fun, I guess. Everyone's nice. I don't even need to punch anyone to stop them from bullying me. And, uh, I dunno, electric guitars are cool. I guess. Not like I'm gonna bring a guitar to a party anytime soon, coz that's such a douchebag move."
"How judgemental of you."
"I learn from the best," the kid snarked. "Some of the members want to form a band some day, and, uh, I dunno, I think that'd be nice. Never played on stage before but I want to try. And there's… there's a girl."
Law couldn't help it. He smiled.
"Really."
"She plays the drums. She did the intro from Brianstorm yesterday. You know, by—"
"I know about the Arctic Monkeys."
"Couldda fooled me."
"So, what's her name?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know."
"I mean, I don't talk to her."
"You mean you can't."
"Oh, we got Mister Extroverted over here."
Law rolled his eyes. He didn't know where Roule learned his biting sarcasm from.
"I'm only going to say this once. You're smart. You're hard-working. You're sincere. Sometimes, you're even funny—"
"Hey!"
"—Maybe this girl's been hoping that you'll speak to her one day. After practice."
"Ugh," he sounded distinctly embarrassed.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. You might just make a great friend."
"You think so?"
"I know so. You got this."
"Okay," Roule replied with a small laugh. "I'm gonna hang up now."
Law slipped his phone back in his pocket, pleasantly warm. Roule would be fine.
"Hey."
Law almost jumped out of his skin. Adrenaline rushed to the rest of his body, stiffening his spine. He whipped around, heart in his throat, and pinned a glare at Luffy's sheepish face.
"Sorry," he said brightly. He didn't seem apologetic, even though he was plenty genuine. Weirdo. "Just wanna say I gotta head out now!"
Law nodded, embarrassed. How long had Luffy been standing there?
"Goodbye."
"See you again soon, Torao!"
Law left the hospital at around ten in the evening, cycling home through the city to savor the last bit of air that had yet to turn bitingly cold.
It'd been a long day. Usually, people de-stressed during the weekends, and Law did enjoy talking to Cora, felt himself relax for the first time in two weeks.
But as with all great parties, the hangover tended to hit hard. Exhaustion marred his bones. His eyes hurt. His nose couldn't avoid the reek of exhaust fume and uncollected trash on the streets.
When Sanji's drunken texts arrived, asking if he could pick him up at a nearby bar, he suddenly wanted to hit someone.
law: Give me five minutes.
sanji: tks u sbet
He found Sanji slumping over a corner booth with two other men, and he was gearing up to punch someone in the throat right then and there until one of them turned around, dispelling the stranger danger! blaring inside his head with a familiar grin.
"Torao!" Luffy yelled happily, face flushed. "Sit with us! Torao, Zoro. Zoro, Torao."
Zoro, significantly more sober, gave him a pleasant nod. "Hi, Torao," he parroted.
Law inclined his head, stooping down to drape Sanj's arm over his shoulder. "Thanks for looking after him."
"No problem."
"Have a drink!"
He gave Luffy a glare. "I'm his designated sober guy, what do you think?"
"Boo!"
Then, out of nowhere, under the pulsing, headache-inducing lights, "Torao, are you okay?"
Someone started hollering at the top of their lungs, starting up a rhythmic chant that overshadowed the music. Final months of the year always pushed people into a frenzy, though nothing as bad as during the summer. Law could feel the warmth in his ears, the jittery motion of nerves under his skin, Sanji's snores on his right shoulder.
"Just peachy," he said.
Luffy looked doubtful, which, awesome. The whole point of his resting bitch face was to make sure others couldn't see that he was literally dragging his decaying carcass through life. He bristled, irritation running hot under his skin. He gave another curt goodbye then beat a hasty escape.
Before he was fully out the door, Luffy managed to call after him.
"Text me when you're home!"
What was that guy's deal?
Like hell would he ever text him. He didn't even have his number.
luffy: 30 mins
luffy: torao r u home
luffy: torao torao torao
luffy: torao torao torao
law: How did you get this number?
luffy: you punctuate
luffy: thats funny
luffy: also i asked sanji
Law closed his eyes. He let the rage simmer. Then he reached for a small pot and Sanji's favorite pan.
With great relish, he banged them together.
Sanji gave a whimper, curling pathetically on the couch. "What's wrong with you," he groaned, shielding his ears. "Stop it you maniac."
"Don't even get me started with you," Law snapped. "You gave my personal number to a stranger!"
"Luffy's not a stranger. We're friends and everything."
"You have known each other for less than a week!"
Law continued to bang pots and pans together to the beats of Panic! at the Disco's discography for half an hour until Sanji successfully begged for his mercy.
Law looked up when the door swung open. "It's you again," he sighed.
"It's me again," Luffy agreed.
"Robin-ya didn't ask for any deliveries. Why are you here?"
"I like it here!"
Law really wanted to call his bluff, but Luffy did seem to enjoy being at the store. Ever since that day two weeks ago, he'd taken his possession of Law's number as some kind of tacit permission to text Law and come to where Law worked.
Luffy was very grabby. He grabbed at shelves, he peered into nooks, ooh and ahh as he laid down on the floor, springing back up to paw at the books again. He only ever stayed in the children or comic section. The peace that had once ruled over Law's bookstore was now thoroughly disturbed by a constant stream of chatter.
Naturally suspicious, he had found Luffy's presence irritating without knowing about his true intention. Then, at the end of every impromptu meeting, Luffy had demanded Law take him to Sanji's shop, and finally, it made sense, like the stars aligning.
Nevertheless, he did seem genuinely nice to Law. Unlike so many others, he didn't seem like he was using him to get closer to Sanji at all.
If Robin's conversation consisted of a few sentences here and there, then Luffy just held Law up by his cuff and flung him inside his world. Law knew about his interests, his family, his friends, his closest friends, his ten thousand snacks in one day.
He talked to Law as if he wanted to be friends.
Law didn't know if he would even call Luffy that, but his annoying presence in his life did manage to bother him so much he had no time to brood, as Cora had so kindly pointed out for him.
Law hadn't had the heart nor the energy to put up a fight against his remark, however token it would be.
His guardian had steadily gotten better, listening to doctors and nurses and steering clear of smoking up until the day before his discharge when he proceeded to have a minor heart attack.
"It's fine, it's fine," Cora waved him off that afternoon after he had barged into the recovery room in a panic. "I just need to stay here a couple more days."
Law looked at the thin man in front of him and almost failed to reconcile him to that distant image of a man whose laugh shook the ceiling of their small flat back when he'd still been a kid. Cora was stronger than he looked, but these past two years had not been so kind to him.
Law wanted to stay by his side always, but medical bills kept stacking up. With the store, and a part-time teaching job, and late night tutoring for students from a nearby colleges, he was stretched thin.
After extracting a promise to be a good patient, Law finally left Cora to his much needed rest.
The bright hallway greeted him, and the scent of medical equipments assaulted his nostrils right after, making his head spin. Or maybe it was the strain of the last few hours pacing back and forth. Law pushed his hands over his eyes and briefly wondered if he could push them into his sockets as much as humanly possible.
Someone poked him in the shoulders.
He opened his eyes, and that someone turned out to be Luffy.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ace broke his leg falling asleep," Luffy replied. Even the lights here didn't manage to wash out the healthy hue that sat upon the curve of his cheeks. "I'm here to drive him home."
"How is he?"
"Already better!"
"Good."
Luffy stared at Law. Said, "Are you okay?"
He was so tired.
"Take a guess," he replied, flat. "I'm at a hospital."
No one stood around in the hallway of a medical facility unless they were constantly on the verge of losing the last person on earth who loved them.
His phone gave a small ping, announcing the arrival of his cab. He slid into it, slamming the door shut. Luffy watched, face unreadable, and the ache worsened somehow, as if Law'd just kicked a golden retriever.
It persisted, lying dormant. When it emerged once more, he found himself standing by the elevator, pallor washed out by the glare of overhead lights, listening to white noises from an online video to stay calm. He shivered with the need to cry. It was only when he walked into his apartment, hands heavy with Sanji's wordless gesture of support manifesting as a plate of rice balls and orange juice, that he began to think of Cora's unfinished suffering, his unfinished hurt.
Never easy to visit someone in the hospital. He ached at the thought of leaving Cora's care up to someone else—Marco was brilliant, he knew that; ached worse at the prospect of spending his every waking moments watching Cora's deterioration.
Then, he thought of Luffy. Earnest, sunlit, cotton candy and fucking rainbow Luffy.
He had never told anyone he wasn't okay. That small confession was, despite his current intention, truly the beginning of something inevitable.
To celebrate the recent success of her research paper, Robin decided to throw a party in her home. Sanji, by virtue of knowing Luffy, had been invited, and she had insisted Law be there too.
"Just food and drinks," she promised over the phone. "A lot of people are coming, which means you won't be bothered."
He said no.
Later that day, she sicced Luffy on him, and the bloodhound would not leave his store until he said yes.
Robin's house was tastefully decorated with souvenirs and collectibles from her years of travel. Move On Up was playing on her Bluetooth. Sanji'd brought deviled eggs and salted potatoes and they practically melted on Law's tongue whenever he passed by the kitchen to snag a bite. People swapped stories then replaced their greeting handshakes with cups of Maple Old Fashioned, and the sound of clinking glasses filled the gaps in between laughter and conversations.
Many people subtly eyed him whenever he entered a room, as though it was obvious he didn't belong here. Radio was now blasting through Robin's speaker in the living room that overlooked the night sky. Almost twenty people were dancing with each other, the rest was either cooking, eating or crowding in other rooms playing games.
"Look," Sanji whispered to him when Law doubled back to the kitchen for another glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. He revealed about ten pieces of paper inside his hand with a flourish, looking awed and flustered. "They want to come see my shop next week."
"I think they want to see more than just your shop," he drawled.
"Hush, you," Sanji chided without heat. "If that's really their intention, I'll turn them down gently with some lava cakes."
"That'll do it."
"Anyone catches your eyes yet?"
Law refocused, frowning at Sanji's odd tone. He only used that voice when he wanted to mess with Law. "No," he said slowly, testing the water.
"You've certainly caught a lot of attention from what I've seen so far."
"I've been wondering about that as well."
"No need to wonder," Sanji nudged him with a laugh. "Luffy's been talking about you to all of his friends."
Law raised an eyebrow. He remembered Luffy's face that day at the hospital, and how he showed up to his bookstore every other day with a camera.
Had Luffy been trying to get more people to go to his bookstore?
It made sense. Luffy was frighteningly observant, and though a thread of humiliation curled around his throat at being assisted like this, he knew Luffy's intention was genuine.
Nevertheless, it would be rude of him to outright refuse Luffy's kind gesture now when it looked like he'd been doing it for a while.
"That's nice," was all he said.
Sanji hummed. "He sure is." His head tiled, as if listening. "Here he comes."
"What—"
Luffy's presence registered as a booming voice and a hand landing across Law's shoulders, bringing their cheeks to squish together in an overly friendly manner. He giggled when Law pushed him away with a sputter, then he hugged Sanji as a greeting, beaming when his hug was reciprocated.
He turned to Law after stuffing his mouth full of nachos. "Let's go."
A scowl formed alongside his raging headache. "Go where?"
"Meet my friends."
"I'm good over here."
Why he even bothered to protest, he would never know. Luffy tugged and made a fuss and was ready to throw a tantrum until Law begrudgingly submitted to being dragged around the party.
"Greatest engineer in the world," Luffy said brightly, circling his arm around a long-nosed guy called Usopp. "I borrow his car all the time because it's always a smooth ride."
Everyone Luffy knew was the greatest something in the world. His neighbor Zoro was the greatest kendo player, his old classmate Nami was the greatest art director, so on and so forth. She had given him an assessing look under her lashes before giving Luffy a grin.
"He's cute," she said, approvingly. Luffy beamed.
I need to get out of here, he thought. He was half-worried one of Luffy's pouts would resurface just to get Law to stay, which was nice and not at all cute of Luffy to do, but Law was seconds away from complete energy deprivation. The worst part was he knew he would stay for a few more minutes upon Luffy's insistence, and wasn't that a horrifying realization to have at nine in the evening.
"Is Torao tired?" he asked, almost gently.
Popping a pink gum, Nami was typing furiously away at her phone while sending the occasional wide-eyed look towards Luffy.
Law cleared his throat, hoping he wasn't coming off as rude to the both of them. "Nothing serious," he deflected.
A frown turned Luffy's smile bemused. "Do you want to leave? Because it's okay."
"Oh my god," Nami swore under her breath, making her escape, fingers still flying across her phone screen.
Law watched her retreating back disappear into the throng of people. "What's her problem?"
"She's probably drunk," Luffy waved his concern away. "You haven't answered me."
What a nuisance. "I'll take my leave," he decided tiredly. "I have work, and I need sleep."
"You look like you need a lot of naps. Want me to walk you home?"
"No," Law said. Luffy wilted slightly in the face of his blunt refusal. "Go back to your friends," he added, softening his voice. The guy was just trying to be nice.
As if sensing his train of thoughts, the sad-looking pout disappeared, overtaken by another beaming smile that attacked Law's retinas.
"Okay, Torao!'
Then Luffy hugged him, his arms and legs wrapping around Law like some kind of octopus.
Law almost fell under the sudden onslaught of warmth and soft wool sweater. Heat overtook his features in a rush when the urge to hug back popped into his head; thankfully, he couldn't do that because his hands were trapped under the weaving of Luffy's limbs, his back pressed to the wall under Luffy's weight.
He patted Luffy lightly on his back, thinking to himself: Uh oh.
"You know, you're not actually hard on the human eyes."
Law turned deliberately slow towards Sanji, who was looking just as uncomfortable.
"What are you doing," he said. "Never mind. Don't answer. Just stop doing it."
The end of the year was slowly approaching, and they had unanimously decided to close up shop early. Just for one day. Sanji, seated primly on the floor of their living room, was feeding his sourdough—lovingly named Valerie. Law was lounging on the couch, the news a soft murmur in the background, and he could fall asleep like this. Realistically, he couldn't. But it felt nice enough that he allowed himself to entertain this small self-delusion.
"I'm just saying, you like to think you're all scary and mean, which, yeah, you can be. But at your core you're a goddamn marshmallow and it's time you embrace your identity without shame."
"What are you rambling on about," Law said. "Stop this right now. Have you been smoking joints without me?"
"I would never," he replied, affronted. "Shut the fuck up. I'm trying to finish my point here."
"For both our sake, do it faster."
Sanji appeared to mull his nonsense over. Then, he opened his big mouth to say: "You know Luffy likes you, right?"
The mention of that blasted name jolted Law back out of his pleasant stupor, his mind immediately attaching a face to that name; a face that glowed like the orange light currently draping warmly over his skin, a face that had, in the recent weeks, made even more frequent appearances in Law's shop.
He also remembered the light on that face whenever its owner spotted Sanji.
"Factually incorrect," he said, scowling. "He likes you."
"Don't be an idiot," Sanji frowned. "It's unbecoming."
"Where is this coming from?"
"You don't seem to notice how he looks at you, which is insane. Luffy doesn't have a poker face." His finger raised to halt Law's protest. "He calls you Torao, and if you buy that your-name-is-hard-to-pronounce bullshit then you're dumber than you look because Trafalgar may be a mouthful but Law is right there."
It was too good to be true. Which meant it couldn't possibly be Law's reality.
Sanji deserved all the attentive adoration the world could offer. It wasn't like Law actively enjoyed the sight of admirers bombarding his roommate all hours of the day, but he derived a level of satisfaction at seeing someone who'd once thought he needed to act a certain way to be loved, only to be fawned over wherever he went.
But he'd hoped, just this one time, to have someone for himself. He wanted to be looked at. He wanted to be seen.
He had truly lost his goddamn mind and he didn't enjoy it one bit.
He huffed, settling back against the armchair. "If you said so," he replied, dismissive.
"I know you won't believe my words, asshole," Sanji was still yapping. "I think you'd believe his action more."
Surprise propelled Law into a sitting position again. "No," he said in horror.
"Yep," Sanji said mercilessly. "He'll be downstairs in under five minutes. I told him you want to talk to him."
"You have no right—"
"You'll definitely thank me later."
"For sticking your nose where it doesn't belong? It's my goddamn life. I can do whatever I choose to."
Sanji shot to his feet. "I'm sick of you mopping all over the place day in, day out. It's exhausting. The Law I know would never be a coward. Give up, or give in, goddamn it! It's been four months!"
Then, before Law could find a weapon to attack him, Sanji sensed his imminent doom and fled into his own room.
Law would move out tomorrow. He would.
His phone gave a little chime.
luffy: torao
luffy: come down!
Law breathed in, then he breathed out. A look in the mirror confirmed that nothing was showing on his face; none of the worry, the fury, the preemptive heartbreak over a guy who didn't even have dreamy eyes. He had bug-like eyes, for fuck's sake. Yet even those looked cute and charming enough that Law just wanted to pluck them out and displayed them the way others did to butterflies.
He was aware of his many creepy tendencies, but he left his apartment anyway. He was aware of the oncoming train wreck, but he closed the door behind him with a soft click anyway. He descended the stairs, he found Luffy standing on the deserted pavement, whistling a happy tune to entertain himself, and felt the urge to walk into traffic rise like an avalanche.
He approached him anyway.
Quietly and deliberately, the maple trees boughed towards them in the starry dark of the approaching night.
"Hey," he greeted.
"Heya," Luffy chirped.
"So I didn't really need to talk to you."
"I know."
"Wait, really?"
"I know how Sanji sounds when he lies."
"That's… good." He didn't know what to expect, really. "I'm glad we manage to sort this out. You want to go grab a bite? You came all this way, after all."
"Sure," Luffy agreed readily. "Before that, though."
Then he hooked his arms around Law and they fell into a kiss that seemed to last many lifetimes, while all around them fallen twigs and empty pavements shone under a new layer of snowfall, streetlights winked in the moonlight, and a whole year was peaking at them near the horizon.
Luffy liked to return to a distant memory of that first day: he was standing by the threshold and a stranger was sitting at the small desk right within his field of vision.
An older man with carved sharp edges and golden hour trapped inside his eyes—so pretty they needed to be framed. This stranger that glanced towards him and held his stare. Luffy smiled, waving. Realizing the wave was for him, the man returned the gesture, hesitation on his face, surety in his movement. Intensity evenly matched. No backing down, and Luffy never stopped falling after that.
Luffy told him that he spent all of his time chasing all the things that were light and dark. That Law was both, and how pretty his blush was after that off-handed but not really comment.
A shutter, a click, a moment captured forever. Rinse and repeat.
When the photos developed, Luffy knew that if Law looked closely, he could see the sharp contrasts across his own skin, his searing frown, his hidden humor existing as a slight crease near the corners of his mouth. His hair looked so black in the pictures it turned almost blue under enough light, like the ever-changing, uncharted dark water of the ocean. Too many things about him made up a full bodied vision of a breathtaking man: his thin fingers, his cutting cheekbones, his expression, his hidden smile.
If he simply looked closely, he would see what Luffy had always seen, what Luffy always would: him.