Archive of Our Own

“—should get the alligator with gravy can in the evenings, and in the mornings he likes to have the salmon pâté. Rosi, please. Take notes or I won’t know you’re paying attention.”

Turning to shuffle through his desk for a notepad serves the additional function of hiding his eyeroll. Dutifully, Rosinante jots down his brother’s extensive notes about the cat’s schedule.

“— did you get all that?”

Mutely, he holds up the paper. Leaning in, Doflamingo gives it a long, critical inspection over the top of his curling pink glasses, before declaring it of an acceptable standard.

“Very well. I am entrusting you with the safety of my child, Rosianante.”

“...Yes, Doffy.” While he’s glad his brother has finally found something to care about in life, the cat (which he named after himself!) is undeniably spoiled rotten. Given a choice between him and the cat, he’s fairly certain the cat currently sits higher in his brother’s affections. Still, it’s a cat, and therefore not to blame for his brother’s personality. When his brother’s business had him traveling out of the country (something about an acquisition) and the normal sitter fell through, it’s not like he was going to say no to watching the animal.

Hours upon hours of warnings and reminders and care instructions later, he’s regretting his choice. He struggles to keep a pleasantly bland expression on his face, as it seems they’re finally coming to the end of the information his brother feels the need to impart.

“I will be back in a few weeks.”

“Uh-huh.” Cora raises his hand in the universal gesture for ‘goodbye now’, which prompts Doffy to lean down to the carrier sitting on his kitchen passthrough and begin cooing yet another round of comforting affirmations such as “don’t worry, you can have your personal chef again soon” and “Baby, I know his apartment is a dump, but it’s only for a month, okay?”

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t do it. Don’t.

With a truly heroic level of fortitude, Cora manages to keep his face politely neutral, and lets the dig about his (somewhat recently cleaned!) apartment pass by.

Eventually, the cat has been adequately emotionally prepared and given enough inspirational speeches for the (apparently traumatic) experience of being cat-sat (for free) by him. When Doflamingo turns to him he gets a much more cursory farewell, and another list of reminders and best practices for keeping the creature happy. Finally, the door clicks shut, and Cora looks down at his temporary roommate.

“Alright buddy,” he tells the fluffy white Persian now inspecting him with an air of consideration. “Just you and me for now.”

“C'moooon Law, come to the club with us! Finals just ended, and you’re not taking summer classes this year! Come let off some steam!”

Law sighs, turning the page in his current text, and attempting to ignore Shachi looming over him. The library had been perfectly peaceful until about ten minutes ago, when the trio of his friends had noisily found him. With a disregard to their volume levels that had the librarian glancing over reproachfully, they’d been attempting to convince him to attend some new club with them this evening.

Penguin picks up where Shachi left off, positioning himself over Law’s other side and standing in his light. “It’ll be fun dude! We can find some cute girls, or guys in your case? It's been forever!”

Law shakes his head. He has no time for frivolities like that. Summer break is a chance to get ahead. This year in particular had been brutal, with the classwork on his track ramping up ridiculously, and the finals had been hellish. At this point, all he wants is to sleep for a week straight. The last thing he wants is to think about at the moment is cute guys.

Of course, after he’s slept for a week, he might relent and join them on one of their escapades. With his coursework as busy as he is, he’s given up on the idea of dating. If he's not at school, he's at his apartment, studying long hours into the night. Even if he did somehow manage to meet someone, it's not like he has time to go out. His last attempt at a relationship had made his failings as a partner quite clear. Still, the idea of just picking up a stranger from a club like Shachi and Penguin do is distasteful. STD concerns aside, the idea of being touched by a complete stranger is …urgh. He shudders. No, thank you. 

He has no idea how his parents did it, staying together after they met in med school. Being in the same program helped, he supposes. They didn't have to go too far out of their daily routine to spend time together. Something like that sounds nice, and also very much not in his immediate future! 

“I'm exhausted,” he tells them honestly, giving up on the book. “And a dark, noisy club filled with unwashed strangers actually might be my personal idea of hell. You should go, though.” 

“Ah, you're no fun!” Shachi whines.

“I never am, he agrees. “Eventually, you'll realize this.” 

Penguin bumps against him as he gathers his supplies into his bag. “Nah dude, we love you anyways. What're you up to tonight then? With your newfound freedom~”

He pretends to consider. “Maybe watching some tv?” 

“Oh!” Bepo pops up excitedly, handing him a highlighter that had escaped onto the floor. “Didn't the new season of Sora, Warrior of the Sea just come out?” 

He shrugs casually, as though he has not been fanatically avoiding the internet for the past three days since the new episodes dropped, for fear of spoilers. “Yeah, maybe.” 

“Oh shit!” Shachi laughs, while Penguin pulls out his phone to check. “Well, we know where your priorities lie then!” 

Law hesitates, guilt flickering through him. He hadn't actually been out with his friends in a while. He should …

Penguin smiles, flicking his arm as they all shuffle towards the door. “It's fine, you’re fine. We'll grab lunch later in the week or something?” Law nods, grateful for their understanding. 

“We still on for raid this week?” Shachi asks, checking his own phone. 

Law nods again. “No one's called out.” 

“Nice. Hey, Bepo, it says the club has a whole selection of special snacks for the DD.”

“Really?!”   

“Yeah! And fish-flavored chips!”

As the conversation drifts to discussion of the new club and its amenities, Law relaxes and lets himself settle into his own plans. He’s going to go home, order himself some deeply unhealthy dinner, and binge the new season. And nothing is going to get in his way

He should probably buy groceries, Cora thinks, squinting at his empty fridge. Well, not empty per se, but the eggs were bought long enough ago that they’re questionable, and the old pizza box he’s procrastinating throwing out isn’t providing any nutritional value. Shutting the fridge with a snap, he tips the half full box of cereal down from its spot on the top and pours it into the first clean bowl he finds. Using up the last of his milk, he pitches the carton into the recycling pile and settles in for dinner. Somewhere in the living room, Doffy-the-cat is scratching at one of the many toys his owner left scattered around Cora’s “pathetically barren” living room. It hadn’t taken the creature more than a few hours to grow bold enough to explore the whole space, the little bell on his collar jingling merrily as he wandered from room to room. The noise had been incredibly distracting for the first few hours, but is starting to approach the point where Cora doesn’t actively hear it unless he’s listening for it.

His phone dings and Cora automatically reaches for it.

It’s Doffy-the-human of course, because who else would it be, with yet another backseat babysitting reminder for the cat. “Don’t forget to feed him at 6 o’clock sharp!”

Cora’s eyes flick to the clock in the corner of the screen. 5:59. With a groan at the persistent pulse of pain in his lower back, he stands, locating the bright pink food bowl. “Doffy?” he calls to the cat, because his brother is a fucking narcissist. “Are you hungry?”

There’s no response.

Frowning, he glances over to the scratcher the cat was playing with a few minutes ago - now deserted. The cat bed, also empty. “Doffy?” Cora calls, anxiety starting to churn within him, “Cat? Where are youuuuu?” 

It had been a nice, peaceful day. He did some reading, took a few smoke breaks on the warm, sunny porch, and even did a little cleaning he’d been putting off! At the strange absence of his feline houseguest, he begins a systematic inspection of the apartment. Evidence of the cat is already everywhere in the form of long white hairs he finds all over the house, but unfortunately the culprit responsible for the mess is nowhere to be seen. The cat isn’t in the bedroom, bathroom, or closet, and by the time he gets back to the living room, a mild panic is setting in. He drags his hands through his hair in aggravation. Logically he knows there’s nowhere the cat could have gone, but if he’s actually managed to lose it already, his brother may kill him!

When he hears the jingle of a bell he turns with unmitigated relief, only for his blood to curdle in horror as he finally spots the missing cat - 

- walking out the patio door onto the balcony?! 

His heart drops. He must not have closed the door fully on his last smoke break, and Doffy is now sitting perilously close to the balcony ledge, above a four story drop to the street below!

Slowly, Cora edges towards the door, hands outstretched as though to talk the creature down. Doffy watches him approach, head tilted to the side. As Cora slides the glass door open, trying to be as quiet and unalarming as possible, Doffy twitches an ear and decides to stand, arching his back and stretching.

With an air of extreme indifference to Cora’s alarm, he then leaps up lightly onto the twisted metal railing.

Cora freezes, heart beating loudly in his ears. Doffy isn’t going to just kill him. If this cat falls off the balcony and dies in front of him, he can expect a painful and prologued period of torture before Doffy finally puts him out of his misery. Knowing his brother, he’ll probably at least make it look like an accident.

“Hey there little buddy,” he tries negotiating, “You don’t need to be up there. It’s dinner time! Why don’t you try coming back inside?” The jingling of the bell is his only response as the cat turns in place.

Cora inches forward with small, careful steps, fervently praying nothing startles the creature into falling or jumping or anything else that results in a splat on the ground below, and his immediate need to flee the country. He's one of two steps away from being able to grab the cat and toss it back into the house when Doffy turns his attention to the neighbor’s balcony, with the same blatant estimation he’d used an hour before to leap onto the top of the tv stand and bring a small figurine Cora had kept there crashing to the floor. Eyes widening at the realization of what’s about to happen, Cora reaches his hand futilely toward the cat, just as Doffy

Jumps!

“Doffy, NO!”

Doffy flies gracefully through the air, lands easily on the opposing railing, and hops down to his neighbor’s balcony. Cora gives his chest and breathing a moment to recover from his impromptu heart attack. Tail in the air, Doffy investigates this new space, before turning and taking a seat. The cat stares at him, sitting primly and comfortably on his neighbor’s balcony. He wraps his tail around his paws, and then delicately begins grooming one foot. 

Cora considers grimly. The gap isn't large for a human, maybe a foot of open air between the railings, but…it’s quite the fall if something goes wrong. If he slips, he's likely dead. Of course, if he can’t get the cat back, he's equally and probably more painfully dead, so.

Mentally, he slaps himself. C'mon man, we’ve faced worse than this. We took bullets in the North Blue.

Grimacing, he eases himself up onto the railing, wincing at each creak in the aging metal and trying to ignore the complaints from his joints. As long as he doesn’t look down, it should be fine.

He looks down, and immediately back up as a wave of vertigo rolls over him at the sight of someone walking their dog on the street far, far below him.

Eyes up, soldier. He chides himself. Keep your gaze where you want to land.

Urgh. Bracing himself, he maneuvers himself onto the other balcony, his long limbs easily clearing the gap. He clamors quickly over the side and onto the safety of the solid architecture. Heart racing, he leans against the railing for a moment to catch his breath. Doffy watches the entire feat of acrobatics with a distinct lack of appreciation from the far side of the porch. 

Okay. He’s on the other balcony. Alive and not a pancake. As is the cat. The good news is, the next balcony along is further out, and surely the cat isn't suicidal enough to just throw himself at nothing? Cats wouldn’t do that, right? There’s nowhere for the cat to go! So all he has to do now is tiptoe towards the cat…who watches him approach…

Then darts into their neighbor’s apartment through his patio door, which has also apparently been left ajar! 

Okay, this is fine. Everything is fine. The bell trills from inside the darkened apartment.

This is arguably safer than having the cat out on the porch - unless his neighbor has a dog or something poisonous or literally anything else harmful inside.

He doesn’t think there should be a dog?

He admittedly doesn't know much about his next door neighbor, beyond what he can’t avoid learning. Rent in the building is cheap and the walls of the complex are very thin - despite his best efforts it’s hard to stay completely out of each other's business. He’s seen the man only a few times, brief glimpses as they passed in the hall or picked up the mail. His neighbor is a dark haired young man, lean and eternally tired, which makes sense as the man seems to go to sleep around the hours Cora wakes to start his conditioning workout. At least, that’s the hour the shower runs every night.

Honestly, his neighbor is something of an ideal case - overall he’s pretty quiet, leaves early in the morning, goes to bed late, never gives him cause for a noise complaint. Rarely has anyone over either, as far as Cora can - very casually - tell. It’s not like he’s been stalking the man or anything, but noticing people’s habits is what Cora does, and he’s been casually trying to find an opportunity to have an actual conversation with the guy.

For neighborly reasons. It’s definitely not like he thinks the guy is cute.

A jingle draws him back to his current predicament. Peering into the unknown apartment, he is filled with regret for every life choice that brought him to this point, starting with being born as Doflamingo’s brother. As a blessing, it looks like no one is home, which is the best of the available options. It’ll be an extraction mission - he’s got plenty of practice in those. All he has to do is get in, get the cat, and get out with no one any the wiser! 

He slides the balcony door open enough to ease inside, and shuts it behind him. 

“Psssst,” he hisses into the darkness, “Doffy?”

An inquisitive mrow greets him, and he spots the cat lounging on the floor further into the apartment. He approaches slowly, carefully balancing his weight to move silently, and doing his utmost not to startle the cat. “Good,” he coos softly, hands outstretched, “now just…stay…PUT!!!” Lunging forward he grabs for the cat, but gets only an impression of fur against his fingertips as Doffy darts away. The merry jingle of the collar bell mocks him.

Cora takes a deep breath, stands back up, and looks around in time to see a fluffy white tail disappearing around the corner into the living room. He peeks around the living room corner to see that Doffy has paused in the center of the room, and abruptly flopped down into the carpet, wiggling around and purring. 

He’s sure his brother would find it “cute”. At the moment, he can only feel a simmering annoyance and his own mounting anxiety as he ventures further into his neighbor’s space. With all the focus of a stalking predator, he approaches while the beast is distracted, placing his weight carefully in an effort to be silent.

Doffy abruptly stills, looking back at him. And then up at the bookshelf.

“No,” Cora warns.

Rolling to his feet, Doffy gives an eager little butt-wriggle and assumes Pouncing Position.

“NO,” Cora says again, louder and makes a futile grab for the cat. Evading him, Doffy leaps and lands in a bare spot at the top of the bookshelf. Maintaining direct eye contact with Cora, Doffy’s paw reaches out, as though considering the precariously balanced stack of books next to him on the shelf.

“Please no?” Cora tries.

With careful deliberation, Doffy nudges them off the shelf and watches, delighted by the effects of gravity. They crash to the ground with a resounding thud that makes Cora wince, listening for a reaction from the apartment below. Thankfully, no broom knocks against the ceiling. 

When Doffy turns his attention to the next stack, Cora's temper frays. “Alright, get back here you little shit!” he growls, and Doffy jumps from the shelf onto the floor with a thump. The cat leads him on a merry chase around the apartment, up, down, across the furniture with a blatant disregard to anything sitting on it, while Cora scrambles after the creature. Following the cat who’s flouncing along the edge of the room, Cora’s foot tangles in a lamp cord, which proves to be both of their undoing.

Cora feels himself stumble and start to fall, while the cat looks up in confusion at his sudden peril. Desperately, he grabs for the creature and finally feels his fingers lock around Doffy’s ribs, in just enough time to loft the cat out of the way as he himself hits the floor, hard. Something twinges painfully in his knee, but he’s captured his prize and can’t bring himself to care.

Possibly the only thing worse than “I lost your cat” would be explaining to his brother “I squished your cat” but happily they’re both to be spared that fate.

“Gotcha,” Cora pants triumphantly, holding the wriggling cat at arms length. Doffy lets his protests be loudly and painfully known as he digs his claws into Cora’s arms, but Cora refuses to relinquish his grip. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he grumbles, “You can yell at me back in our own apartment, you criminal. Now let's get home before we get caught!” Which, fuck. How is he gonna get back? It occurs to him (belatedly) that he can't jump across while holding the protesting cat, and even if he could leave through the front door, he left his own apartment keys on his dining room table.

…Fuck. Well, he needs to do something, because the absolute worst option would be being found here, like some sort of delinquent breaking in. Especially after last week’s lockpicking incident.

Inevitably, it’s at this moment the building elevator dings on their floor. He freezes, listening to the footsteps in the hall. Please, he prays silently, pass by. Belong to the nice old man at the end of the hall, or the annoying girl across from him. Anyone else.

The footsteps stop, and the key scrapes in the lock. 

He has time to think Fuck.

Then the door swings open, the light clicks on, and Cora dies of humiliation as he stares into the face of his next door neighbor coming home. 

Law blinks, hard, in the hopes it will clear up what he's seeing. Regrettably, it does not. There's a strange, disheveled man standing in the middle of his mess of a living room. His blond hair is a mess and he appears to be breathing erratically. He’s also holding a large white cat. 

Law’s staring progresses to glaring at the realization he may have to deal with a home intruder before he gets to change into his sweatpants. Also, why is there a cat? He certainly doesn’t have a cat.

“Okay, so um, I can explain!” The man starts optimistically, then abruptly stops. 

Law continues glaring, allowing his ‘resting bitch face’ (as Penguin calls it) to do his communication for him. This is probably what he gets for getting an apartment on the cheap side of town instead of taking his friends up on their offer of being a roommate, but sue him. He likes his privacy. And he's been happy with his place so far - the outlets are wired poorly, but you get what you pay for, and he’s got a roof above his head.

“My patio door was cracked, and yours was also cracked, and my cat, well not my cat, my brother's cat? I'm looking after him for the month, jumped over here and-”

Law squints. Neighbors. Yeah, that is where he's seen this guy before. He was half asleep at the time after a long tutoring shift, but he's pretty sure he saw this guy locked out of his apartment last week. Yeah! Because he’d given a long explanation of how he was breaking ‘back in’ with a lockpick and Law had rapidly decided after an instant of intense curiosity that it was none of his business, and gone the hell home. Well that’s less concerning, mostly. He holds a hand up, and the rambling saga of how there came to be a cat in the apartment comes to a halt. “I don't care,” he says, because truly at this point in the day, he does not. Every moment he has to deal with this is a moment he is not falling face-first onto his couch. “Get out.” 

Miserably, the guy shuffles over, and as he gets closer Law realizes he’s actually uh, tall. Really tall, actually. Huh. Has a pretty good facial structure too, under the mop of bangs.

Down boy. 

The man is talking again. 

“Um, so. Sorry about this, and I swear I'm trying to get out of your hair as fast as I can, but…can you watch the cat for a second? I need to get back over to my place, and then I can come and grab him?” The guy gestures at the small apartment balcony.

Law stares. If this is the easiest way to get the guy to leave, sure. He nods. This might as well happen.

The wriggling cat is dropped onto the kitchen table, immediately beginning to groom itself with an air of deep offense. Bemused, Law watches the blond carefully close Law’s patio door behind him and disappear out of view. He's spared from wondering if the poor bastard fell to his death as he hears the patio sliding open in the adjacent apartment, and tracks the other man's way through the room. 

The cat's ears have also perked up, and it glances to the shared wall, before focusing its attention on Law. “Mrow?” the cat asks.

“We’re not friends,” he informs the cat sternly. “You broke into my apartment.”

It chirps at him, and steps up to the edge of the table, tail waving back and forth. It is, he will privately admit, a little cute.

Relenting, he offers it a knuckle to sniff, not expecting the immediate headbump that follows. He’s fully unprepared when the creature shifts its weight, then leaps up onto his shoulder. Law freezes at the tiny pinpricks of claws he can feel through his shirt, as the creature balances on him like he’s a piece of furniture.  

There comes the expected knock at the door.

He attempts to shift the cat off him, but claws dig into his skin threateningly, as the cat leans more heavily against his ear, purring loudly. Against his ear, the cat’s body is soft and warm. Giving up, he trudges awkwardly over to his own front door, and uses his left hand to open it while the other tries to brace the cat against falling. 

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. Unable to properly look up due to the weight on his neck, he’s stuck staring at the way the fitted button-up clings to his neighbor’s chest, and the strain the middle button seems to be under. Cheeks warm, Law clears his throat. “Your cat jumped on me?”

“Ah, yeah, I’ll get him off, hang on-”

Blond Guy leans closer, practically on top of Law as he clumsily tries to wrap his arms under the cat, backing off when those same claws dig into Law’s shoulder, causing him to hiss. Changing positions, Blondie tries to ease the claws out of Law’s skin and lift the cat off him. Law is left to stand there, trying not to startle the cat, as the taller man gawkily maneuvers around him for what feels like far longer than it could realistically have been. His face is practically pressed to the man’s chest at one point, and he can’t help but inhale, getting a scent of cigarette smoke, laundry detergent, and what he can only assume is the man’s natural musk, the cotton shirt slightly damp where it slides against his cheek.

Finally the weight eases off his neck sans pain, and Law can raise his head. He chooses not to, aware at this point that his cheeks are flaming red. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” he tells the floor, hearing his friends’ ghostly laughter ringing in his ears. “Good luck with your cat.”

“Yeah, thank you for -”

Law cuts off the man’s surprisingly deep voice by shooing him out and closing the door. He waits until he hears the steps retreating and the next apartment door opening and closing before he puts his back against his own front door and slides down it, eyes wide and mind racing.

Sora is suddenly the last thing on his mind.

In the next door apartment, Cora cradles his head in his hands. His misery and humiliation are set to the backdrop of wet chewing as Doffy-the-cat happily digs into his evening meal, unrepentant of the trouble he’d caused. Cora is definitely never going to be able to look his neighbor in the eyes again - which is a shame, because up close he'd been very pretty to look at. Up close, he’d also noticed some intriguing lines of ink, disappearing under the collar of Law’s shirt, which will forever remain a mystery now, due to his brother and his bastard cat. He debates texting his brother an accusation of his cat ruining his relationship with his neighbor, but then he’d have to explain the peril Doffy’s precious baby had been in, which - nope. His survival instincts are better than that.

It does mean he has no one to share this agony with, and he’s forced to endure it alone.

By the morning, everything seems slightly more manageable. The sharp burn of embarrassment that had flavored the rest of the evening prior has faded into something painful but livable. Doffy-the-cat, apparently tired out by his adventure, had curled up on the couch and slept while Cora flickered through trash tv until it was a reasonable time to turn in.

He’s still contemplating the insanity of the day prior when he hears a crash coming from his living room accompanied by the sound of something breaking, and mentally counts down the days until his brother returns for his errant spawn. Then, because he likes the few belongings he’s acquired over the years, and would like for them to stay in one piece as much as possible, he forces himself out of bed.

Doffy is sitting in the middle of a pile of pottery shards, tail swishing over the mess. Lovely. It had been a jar Cora had picked up in his time overseas - not particularly expensive, but a fond memory of the area he’d kept.

Had being the operative word. It’s fine. This is fine.

Grumpily, Cora reaches over and gently picks the cat up, examining him thoroughly to ensure there aren’t any sharp chips stuck in his fur. Despite it being for the creature’s own well being, this perceived mistreatment is met with scratching and wriggling and meowing, until Cora decides the cat is probably well enough and releases the beast. Grumbling, he fetches his dustpan.

As it turns out, he’ll need the dustpan frequently throughout the day. Doffy-the-cat spends the next five hours absolutely terrorizing his apartment, and by the end of it Cora has gathered all of his remaining possessions he’d prefer not to see savaged and locked them in the closet to remain until his catsitting duty has ended. Casualties of the day include two plates, his favorite mug, his curtains, three shirts, a pair of socks, and the tablet that Doffy-his-brother had bought him for his birthday. The last had given Cora a scare, because when he looked over, it wasn’t enough to simply crack the screen, Doffy had been chewing on the charging cord, clearly trying to electrocute himself and end them both!

At this point, Cora is having a western style showdown with the beast as they face each other across his much more barren living room. The stress has him itching for a smoke, but after yesterday he knows better than to open the patio door, come hell or high water. 

“I’m not stuck in here with you. You’re stuck in here with me,” he tells the cat. They both know by this point this is simply not true.

Maybe the cat just has too much energy, and wants to play? Picking up one of the toy mice his brother had left, Cora wiggles it in the air until Doffy is watching it, then flings it across the room. Doffy watches it fly past with mild interest, then returns to looking at Cora expectantly.

“I mean, I’m not going to fetch it,” he argues. “That’s definitely not how this game is played.”

Losing interest, Doffy’s attention fixates on the arm of his couch.

“No!” Cora warns, moving to place the provided scratching post between the creature and his couch. He watches with a sort of numb disbelief as Doffy-the-cat rubs his face against the scratching post, meanders to the side of it, and digs his claws into the couch anyway, ripping at it gleefully. Giving his apartment up for lost and fully intending to lean on his brother for at least the furniture replacements, he grabs his smokes from the counter and heads toward the front door. 

He’s no sooner got it open than Doffy darts past the foot he’d put to block the cat from getting out, dashing into the hallway beyond. “Oi” he yells, scrambling forward and tripping over himself in his haste. It’s at least a closed hallway here, so he should be good - as long as no one uses the elevator or opens the door to the stairs, or their own apartment doors since apparently Doffy likes invading other people’s homes! Dragging himself up from the floor, he looks down the hallway to see where the miscreant has gotten to, brought up short by the sound of…purring?

With horror Cora realizes he’s not alone in the hallway. And because his life is just like that, the other person would of course be his next door neighbor, grocery bags dangling off his arm. Doffy is currently winding around the man’s ankles, purring up a storm. 

“Hello again,” his neighbor says, with something suspiciously like a smile. Probably laughing at Cora, sprawled in the hallway. “I need to put these away, but-” he says, gesturing with the bags on his arm. “- would you like to come over?”

Law puts the rest of the fresh food into the fridge, and closes the door with a click. His human guest is seated at his dining table, fingers twisting together awkwardly as he compliments the cleanliness of the room, which Law had straightened after yesterday's incident. Law has not yet put him at ease, focusing first on his groceries, and only then on turning his attention to hosting.

The invitation had been spurious, a combination of calculating the time it would take to get the cat untangled and listen to the story behind it, and the awareness that his ice cream was likely to melt if he had to remain in the hallway for the entirety of this. There was also, perhaps, the desire to see the blond again, and maybe even manage to get his name this time! Despite his friends’ frequent complaints, Law wasn’t entirely hopeless in the ways of the world, just generally disinterested.

Disinterest had not been what he’d been feeling yesterday, though. Or last night. He’d struggled, actually, to get the encounter out of his head, as sudden and, quite frankly, bizarre as it had been. In turn, this had led to an unusual amount of curiosity about the blond. So when life had delivered his neighbor (and the cat?) straight back into his life, Law chose to see it as a sign.

His feline guest hops up on the kitchen counter, begging for pets. “Down,” he tells the cat sternly, and the cat changes tactics, leaping down to headbutt his ankle hopefully. He rewards this with a scritch to the ear. Strangled noises emerge from the table.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks his human guest, rifling through his cabinets.

“Oh, uh, coffee? With, um, sugar and milk please?”

Setting a new pot of coffee to percolate, Law busies himself tidying his kitchen in minute ways, while sneaking glances towards the man sitting at his table. He really is almost comically tall, long, jean-clad legs emerging from beneath the furniture. Today is another button up, and Law almost feels self conscious of the old and ratty off-day band shirt he donned for errands. He attempts to unobtrusively run a hand through his hair.

When the coffee finishes, he slides the prepared drink over to the man, settling in across from him with his own mug. He watches in real time as the man brings the mug to his lips, seems to simultaneously manage to choke and burn his tongue, and turns away to deal with the resulting coughing fit. A sense of mild wonder settles over Law at his neighbor’s gracelessness. It doesn’t seem possible that such a man is real, he thinks, watching the man thump his chest with a closed fist and blink back watering eyes.

“Should we start with introductions?” he asks, instead of voicing that thought aloud. 

Apparently finished with his coughing fit, his neighbor turns back to him, and smiles brightly.

Oh, whispers Law’s heart at the transformation this brings to the blond’s face. He nearly misses what the man actually says.

“-sinante Donquixote, but most folks just call me Cora, these days.”

“Trafalgar Law,” he returns, extending his hand to shake. As the other man’s hand absolutely envelops his own, he tries to keep his thoughts pure. “Where does Cora come from?”

‘Cora’ shrugs ruefully. “Nickname from my military days. Did some time in the Marines but, uh. Retired now for medical stuff.”

Now that he’s looking, Law can see the edges of scars peeking out from the neckline and cuffs of the long sleeve shirt he’s got on. He catches himself wondering what else might be hidden under the fabric and tucks that thought away for later. Don’t be a freak, Trafalgar, he warns himself. You’ve only just met the man.

“What about you?” Cora asks. “What do you do?”

“Med school. I’m training to become a surgeon.”

“Oh! That’s really cool! I wouldn’t have guessed, with the uh-” he falters, clearly not trying to be rude.

Law grins. “Tattoos and piercings? Yeah, they’re not exactly standard issue. But, I like ‘em.”

“I like them too!” Cora blurts, blushing endearingly. “That is to say, they look good. On you, specifically! Ah…I mean…” He scrunches his face up, and mutters “Ignore me, that was, um-”

Law chuckles, oddly endeared by the man’s rambling. It’s certainly not the normal reaction folks have to his body modifications. Further conversation is disrupted when his other houseguest takes the opportunity to jump up on the table, flopping down in front of Law and rolling onto his back.

“Hello there,” he murmurs, petting the soft belly fur presented to him. “We haven’t been properly introduced either.”

Cora’s gaze flickers between him and the cat. “That is Doffy, my brother’s cat. Who seems to really like you? Or really hate me, I’m not sure. This is the calmest I’ve ever seen him.”

Doffy-the-brother’s-cat squirms, taking Law’s hand between his paws and beginning to groom Law’s knuckle. Law shrugs. “Seems like a good cat? You said he’s giving you trouble though?”  Recalling the mess in his apartment the previous day, he supposes the cat must have a devious side.

“He…yeah.” Cora sips his now-cooler drink. “I’m babysitting him on behalf of my brother right now. Who is, uh, also named Doffy.”

“So the cat’s name is Doffy?” Law eyes the heart shaped tag on the collar, declaring this to be so.

The man across from him sighs. “Yeah.”  

“And…your brother’s name is also Doffy?” he clarifies.

“Yeah.” 

“Huh,” Law sips his coffee as he considers this. “Is the cat at least Doffy Junior…?”

His neighbor fixes him with an unhappy look. “No, because that’s what my brother calls his dick.”

Law considers this information, and the sort of individual it would belong to. “I see. And how did you learn this?”

“Unwillingly.”

“Huh.”

The pained expression on Cora’s face breaks Law’s resolve and he snickers, which causes Cora to grin, before devolving into full out laughter from both of them. Eventually reining himself in, Cora straightens, clasping his empty mug. “I’m sorry, I should let you get back to your day,” he says. “This was really nice though, I’m glad we…met.”

Law can’t help the smile on his face. “Me too.” As Cora rises from the table, he’s struck with a wish for the man to stay. Which is strange. He doesn’t like people in his space, but somehow the idea of a wall between them suddenly seems terrible. “If you need any help catsitting,” he offers, before he can even consider what’s coming out of his mouth, “feel free to bring Doffy by.”

Cora attempts to gather the docile cat unresisting into his arms, but as soon as he picks him up, Doffy immediately begins to struggle. “I wouldn’t want to impose-” the blond says, leaning back as Doffy swings a claw towards his face. 

“Stop that.” Law orders, and the cat settles, ears dropping sadly. To Cora he adds, “Well, I’m here. Whatever you want to do.”

He fails to keep his eyes averted as his neighbor leaves, admiring the man’s legs on the way out. The door clicks shut, echoing into an apartment that feels much emptier than it had before.

Oh, Law thinks, hearing Cora settle back into his own place, I am so, so fucked.

Cora makes it two days before he’s standing in front of the apartment door, Doffy under one arm, apology coffee in the other hand. Law has barely opened it before he’s thrusting his arm forward with its offering of caffeine. “I wanted to say sorry. About the other day.”  

Under his arm Doffy had been struggling, but at the sight of Law, the cat relaxes and begins to purr, withdrawing his claws from Cora’s arms and wriggling to get closer to the shorter man. “You said you wouldn’t mind helping,” Cora stutters, feeling siller by the moment. Of course his neighbor hadn’t meant it. It was just a polite formality!

Law holds out his arms and takes the cat. “Come in,” he says, yawning.

Closing the door behind Cora, Law sets Doffy down on the floor, at which point Doffy happily begins to rub his head against the corner of Law’s shoe rack. Cora sighs in relief. “Sorry,” he mutters in embarrassment, “it's been a rough morning.”

Law doesn’t respond at first, and when he looks over he finds Law’s attention caught on his forearms, which are a mess of new cuts from this morning, when Doffy decided he wanted to use them as a replacement scratching post. Abruptly Law turns away, digging under his sink and producing a first aid kit, which he sets down on the counter.

“What’s that for?” he asks, eyeing it warily.

Law’s hand reaches for him, locking around his wrist with surprising strength, and pulling his arm closer. “Let me patch you up.”

“Oh,” Cora laughs, “it's fine, you don't need to-”

“You’d prefer to drip blood all over my apartment?” 

Well, when put like that. Reluctantly, Cora lets himself be directed to a chair, breathing in deeply as Law settles across from him. Images flash in his mind, of sterile environments and scrubs and he blinks, trying to clear them away. Despite his neighbor’s stern tone, Law’s hands are gentle as he investigates each of the fresh wounds. The pain is negligible compared to his baseline, but Law meticulously cleans and bandages each of the scratches one by one, before moving to his other arm. 

Cora can’t help but watch his fingers. Long and elegant, Law moves through each cut so gracefully it’s enthralling. When Law finishes the last scratch Cora intends to pull back, but Law doesn't let go. He traces his thumb over a much older scar. 

“You babysit angry cats a lot?” he asks. 

Cora shakes his head. “Just clumsy.”

Law smiles up at him, hand still on his arm and his traitorous heart takes a tumble. maybe? he thinks. Maybe that’s interest? He used to be better at spotting that sort of thing, but it's been years, and he's out of practice and his body is, well. He’s lost a lot of the muscle mass he used to have, and most of the time cooking for himself feels far too difficult, so his diet has been garbage lately. He’s hardly a picture of health or attraction for people to be interested in! Law is probably just being nice, in the way of doctors to their patients.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asks, hoping to drag the subject away from Law’s current scrutiny of his scars. 

Law nods towards the book on his couch arm. It’s very thick and has an intimidatingly medical sounding title. “Just doing some reading. You?” 

Cora sighs, and looks around for his personal demon. The cat is still in the entryway, now having stuck his face wholly inside one of Law’s shoes. Sure. Why not. “Just surviving the day,” he admits.

“Long morning?” Law asks

Cora nods, exhaustion seeping back in. “This little shit started attacking me at three am and then tried to strangle himself in the blinds at five. He hasn't let up since.” He runs a hand across his eyes. “I'm beat. If he calms down enough over here, I was gonna take him back and try to get a nap in.” 

“Nap here.” Law offers, eyes locked on his with a strange intensity. 

“Huh?” 

Law clears his throat, looking away. “Doffy seems happy here. I've got a couch. It’s pretty comfortable.”

“If you're being polite, I'm too tired to argue you down,” he warns. 

“I'm not.” Snapping the first aid kit closed, he gestures for Cora to follow him into the living room. Snagging his book from the arm of the couch, Law settles in at one end of the sectional. “Plenty of space,” he says, indicating the vast amount of couch still free. 

Glancing once more over at Doffy, now apparently done huffing Law’s shoe and curled up on top of the footware in question, Cora eases down onto the couch, sinking into the leather with relief. He barely closes his eyes for a moment, and then he's out. 

“-and if I were you, I simply would not stand in the fucking bad-”

Law brings a thumb up to rub at the crease forming between his eyebrows and clicks his headset to unmute. “Okay, everyone take five. We’ll try to do a couple more pulls tonight, and if we don’t get any further we’ll call it for today.”

“Aye-aye, captain!”

Pushing his chair away from his computer desk, Law stretches. The raid team had been doing well earlier in the evening and made some solid progress toward learning their current fight, but at this point in the night the team is rapidly losing their focus, and Shachi and Penguin have resorted to finding new and inventive ways to kill each other each pull.

He’d been a bit uncertain what to do as raid time drew near and Cora was still asleep on his couch, but to his relief the man didn’t seem to be affected at all. He must really have needed the sleep, remaining passed out deeply all afternoon and into the early evening. Even now, Law spins his chair around to see Cora still sprawled out on Law’s couch, head pillowed on one arm, and shirt riding up just enough to expose a strip of pale stomach. Law’s eyes linger on the golden hair visible in that small window with interest. It isn’t until there’s a soft throat clearing that he realizes red eyes are now awake and looking at him, and he’s been caught.

Not terribly repentant, he chuckles softly. “You’re finally awake.”  

“Getting there.” Cora smiles, readjusting his weight where he’s laying. “Sorry, did I overstay?”

Law smiles. “Nah, we’re just finishing up. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes”

“Sure.” Cora gives him a sleepy salute, snuggling back down against the cushions.

He gets up to actually grab a glass of water, and then eases back into his chair. It’s the absolute silence over the line that gives him the first clue something is wrong. Instinctively he reaches up to check his mic, which has been unmuted. Fuck. 

“‘Finally awake’ hm? You got someone sleeping over?” Shachi asks sweetly, “Who is it?”

“Was that Law’s flirting voice?” Ikkaku pitches in.

“It was.” Hakugan agrees. 

“It definitely was.” Penguin simultaneously confirms. 

“Shut up,” Law snaps. “It was not.”

“Oh my god, Law do you have a boy over right now?” Ikkaku presses.

“It's my neighbor,” he growls, painfully aware that his side of the conversation is being overheard. “I’m helping him with something.”

“Mmm. And you're making flirty voice at your neighbor?” Shachi inquires.

“Yeah, something-”

“Wait, get him to come say hi!”  

“I will not.” Law flatly refuses.

“Am I causing a problem?” Cora asks, as Law attempts to wrangle his teammates.

Taking care to mute this time, Law responds. “No, sorry, my friends are being stupid. They want you to say hello.”

To his surprise, Cora levers himself up off the couch and stumbles over, eyes still hazy with waking. He leans over, face suddenly very close as he brings his mouth to Law's microphone. “Hello Law's friends,” Cora rumbles.

There’s a moment of silence and then Law winces, pulling the headset away from his ears as the volume spikes, everyone shouting at once.

“Oh my god?!”

“What is that voice? It’s so deep!”

“Law what the fuck? Why are you holding out on us man?” 

“We're either doing a pull or I'm logging off!” Law warns. 

“Wait, is this why you wouldn't come out Friday night?” Shachi whines, “You already had someone at home?” 

“No. I told you, I had plans.” 

“To watch the new season of Sora!” Bepo chirps helpfully.

“Oh right. How was the new season of Sora?” Uni asks.

With all the distractions, he hadn't actually been in the right mental state to sit down and watch the new season, but his friends didn't need to know that. “It was good.” 

This is met with dead silence.

“Good?”

“Just good?”

“Lol what?”

“Last season we got an hour long PowerPoint about the differences in the adaptation vs the books-”

Law rolls his eyes. “It was good. It was fine!”

“What did you think about episode six, Law?”

“I’m going to log off now!” Law retreats from further questioning, escaping with whatever dignity and plausible deniability remains to him. He follows through on his threat, disconnecting and setting his headset down on his desk. Cora is watching him curiously, having retreated back to the couch. There’s a large red mark on his face, from a crease in the couch he was sleeping on.

“Everything ok?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Law stands and stretches. “My friends were being dumbasses.”

“Did you meet them online?” Cora gestures toward the computer, as Law settles onto the couch next to him. 

“Nah. Most of them are local. Some have moved away. We play together as a good way to stay in touch.”

“Oh,” Cora nods. “That must be nice.” 

There’s a wistful note to his voice that spikes Law’s curiosity. “How about you? What do you do with your friends?”

“Oh I…don't have too many people anymore. Moved here last year. Was in a coma for a while after my service and then uh, had to focus on medical stuff for a bit. The folks I knew kinda moved on, or uh, aren't around anymore.” He gives a self deprecating smile, and Law has the impression he’s only getting the most surface level description of things. “My brother's been saying I need to get out of the apartment more. He's probably right.” His eyes drift a bit, sifting through sights invisible to Law.

Law swallows, remembering a time when he, too, hadn't had anyone but his family left.

“My friends,” he offers, then pauses, thinking it through. Would they like Cora? Would Cora like them? They’ll be absolutely insufferable if he does introduce them.

He likes Cora though, he’s coming to realize. And he thinks it would be worth whatever teasing he’d have to endure, to have Cora by his side more.

He clears his throat, and tries again. “My friends are swinging by tomorrow for lunch. Would you want to meet them?” 

Cora seems just as surprised by the offer as he was to find himself making it. “Oh, you don’t want that. I’m old, and tired, and not much fun to be around these days.” And he smiles at Law, but Cora has two smiles, Law is coming to realize. And one of them - this one - isn’t real.

“I like having you around,” Law counters. He lets the statement sit, and he watches as Cora opens his mouth as though to say something, and then shuts it, several times.

“Come to lunch,” Law presses. “They’re annoying as fuck but they’re good people.”

His gaze drifts down to where Cora is toying with the hem of his shirt, practically twisting it into a knot. “Are you sure?” he asks, hesitantly.

The hesitation only makes Law more sure that this is a correct choice. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Cora seems surprised. Shyly, a smile creeps across his face. “Okay. Then, yeah.”

“Okay. Cool. And…” Law hesitates. This next one is even more personal. “Do you wanna watch a show with me? There’s a new season out, and I’ve been meaning to see it.”

Cora nods solemnly. “I would. I’d like that a lot.”

And if, during the course of the first three episodes of Sora, Law manages to inch close enough on the couch that his arm is pressed up against Cora’s side, none of his friends need to know about that.

The next day, he hears Law’s friends arrive: bright joyful noises beyond the normally quiet wall. It takes him an extra few minutes to work his way out the door, and across the few feet separating the apartments. Hesitantly, he knocks.

The noises don’t pause, but the door swings open, and Law is smiling up at him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Cora greets back.

“Oooooh, so this is the mysterious Cora, hmmm?”

“Damn Law, what the hell dude.”

“It’s nice to meet you!”

He tries to take in as much as he can about the three in front of him. Two of the men are tall and lanky, with matching baseball caps slung low over their eyes, leaving an impression of shadow under the brim. One seems a bit reserved, tentative smile in place. The other, red hair spilling from under the cap, is almost aggressively casual in his body language. The third man is much shorter and softer in profile, with hair as white as Doffy-the-cat. He’s beaming excitedly in Cora’s direction.  

Law coughs. “These are my friends,” he says awkwardly. “Cora,” he gestures, “Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo.”

Cora makes himself wave. “Hello!” he says, as cheerily as he can.

The redhead - Shachi -  tosses something his way, and he fumbles to catch it, nearly overbalancing in the process. Law’s hand darts out to steady him, and he looks down at the object in his hands. It’s a brown paper bag from a local sandwich shop. He forces himself to smile at their thoughtfulness.

“Pull up a chair, man!”

The rest of them are arrayed on the couch, with Bepo sitting on the floor facing them. Penguin shifts down to join Bepo, and Cora delicately perches on the arm of the couch nearest to Law, and begins to unwrap the sub. 

“So you're all medical students?” he exclaims. “You all must be very smart!” 

“You'd think that, wouldn't you?” Law mutters.

“Oi! Mr. High-and-Mighty from the surgery track over there!”

This personal attack seems to be the signal for all of Law’s friends to start teasing and cajoling each other. Cora smiles, shrinking against the couch and trying to keep up with the rapid and very specific insults being thrown around the room. Most of the conversation he struggles to follow, reminiscing over the semester that just ended for all of them, classes and coursework he's unfamiliar with, long Latin names he struggles to parse. He gathers that Penguin and Shachi are studying to be ER doctors, and Bepo is going into Nursing, several years their junior. Law is apparently specializing in heart surgery.

He tries to keep his face placid, but mentally he screams. What is he doing here? He, who dropped out of college to join up? It's not like he has anything in common with this group, or even anything entertaining to contribute to the conversation! They have their lives ahead of them, and bright futures at that! He smiles as they talk, and discreetly picks the sandwich apart, eating the fillings one by one. 

“Oh, can you not do bread either, Cora?” 

Cora freezes, caught with a single piece of lettuce halfway to his mouth. Feeling ridiculous, he sets it down to explain. “I’m not allergic, but…I don't like it? When I was a kid, it once made me really sick.” 

“Shit, sorry dude, I didn't realize. We'll pick you up something else next time.” 

Next time? They want to do this again?

“Law used to do the same thing you know. Took us ages to figure out what his deal was, we just thought he was being a picky little bitch.” 

“Oh?” Cora asks, glancing over at Law. Who, he now realizes, is the only one without a sandwich in front of him, and instead has been nibbling from a paper cup of soup.

Law holds out the half cup of soup. “Swap me.”

Now it’s embarrassing and he’s made a whole thing of it! “No, I'm fine, I-” 

“Swap.” Law sets the soup down in front of him, stealing his plate away. Hesitantly, he raises the plastic spoon to his lips, deeply aware of it most recently having been in Law's mouth. 

“Good?” Law asks, pushing the sandwich further away.

“...Yeah,” he agrees quietly, fighting down a blush, especially as he realizes the rest of the room has fallen silent, watching their interaction with varying degrees of interest. 

“So!” Bepo asks loudly, “what do you do for fun Cora?” 

Fun? Oh, what does he do? He struggles to think back to the days when his life didn’t involve being mauled by an angry cat every few minutes. “I read?” he stutters. 

“Nice, have you read-”  

The rest of the lunch isn't as bad as he feared, though he does excuse himself when they drift around to medical talk again. Retreating to his apartment, he takes a minute to just breathe in the quiet, empty space he's used to. 

“Seems like a nice guy.” Penguin’s voice floats through the wall, slightly muffled.

Well, his mostly quiet space. He pauses, suddenly aware of the conversation he can still hear through the wall. He knows he shouldn't listen. It would be an invasion of Law’s privacy. 

“Also very tall!” 

“Yeah holy shit, he's huge!” 

Guilty, he presses his ear against the wall. 

Law rolls his eyes, as Shachi continues. Already, he misses Cora’s presence at his side. Though admittedly, it’s probably best if he’s not around for this part of the conversation.

“Duuude, what are you doing?” 

Law sighs, gathering up the lunch trash. “We go back to school in the fall. I sleep with a textbook under my pillow for nine months or of the year. I'm sure he's not interested in whatever sort of life that would be.”

Penguin shakes his head rapidly. “Oh he's interested, dude.”

Law continues gathering trash, refusing to humor them. “Look, none of us make good dates, all right? You two have your hookups, Bepo-”

“Doesn't have to deal with any of this,” the resident asexual says primly.

“Boooo!” Shachi throws a wadded up wrapper at him, initiating a small scuffle on his floor. Law steps over them, heading for the kitchen trash.

“Not all of us can be so lucky.” Penguin comments, keeping out of the striking range of flailing limbs.

“And I-” Law continues.  

“Fall in love with people and pine from a distance, yes, we know.” Penguin agrees, demonstrating his ability to be just as precise with his words as his scalpel.  

Law stutters at this sudden attack. “I don't!” he objects.

“That short bouncy kid from freshman year? The one none of us were actually sure was attending class?” 

“Oh yeah,” Shachi agrees, having emerged victorious, with Bepo pinned under his elbow. “Still see him around campus sometimes-” 

“I do not pine,” Law says sharply. “You're making me sound like a Victorian maiden!” 

“So ask this dude out. What can go wrong?” 

“Everything?” Law slams the lid of the trash can down. “What if it's awful and we break up and then we're living right next to each other and I have to find a new apartment in the middle of the semester?” 

Shachi gives him a long look, standing to bring his own trash over. “And what if it's not?” he asks. “What if it's good?” 

Law has no response to that. 

Gently, Penguin continues where his other half left off. “What if it's good and you miss the chance to try, because you're scared.” 

“I'm not scared,” Law snaps, crossing his arms. 

“Then you should ask him out!” Bepo chimes in from the floor. “There’s the fancy restaurant over on 5th you like, you could go there!”

Law glares at his friends, out of patience with their prying. “New topic,” he demands. 

Penguin shrugs, acquiescing. “There's this new girl working at the coffee shop in the art building-” 

Cora stares at the wall in front of him, before slowly sinking onto his couch. Shredding sounds emerge from somewhere behind him, but he doesn’t even turn around to check.

Cora fidgets nervously, adjusting the lapels of his dinner jacket. Around him floats the ambiance of a high class restaurant; the clinking of glasses, the low susurration of discreet conversation. Across from him in the booth sits Law, looking as perfect as always. The younger man watches him with a coy smile under those hawk-yellow eyes, clever and sharp enough that he’s almost certainly already caught Cora’s trembling hands. The small box in his pocket is disproportionately heavy for its size. Small and black, with a velvet sheen and silk interior, he feels like instead it’s a disco ball with wailing sirens he holds, as he draws it forth and sets it between them on the table.

“Law,” he begins. “I-”

Screams erupt as a massive, white-furred leg crashes through the ceiling, debris raining down and clouds of plaster and smoke rising as chaos erupts. Grabbing for Law, he drags him under the table and frantically searches the room, trying to secure a route to safety, golden ring above abandoned and forgotten. A deep and distorted yowl resounds through the space, and he feels the tickle of a stream of blood, leaking from his ears at the pitch. Beside him, Law looks terrified and strangely young in his vulnerability. “What do we do?” he yells. “They’ve found us, and you’re hurt!”

"Gonna get you out of here," he soothes. "Don't you worry, bud."

A second leg crashes through the ceiling, and the left side of the building begins to crumble. He grabs Law, throwing him over his shoulder and beginning to sprint. Pain flares in his chest, his legs, but he’s not focused on it right now. Right now they’re under attack and he needs to flee, until he can stash his precious cargo somewhere safe. He barely reaches the arch of the entry door before the roof collapses behind him, and once he makes it onto the street has an instant to turn around and regard his enemy.

The Doffy-Beast towers above the ruined building, sirens wailing and fires providing a flickering backlight to his majesty. One swipe of his gigantic tail takes out a nearby office complex, but his eyes are tracking Cora with a laser focus behind pink rimmed shades. Shifting his weight back, he prepares for a pounce, and Cora turns to run, knowing it’s too late!

There’s the impression of pressure and pain and darkness-

And then Cora wakes up, panting, in his bed. His alarm clock reads 3:42 am.

He cradles his head in his hands, face wet with tears. “Oh Nika, what the actual fuck?!” 

It’s probably not fair to blame the cat for his dreams, Cora thinks, nursing his coffee and staring out over his living room, sleep deprived. It’s already been an energetic morning of further destroying the side of his couch, followed by attempting to eat his lone remaining pillow. Is seven am too early to ask for help? It’s probably too early to ask for help, he doesn’t want to seem desperate.

He is though. Very, very desperate.

He at least waits until he hears movement next door, giving it another 30 minutes to be safe, and then gently knocks against their connected living room wall.

Movement in the other apartment stops, and Cora curses himself for the impulse. Why would he even-

Law knocks back, a short staccato against the wall.

“Come over,” he says, loud enough to be heard through the barrier. 

Bundle of fur in his arms, Cora does.

The widescreen tv provides the only light in the otherwise darkened apartment, flickering over the figures huddled together on the couch. Sora has been taken hostage by nefarious pirates, and Law is barely paying attention, waging a war of attrition to get Cora to relax. Now, halfway through the season, he’s succeeded enough that they’re both sharing a blanket, and Cora’s arm is loosely draped over the back of the couch, allowing Law to lean against his warm, broad frame. Neither of them has acknowledged their position yet, but Cora hasn’t pulled away either. 

They're finishing episode twelve when there's an unexpected knock at the door. Law detangles himself from the blanket pile they’d been under with a mental curse, and Cora takes the opportunity to rise and stretch, before heading towards the bathroom. He takes an appreciative moment to watch the other man walk away, before padding over to the door and pulling it open irritably. Gods help whatever marketer or salesman felt the need to interrupt his afternoon.

His mother, father, and sister stand before him, Lammy beaming up at him. His eyes widen. 

“Hi,” he stutters, as they flood past him into the apartment with the casual ease of many visits. “I wasn't aware you were dropping by today?” 

“That's because you didn't check your phone, dear,” his mother informs him.

It's true, he's had it silenced all morning while marathoning the new season with Cora. Picking it up, he sees notifications from both his mother and sister informing him of their intent. 

“We were in the area and it's been a bit,” his father says with a smile. 

Which is all great, because Law loves his family. Except…

The toilet flushes and there's the sound of running water as three curious eyes turn towards the bathroom. Cora emerges into the much more populated apartment and freezes in his tracks. 

“Oh,” his mother says. 

“I wasn't aware you had someone over,” his father murmurs. 

And then, damningly, his little sister closes the door where she's been raiding his fridge, soda securely in hand. “Are you the neighbor guy Law's into?” 

Chaos explodes. “Into?” Cora blushes, and Law is suddenly keenly aware how this looks, dark living room, a mess of blankets on the couch, Cora today in sweatpants and a t-shirt, Law similarly still in pajama bottoms and an old tank top that he knows fits him well.  

“I'm helping him cat-sit!” Law says quickly, because he knows what his family is like, and he's trying to head it off. 

It's too late. His father is giving Cora a long considering look, and his mother is tugging him over to the kitchen table under the guise of formal introductions. Like a pack of hyena circling prey, Cora is caught between his parents. Irritated but helpless to interfere, Law turns on his sister instead. 

“What the fuck,” he hisses between his teeth.

Lammy laughs, popping open the soda can. “Ikkaku ratted your ass out,” she whispers back, just as quietly. 

“Okay, and you brought the parents by…because?”

“That’s what you get for threatening my prom date last year.”

“It’s not like he was scared off. You still went to the dance.”

“First date I’ve had, and you threatened him. With a scalpel.” 

“He was fine. He brought you home on time.” 

“That’s not the point!”

“That’s kinda the point.” Law mutters, and his sister rolls her eyes. 

The sounds of polite interrogation drift over, his father's resonant voice asking “What are your intentions with my son?”

“Dad!” Law yells, abandoning his sister to try and do damage control and scrambling towards the table.

“Honorable, sir!” Cora responds. Law squints. What does that even mean?

“-and how old are you dear?” his mom asks.

“MOM!” Law screeches, to no avail. They continue ignoring him. So what if Cora is a bit older? His own parents have ten years between them, they can’t possibly object!

“Thirty-four, ma’am.” Law files this information away for his own sake.

“My goodness,” she says, taking in his bandaged arms, “were you injured recently?”

By this point Law has rounded the counter, coming to stand beside Cora. With Cora’s size he can’t exactly shield him from his parents physically, much less from their questions. Cora is gesturing at his arms and flushing with embarrassment as he explains. “I'm currently looking after my brother's cat, who has a pretty foul temper-” 

Doffy, napping on the ottoman, chooses this opportunity to stand, stretch, and wander over to join the party. Delicately he sniffs at each of the new folks, before flopping on his side on the table and accepting Lammy’s enthusiastic pets. 

“I should go,” Cora tries awkwardly, “and let you folks catch up?”

“Oh no dear,” his mother protests, “we’re going out to dinner. You’ll come too.”

Cora looks down to meet his eyes, and Law shrugs helplessly. There really isn’t any escaping his family, when they’ve set their mind on something. And the glimmer of humor in both of his parents' faces means they’re greatly enjoying this at his expense.

“He’s so tall!” Lammy exclaims, blatantly looking him over. ”Do you think we can even fit him in the car?” 

“Don't be rude darling.” 

Cora laughs his I'm-feeling-awkward laugh, and takes a step back. “No, it's fine. Let me duck back into my place and clean up a little bit first,” he smiles. “I can meet you at the restaurant. I have a motorcycle.” 

“He has a motorcycle?” Dad mouths, raising his eyebrows at Law significantly behind Cora's back. Law sighs. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

The door clicks shut behind Cora’s retreating back, and Law also mutters that he’ll need to tidy himself up. Retreating back to his room to do so, he strips off his tank top, balls it up, and throws it at his sister’s head.

The next two hours of Law’s life are some of the most painfully awkward he’s experienced, as his parents satisfy their curiosity about their son’s very normally discreet love life. He does, to his parents' credit, learn a great deal about his neighbor.

Cora is thirty-four, and single, and does not want kids. He was in the intelligence branch of the Marines, with a specialty in sniping. “Does that make you an assassin?” Lammy asks with unrepressed excitement, and his parents had shushed her. He had apparently risen quite quickly in the ranks, until the injury that ended his career.

Being doctors, his parents are obviously just as curious as Law about the treatment he received, but know better than to ask on initial acquaintance.

As he speaks about his past, there’s a confidence and certainty to his voice, at odds with the demeanor Law has come to know. Law notes it down, as something to chew on later. The more he gets to know Cora, the more invested he is, in the complex set of contradictions he’s discovering.

In the car ride home, his mother offers her verdict. “Well, I like this one better than that redheaded one. Child?”

Law breathes out through his nose and declines to explain to his mother the concept of a situationship. 

“Thanks Mom. Me too.”

“Hey,” says Law, as Cora opens the door. “May I offer you a coffee of apology-for-dealing-with-my-family?” In his hand is a green and white cup. Cora accepts it with a smile, welcoming him in.

“Oh jeez, Doffy really did do a number on your apartment, huh.” Law observes, toeing off his shoes and glancing around at the destruction. Said culprit is currently clawing at the curtains, much to Cora’s despair and resignation. Upon seeing Law, Doffy carefully unsticks his claws from the fabric, sitting up straight and wrapping his tail delicately around his paws.

The ruse works, and within a moment Law is seated on the remnants of Cora’s couch, purring cat in his lap. Cora flops down next to him. “Well, I’m not good at decorating, but I’m not quite this bad.” Mentally he cheers when his joke gets a smile out of the smaller man. “I’m telling you, that cat has it out for me. Behaves for my brother just as sweetly as he does for you though. Maybe I smell wrong, or something?”

Law turns his head, and makes a point of sniffing the air near Cora’s arm. “Seems fine to me,” he murmurs, making direct eye contact.

Cora swallows and tries very pointedly to remember that absolutely nothing can occur while there is a vicious and angry ball of fluff on top of Law’s lap. “Might need further investigation…later?” he offers. Does this count as flirting? Is this how people flirt?

Law smiles in a way that does funny things to Cora’s stomach. “Later, then.”

Cora locates the remote, and powers up the tv, flipping through his subscriptions to find the episode they’d stopped at on his own account.

“You talk about your brother a lot,” Law observes quietly, stroking Doffy’s white fur.

Cora grimaces, lowering the remote and glancing sideways. That’s probably true. “He’s the only person I’ve really got, these days?” Once it’s out his mouth, he’s aware how strange it sounds, so he hurries to explain further. “Our parents died when we were young, and Doffy’s always been better at managing…everything, I suppose. Life and money,” he chuckles, “and all the rest of it. He brought our family business back from ruin, and I…I couldn’t really deal with any of it, so I joined the military instead. At eighteen it seemed like an easy option. A respectable career.” He smiles wryly while quoting the recruiter, sharing the jest at his past self’s naivety. “Of course, this was back when I was young and thought I was invincible.”

Law doesn’t smile, just watches him, hand stilling in Doffy’s coat. “You said you were retired for medical reasons?”

“Yeah. Turns out I wasn’t invincible. Anyways,” he waves a hand at his chest, “Doffy was the one who dealt with all the medical stuff when I was injured. They said without the specialists he brought in, I probably wouldn’t have made it.”

Law tilts his head inquiringly, free hand ghosting over Cora’s sweater. “Can I see?”

Medical student, he reminds himself. He still braces himself as he raises his shirt over his mangled chest, expecting noises of dismay or pity. Law just gives him a low whistle. “That’s a lot of damage,” he says, sounding impressed. He fights not to squirm when a couple fingers brush over his scars. “What happened?” Law asks with apparently genuine interest.

Slowly, Cora lowers his shirt back down and Law’s hand retreats. He regrets the loss immediately, and struggles to get his brain back onto the conversation they’re having. “Was undercover up north, trying to get intel on a band of pirates, and got caught in a larger conflict. I was supposed to leave before the Navy’s counterattack, but there was a local kid in danger, and I…I went back in for him. As you can see,” he gestures to chest with half a grin, “it did not go well.”

Now Law makes a sympathetic noise. “What happened to the kid?”

Gods, I wish I knew. He never did find out, and tries to keep his tone light as he says “Hopefully he made it out? When they found me, I was alone. It’s hard to say, with war time, but hopefully he ended up safe somewhere.” In the following silence, Cora twiddles his thumbs, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was pretty grim, I-”

“When was all that?” There’s a strangely intense note to his voice that Cora struggles to place. When he chances a look, Law is practically glaring at him.

Taken aback, Cora answers carefully. “Eight years ago, give or take? I was out for a couple years in a coma, and then there were some pretty serious treatments to get me back on my feet. Then I had to learn to walk and do all the basic shit again. I’ve really only been ‘around’ now for the last couple of years.”

“Huh.” Law has gone from Glaring at Cora to Glaring at the TV. It's clear his thoughts are miles away.

Slowly he offers up the remote. “...Do you want to watch another episode, or should we call it here for the night?” He’s not sure what he’s done to offend Law, but he seems to have done something.

Law snatches it from his hand roughly. “We’ll watch more,” he declares firmly. And then, confusingly, scoots closer. “It’s not you,” he says. “You just reminded me of something.”

Taking the explanation for what it is, Cora lets himself relax into the couch, arm coming up to rest behind Law’s head again, which is met with no objection. Law presses play, and the adventures of Sora, Warrior of the Sea continue in front of them.

For his part, Law is quiet throughout the episode, his eyes darting between Cora and the screen.

“Lammy.”

A groan emerges from the phone, and he can almost picture her, hair sticking up eight different ways and squinting into the dark. “Law, it’s like 1am and I’m taking AP classes this summer. What.”

“Shut up, this is important. What do you remember about the soldier guy from our village?”

There are rustling sounds as she sits up. “The foreign one? I dunno, I was young. You were the one who spent the most time with him. Why? He was only there for a couple of months, before...”

Before the forces of Germa and the East Blue decided to use the lands near their home for a proxy war, thousands of miles from their own lands. Law’s family had fled in the first attack, leaving behind so much of what their family had built up over generations. They had been the lucky ones, escaping with their lives. He doesn’t usually dwell on those parts of the past, keeping the gruesome recollections locked up tightly away from his day to day. But something about Cora’s story had nudged one particular set of memories free.

There’s no way though, right? That would be crazy.

“Yeah…” Law shakes himself out of it. He’s being stupid, and he’s keeping his sister up for no reason. “Sorry for waking you, I just, uh…”

“It’s fine,” she mumbles, sounding already halfway back to sleep. There’s a bit of rustling on the other end and she asks “Water, are you okay?”

“I am,” he assures her. “I really, really am.”

“Mmkay. If you’re lying to me, I’ll do worse than set Mom and Dad on you.”

He doesn’t doubt it. His sister is terrifyingly creative when she chooses to be. “I’m good. Have a good night, Lammy.”

The line clicks dead, and Law stares at his phone in the darkness until the light from the screen cycles to dim, before placing it on his pillow and rolling over.  

By this point, Law has come to recognize Cora’s knock at his door. Lips quirking into a slight smile, he lays his book aside and pushes himself up from the couch. He’s expecting another night with Cora, cat, and tv, a routine that’s become surprisingly welcome. When he opens the door though, he finds his neighbor’s hands full of something else entirely.

“Flowers?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

Cora shifts his weight nervously. “And dinner, if you’d like? I know you’re busy with med school, but…I’m okay with that. If you are.”

Law gives him a long look. Are they doing this? Fuck it, they might as well. They’re practically dating already. He holds out a hand for the flowers. “Where are you taking me to dinner?” he asks with a smirk. He doesn’t actually care, this silly man could take him to the nearest fast food chain and he’d be perfectly content with the choice, but it’s worth applying the pressure for the light dusting of pink it puts across the blond man’s cheeks.

When Cora lists off one of the fancier steak houses in the city (the exact one his friends had mentioned, actually!) Law hums assent and steps aside to let him in. “All alone today?” he asks, inspecting the colorful bouquet of seasonal blooms. He can’t remember the last time he had flowers in his house, and it’s unexpectedly causing his chest to tighten. “Where’s the tiny terrorist?”

“Gone home. My brother swung by earlier to pick him up.”

“Oh?” Scrounging in his cabinets, Law finds and pulls out the only tall glass he owns, filling it with water and placing the flowers delicately inside. Once it’s safely on the counter, he turns to face his date. “So now it’s just you in that big, cold apartment?”

Cora snorts at his obviously flirty tone. “Me and all my ruined furniture,” he says with a smile, stepping closer. He hooks Law by a belt loop, and Law allows himself to be drawn in.

“Might be lonely,” Law comments with a coy smile, pressing closer.

Cora is watching him fondly. Slowly and obviously, he leans forward, taking forever to get to the point that Law can grip Cora’s collar in his fists, tugging him down and crushing their lips together. Their mouths meet hesitantly at first, a press of warm and dry meeting slightly chapped lips, then more sure as they settle into a rhythm and angle that works. Cora’s hands find Law’s hips and hoist Law up onto the counter to deepen the kiss with an ease that sends a shiver down Law’s spine. For a few moments the only conversation in the apartment occurs in soft, wet noises and the rustling of fabric, as hands and tongues explore. Eventually, Cora pulls back, only to stare at Law for a moment, smiling. He tucks a black curl behind Law’s ear.

“What are you smiling at?” Law asks, already mentally strategizing how best to migrate them both onto the couch.

“I was thinking it does sound pretty lonely,” Cora agrees, and Law’s brain has to backtrack to the previous conversation. “To be in my apartment, all by myself again,” he clarifies. “...Do you think I should get a dog?”

Law frowns. “A dog?”

“A small one. Round, cute. Easy to handle, some sort of cheerful breed.”

Law’s arms slide around the other man’s neck as he tugs Cora back down. “Give it a couple months,” he advises. “Maybe we can get one together.”