Chapter Text
The late summer air hits Law in the face, doing nothing to cool the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He stumbles down the brick stairway onto the gravel, clearing as much ground as he can before his legs give out. The music and laughter from inside trails after him through the open window.
It’s barely past 9 pm, the golden summer sun only just sinking below the horizon. Law had been expecting to be here all night—these types of gathering go late into the morning with the flow of whiskey and cigars—but he right now just wants to go. He doesn’t even know where—he doesn’t have a destination, just needs a moment to clear his head, space to fucking think.
His cheek throbs in time with the rabbiting heart. Law’s stomach rolls. He’s not going to throw up. He’s not.
“Corazón!”
Law’s feet stutter, then stop. There’s no point in running now that he’s been spotted. He swallows and turns around slowly, drawing his shoulders back, pretending to be brave.
“I’m leaving.”
Doflamingo tilts his head. Law can’t see his eyes with those glasses, but the disappointed frown on his face is telling enough. “We’d be rude to leave so early. Come back inside. Crocy hasn’t even brought out the good wine yet.”
He holds out his arm expectantly. He’s got to be a fucking moron if he thinks Law’s gonna take it.
“You think I care about good wine? Ow —” Law cringes as his snarl tweaks the sore muscles in his cheek, a hand flying up to cradle the reddened skin. Fuck, talking hurts. He needs to find a cold compress. Would it be rude to ask a millionaire for an ice pack? He doubts they’d have a frozen pea bag or steak.
Being struck isn’t a new sensation. It’s something Law actually likes, a way to scratch his masochistic side without being too self destructive. But he’s only ever tried it in the bedroom. When he’s ready for it, not in the middle of a party full of rich assholes.
The gravel crunches, and his breath hitches when a weight falls over his shoulders.
“You look cold,” Doflamingo murmurs, now sans his suit jacket. It rests on Law, big and warm and filling his senses with the smell of his cologne. The frantic patter of Law’s heart starts to even out into a smooth rhythm. “Come back inside. You’ll have wine and gougère.”
“I can’t eat that,” Law mumbles lamely.
Fingers find his chin, tilting his head up. “Then you can watch me eat double.” Doflamingo smiles sweetly, the expression making Law’s toes curl in his shoes.
Law forces himself to tear his gaze away, looking back toward the house. It’s fucking huge, big enough to fit his childhood home in five times over. He’d been introduced to the man who owns it so briefly, along with about three dozen other people with tinkling laughs and sharp smiles. He tried to remember everyone’s names at first, but he quickly gave up. He still feels a little guilty about it.
“Why did you bring me here?”
The question is soft, nearly lost as another round of laughter and clinking glasses floats onto the lawn. This isn’t like any of their evenings out at fancy restaurants or back rooms in private clubs. A house party with the one percent is a whole new world. There’s so much Dior here, just thinking about how much it costs makes Law’s skin crawl.
“I wanted you here with me.”
Law’s gaze sharpens and he pushes the hand away. “Piss off. You left me alone. You hit me. I don’t want to stay, and—” He turns his face back toward the house, brows drawing down in confusion, “What was behind that door…?”
“Something you don’t need to think about.” Law’s pulled deeper into Doflamingo’s arms, blocked away from the rest of the world and held like something precious. Law is tall, but Doflamingo is taller, allowing him to easily slot his head underneath the blond’s chin.
“I’m sorry for leaving you, mi corazón, but I told you to wait downstairs. I expect you to listen to me. Being disobeyed made me lose my temper.”
“I…”
And Law feels so small wrapped up in this jacket that costs more than his rent, held by a man who will make more money in ten minutes than Law will ever make in his whole life. He wants to keep protesting, because like hell is he going to be treated like some doll, but it just…doesn’t seem worth it. He’s so fucking far out of his league right now. He hates that Doflamingo has to coddle him.
He hates it even more that he likes it.
They’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, simple meetups at a local BDSM club turning into more, but somehow Doflamingo has infiltrated Law’s entire world, speaking to him with an intimacy that comes as though they’ve known each other their entire lives. Law’s never had anyone talk to him like this before. It’s absolutely maddening. Law feels drunk off of just hearing his voice.
It’s hard to fight with someone who has the raw charisma of a god.
“I’m sorry,” Law mumbles, defeated.
“I know you are, sweet Law.” Doflamingo draws back, his devilish smirk sending heat curling through Law’s stomach. “I’ll forgive you if you behave the rest of the night. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”
Doflamingo’s thumb swipes tenderly under his bruised cheek, then tugs at Law’s lower lip. A shiver races down Law’s spine. It’s such a simple touch, but it sets him on fire. And suddenly nothing else in the world matters—not the party, the rude people, the sting on Law’s cheek. Only this—only him .
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” The hand on his chin tightens, a tender grip turning harsh. “Have you forgotten your manners?”
“Yes, daddy.”
Doflamingo grins sharply, and holy shit the things Law wants to do to this man. That smile is unholy. It’s not fucking fair. “Good boy.”
The arm is offered to him again. This time, Law takes it, and lets himself be lead back inside.
Six Years Later
“Hey, Traffy. D’you think I can make you cum without anyone noticing?”
Law looks up from where he’s lounging his head on Luffy’s lap.
“Really?” Law says mildly, but he can’t stop the smirk pulling on his lips. The weed in his system has made the world feel thick, his limbs floaty and delightfully detached. Somehow, Luffy’s eyes piece through it all, bright and burning with mischief. “You want to fuck right here ?”
It’s one of those parties, where everyone is either stoned or drunk or both, too far gone to really be fully tethered to reality. There’s a haze in the air, filthy with promise. And even though it’s dark, and the people in here are halfclothed and heavy petting anyway, outright fucking would certainly turn some heads.
Besides. They both know how Luffy gets. He turns into an uncontrollable, insatiable monster, driving forward without thinking, chasing his own pleasure as much as Law’s. It’s hardly the type of thing you’d be able to hide, considering Luffy could probably break the couch.
“Or I could be inside you,” Luffy suggests lowly, “and you could hold my cock.”
Law hums, rolling his shoulders. The stereo in the other room is loud enough that the base still covers up any real conversation that could be overheard. The remnants of his last blunt are embers now in the ashtray, the high wrapping delightfully around his mind, leaving Law fuzzy and pliant.
“Could you handle that?”
“Uh huh.” Luffy’s thighs tense and relax under him. “I prepped.”
“Prepped?” Law quirks an eyebrow, curious now. He sits up, movements slow with the heaviness of his limbs, nuzzling close to Luffy’s side.
“Yeah,” Luffy whispers, hot breath puffing across Law’s cheek and ear. “I got off before we came. In case you wanted to.”
“How considerate.” Law presses his nose against Luffy’s cheek, huffing a laugh. He always gets more cuddly once the weed is in his bloodstream, but now he can feel low desire simmering there as well.
They’ve never done anything in public before, but Law has. Luffy’s been experiencing a lot of his firsts with Law.
And—what the hell. Who is Law to deny him? Cockwarming is fun.
With practiced ease, Law swings his legs over Luffy’s hips. No one bats an eye, the few other couples in the room in similar positions. Luffy makes quick work of the fly on his shorts, helps Law shimmy his tight jeans down just enough. While other people are in dubious positions, what they’re doing is definitely more obvious. Law grabs a thin blanket from the back of the couch to keep them decent.
Luffy pumps his cock a few times in his fist, groaning when Law teases the flushed tip between his folds. The head catches deliciously on Law's piercing, making them both shudder. It's a smooth glide; Law's already wet, because apparently just being in Luffy’s presence is enough for him. “Last chance to back out. You sure you can handle this?”
Brown eyes spark with challenge. “You should be worried about that.”
And then Luffy grabs his hips and yanks him down, stuffing his length in all at once. Law’s squeal gets muffled by Luffy’s mouth, quickly sealing over his. Shudders wrack through Law’s frame, adjusting to the delicious sting of abruptly being filled.
Luffy pulls back first. “Is this okay?”
Law huffs, breathless, against Luffy’s mouth. Warm, calloused palms run up and down his sides, drawing out a shiver. “You’re asking after you shove your cock in me?”
Luffy’s brow furrows, his hands stilling. “I thought you wanted—”
Law cuts off the protest with his lips, drawing Luffy into a sloppy kiss. And, Law does want. He wants everything Luffy will give him and more. It’s nice when Luffy asks, when he checks in and treats Law with respect.
But it’s also nice when he doesn’t.
It lets Law sink into that haze, the space where he doesn’t have to think, where he doesn’t have to decide what happens next; a space that forces him to do nothing, be nothing, just sit and stay stuffed to the brim with cock. It’s easy, almost like breathing, like Law was made for this and only this.
Luffy doesn’t always take him here—not right away, anyway—but god, when he does.
Law pulls back from the kiss, a messy string of spit stretching out between them. Brown eyes are clouded with desire, and Law’s heart squeezes at the spark of predatory glee.
“Luffy,” Law breathes, and he doesn’t know why he says his name. A reminder, perhaps. That this is real, that Luffy is the one spearing him open, squeezing his hands on Law’s hips, engulfing every sense with the haze of pleasure. His walls are still getting used to the intrusion, and he squeezes only for Luffy to dig his thumbs painfully into Law’s hipbones.
“Stay still.” Luffy’s voice is soft but commanding, and Law crumples so easily. “Someone could notice. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Law…Law doesn’t know what he likes anymore.
Truthfully, public cockwarming isn’t something Law wanted to do tonight. He’d thought it would be an easy, cozy night of getting buzzed and letting Luffy explain different geniuses of beetles to him.
But he supposes he should have expected the night to turn out like this. This is one of those parties, after all.
Law barely holds back his whimper, nodding into Luffy’s neck. Luffy chauffs. “So filthy, Traffy.”
“You say that like this wasn’t your idea.” Luffy’s hands slip under his shirt, thumb brushing against his pierced nipple. Law stutters a breath, his cunt squeezing, delighting in the flush that rises on Luffy’s cheeks.
“Yeah, but you like this. Mmh —” Luffy groans lowly, the sound rocketing arousal down Law’s spine. And Jesus, look at him. He’s so fucking pretty when his eyes roll back like that. “You really like this. I can feel everything .”
Law knows he’s a responsive lover. Getting wet quickly comes from years of being touch starved, among other things, but it always feels so much more intense with Luffy. The molten heat in his belly is all consuming. Luffy grits his teeth and bucks his hips up once, almost like he can’t resist, and Law’s yelp is quickly swallowed by another open mouthed, messy kiss.
Law whines into it, walls fluttering helplessly, melting around Luffy’s cock. He wants to push down on Luffy’s shoulders and fuck him until this couch breaks, but he knows he needs to be good. It’s the sweetest type of torture, and he’s throbbing with it.
“You’re so hot,” Luffy whines, “god. The second everybody’s gone, gonna fuck you into the floor.”
His mouth tugs on Law’s ear, the jewelry clinking and rolling between his tongue. Law’s breath hitches. He’d forgotten that there were other people around them, who could see that he’s stuffed full right now.
“H-how many?”
Luffy hasn’t stopped mouthing around his ear. “Hah?”
“How many people are left?”
“Three. None of ‘em are looking.” Hands squeeze his ass, kneading into the flesh. Luffy is so fucking tactile, acting like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have his hands on Law all the time.
“I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.” Law can hear the airiness of his own taunt. “I can feel you throbbing inside me.”
Luffy’s gaze darkens. Law's playing with fire, a masochist at heart.
“You're drenching my thighs. Traffy always gets so wet for me. Desperate little slut.”
Law’s cunt clenches hard, practically on instinct, and Luffy moans raggedly. He doesn't always talk like this, hesitant to participate in any kind of degradation because he was worried about hurting Law's feelings. It wasn’t until Law pushed, said that he wanted it, that Luffy finally relented.
It still comes as a surprise.
Luffy’s hand stops playing with his ass, sliding up his flank to his neck. He cradles Law’s jaw in his palm, tilting his chin up until they lock eyes. Luffy’s scrutinizing him, his expression painfully open and honest. He’s checking in. He’s doing everything right.
Luffy isn’t a bad person. Law’s the one trying to turn him into a monster.
“How—” Law’s tongue wets his bottom lip, “How many?”
“Just one more couple now. Fuck —” Luffy’s breath hitches when Law turns his head, taking Luffy’s thumb into his mouth. Law lets his eyelids droop as he sucks, knowing exactly what kind of picture he makes. It makes Luffy’s honest expression drop, turning darker, shooting sparks down Law’s spine. The intensity of Luffy’s gaze makes him feel drunk, untouchable.
“You tryin’ to make me fuck you now ?”
Law releases the finger with a wet pop and, because he’s feeling particularly bratty, smirks. “You wouldn’t. Coward.”
Luffy’s eyes widen.
And then he smiles, a sharp, feral bearing of canines. Heat flares on Law’s cheeks, and he feels a new wave of slick gushing from him, a full body reaction.
Law can’t tell if it’s perfect or horrible timing that the lingering people leave at that moment. They're alone for approximately 3 seconds before Luffy moves, hands flying down to Law’s hips to readjust him. Law’s hands seize Luffy’s broad shoulders, finding purchase just as he starts to get fucked.
Law’s head falls backward with a loud moan, eyes rolling back at finally finally being filled properly. Luffy’s not much better, both of them panting wetly and whining into each other as they chase their pleasure. Law bumps his sweaty forehead against Luffy’s, wishing that he could stay like this, wrapped up in this perfect little bubble.
But then Luffy starts talking.
“This is where you belong,” Luffy says. “On my cock. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it, Traffy? A perfect pussy for me.”
Law pants out a wet, wounded noise. His throat closes up, his eyes suddenly pricking with heat.
And then it hits, all at once. The denial, the desperation. Luffy saying those words to him. He’s fucking crying. He scrunches up his face but it doesn’t help, the thin tears escaping and sliding down his cheeks.
“Traffy? Are you—” Luffy sounds appropriately alarmed, but cuts off with a groan when Law pushes his hips down harder. “You…like this?”
He doesn’t, but his mouth isn’t working. His hips move on autopilot, his subconscious taking over. Muscle memory is a hell of a thing, leading him to grind deeper, harder, even as a pathetic mewl rips out of his throat.
“Damn,” Luffy whispers, almost in awe. He wraps an arm around Law’s lower back, meeting his next thrust with a punch of his hips. Law bites back a yelp, digging his fingernails into Luffy’s shoulders through the thin shirt, probably breaking skin. He wills himself to stop crying, but the tears just keep rolling. It’s humiliating, edging rapidly toward too much.
“That’s it. Let it out,” Luffy coos, his voice so sweet and low and so different than the way he’s pounding into Law now. “That was a lot, yeah? It’s okay. I’ll give Traffy what he needs. Just take it. Cry on my cock like a good little whore.”
Law cries harder and bounces on Luffy’s lap. His chest is too tight, heart constricting. This was supposed to be fun. Fun for who? Law doesn’t know; he’s not sure if he ever knew.
“So fucking good, your pussy is so good—want you like this forever, filled up and mine. Doesn’t that sound good, Traffy? Being wet and open for me, only me?”
Law can barely breathe, Luffy’s punching the air right out of him. His fingers find Law’s cock and he tugs harshly, a wave of white hot pleasure striking through him.
“Look at you. You’re so smart, top of your class, but you look so stupid crying and desperate to cum. You like being fucked dumb on my cock?”
“Yes yes yes,” Law cries, shrill around the tears. “Fuck, Luffy—”
Luffy’s teeth catch on Law’s exposed collarbone, the pain cutting sharply through the haze. “Mine, all mine. My perfect little toy to use whenever I want.”
A sob rips out of Law’s throat, primal and raw. He’s trembling uncontrollably, shaking apart in Luffy’s arms.
“Hey.” Suddenly Luffy shifts, grabbing his chin with one hand and stilling Law’s hips with the other. “You alright?”
Law’s caught, held in this space, forced to be still. His breathing is far too ragged, adrenaline tinged with arousal and something else buzzes through him. It’s a high he hasn’t felt in months. It’s addictive and dangerous and euphoric all at once.
Luffy stares back at him, his gaze intense, his cock still hard where he’s buried in Law’s cunt. “Traffy,” Luffy says lowly, all playful pretenses shattered with the concern in his voice, “you sure you still want this?”
Law trembles. The question doesn’t compute. He doesn’t know how to answer.
“You know I don’t mean it,” Luffy continues, brushing the tears from his face. The gentle touch almost makes Law sob again. “I don’t really think you’re any of those things.”
And that’s it, isn’t it? The double edged sword Law’s been living with for the past six months.
Because Law wants Luffy to weave his fingers gently through his hair. He wants Luffy to kiss his throat and call him beautiful and tell him he’ll never leave. He wants Luffy to hold him, ground him, keep him from falling apart. He wants Luffy to say nice and respectful things, to see Law and not just another hole.
Law nods, slowly rising to the surface of reality little by little. He’s not crying anymore, the tightness in his chest starting to unwind. But this —this feeling between that safe, dreamy space and full awareness is entirely new. Law feels too raw, vulnerable, unsettled down to his bones.
Because here, in this between, all you’re good for still rings in his ears—leading his mind down a darker path, taking him away from this couch, this party, this corner of the city that he fled to. Back to when he had no semblance of control over his life that he fought so fucking hard for.
He needs to get back into that hazy space, now.
“Want you,” Law moans, surprised at how steady his voice sounds. How needy, how full of enthusiasm. He rolls his hips in the way that always works and is relieved when it makes Luffy’s eyelids flutter. “Please, Luffy—want you so bad, wreck me, make me cry for you—”
But a frown tugs on Luffy’s lips. “I don’t want you to cry. I…” Sweaty palms come up to cup his face tenderly. “We should stop.”
It feels like the earth has been ripped out under him. Law’s hips stutter, confused.
Luffy draws him closer, tenderly as if holding him after a nightmare. Law grits his teeth and presses his face to Luffy’s neck, inhaling his scent to ground himself. Luffy smells like sweat and the cheap beer he was drinking, and under that, like cut grass and the remnants of bar soap. Wrong, and Law keens, an animalistic, wounded noise. He cants his hips desperately, quick and uncoordinated until hands seizes them, keeps them still.
“Traffy. Traffy, stop it!”
Law wants to scream. Hot fury races down his spine, because he knows what he can do, what his cunt is worth, why won’t Luffy just—?
Angrily, Law’s teeth find the flesh of Luffy's shoulder, digging in and breaking skin. Luffy snarls, and Law waits for the sharp pull in his hair, the slap across his cheek, the hand around his throat closing off his airway. Waits the punishment, the pain, the consequences, because if there aren’t consequences how the hell is he supposed to—
The heat in his stomach is curdling. Law didn’t even know he started crying again until another sob ribs out. He feels defeated, small, curling into himself and loathing that he’s reduced to this.
All you’re good for.
“Traffy.” Luffy’s voice is distant and warbly, as though underwater. “Let’s go home.”
━━━━━━━━━━
Four days later, Law is googling where would be best to pawn his nipple jewelry when there's a knock on his apartment door.
It slams open before he can even get off the couch, bouncing off the wall with the force. Fucking green neanderthal.
“Traffy,” Zoro says, his brow set in a way that makes it seem like it's Law's fault for kicking down his door. “We need to talk.”
“Does it involve you giving me back my security deposit?”
Zoro doesn't rise to the bait, which is unusual. He looks so…serious as he lumbers inside. Zoro is usually stoic, but he’s not usually angry.
It's weird. Did someone die?
“It’s about Luffy.”
Ah .
“Ah,” Law says, looking away.
“He’s been worried about you. You haven’t talked to him since Bartolomeo’s party.”
“I'm fine.”
“That’s not what he thinks.”
“Well, I am. And I told him I was fine, too.” This does nothing to appease Zoro's scowl. Law lets out an aggravated breath. The humidity in his studio is stifling, even with the window open. The single ceiling fan above him is crookedly hanging off the hook, the plaster of the ceiling cracked around it. Law needs to call someone about that.
“Fine. I'll call him.”
“You’ll apologize.”
Law bristles. “For what ?”
“For ignoring him.”
Law scoffs. Jesus. He can’t ignore a text now? It’s not like Luffy is his boyfriend. Law’s made it clear that everything they’ve done has no strings attached. “I wasn't ignoring—”
“He was freaking out, Traffy. He cried so hard he threw up. I've only ever seen him do that after his brother made him ride the bullet coaster after eating six chili cheese dogs.”
Law sits up a little more. He rapidly thinks over what happened at the party, what happened after.
“I told him I was fine.”
“But he wasn’t.”
Law opens his mouth, but finds that he doesn’t have a response. He fights to keep his face impassive while his pulse picks up. Luffy had really been that worried about him?
Zoro sighs, sinking further onto the coffee table that's really just two busted crates with a threadbare blanket thrown over it. “Okay, look. I get you haven’t known him for a long time, but there’s nothing Luffy hates more than upsetting the people he loves. Like it or not you fall under that umbrella now too.”
Law feels warm on the back of his neck. He needs to open another window.
“I don’t really give a shit about what you guys do when you’re fucking around. Don’t really want to know, either. But Luffy hasn’t—he’s not a Dom. Yeah, he can be a dominant guy, but he doesn’t know how to watch out for you sinking too deep. Or, how to safely get you out once you're there.”
Because the edges of his heart start to twinge with panic, Law goes on defense. “He agreed to have sex with me. I don’t see how that’s my fault.”
“It is if you don’t have a fucking conversation ahead of time. Boundaries, asshole.”
Boundaries. A luxury Law hasn’t had in years. “I don’t have any to discuss.”
“Luffy does!” Zoro’s raised voice seems so loud in the small studio, echoing across the dingy walls and piercing in Law’s ears like a drum. “Making you cry fucked with him, and then you left him on read for a week. You pushed him into domspace and he dropped hard because he didn’t know if you were okay!”
Law’s lip curls. “I am okay!”
“Are you?” Zoro doesn’t give him an inch. “Because you’re acting like Sanji!”
That throws Law for a loop. “Sanji?” He’s only met the blond cook a few times, usually running into him at house parties, usually on Zoro’s arm or wrestling Luffy away from food that isn’t his.
Zoro finally lets his shoulders drop with a deep sigh. “From a while back. When he was dealing with the shit from his ex-Dom. It’s not my story to tell. But the point is—some asshole fucked him up, and I think some asshole fucked you up, and now you’re taking it out on Luffy and that’s not fair —” He’s on a roll now, voice raising again, “because Luffy really likes you! And I think you like him too! So stop being a goddamn child, Traffy, and take responsibility for screwing with other people!”
Zoro’s breathing hard, flushed and riled up. Law’s surprised that he is, too. The air has turned cold, goosebumps on his skin spreading like ice.
“Are,” Law croaks, then licks his lips. “Are you done?”
“Yeah.” Zoro pushes off the coffee table, the whole thing rocking under the shift of his weight. “I’m gonna tell Sanji to send you his therapist’s number. And, whatever. Don’t call Luffy if you’re done with him. Fuck if I care.”
He only pauses once he’s by the door. “Did he make you feel safe?”
Law feels taken aback. “Of course he—”
“I don't mean Luffy.” Zoro's gaze is sharp, pinning him in his chair. “I mean whoever the fuck you’re trying to get Luffy to be.”
It feels like a punch to the gut. Law is suddenly winded, the breath knocked out of his lungs.
“Yeah,” Zoro huffs, turning back to the door. “That’s what I thought.”
━━━━━━━━━━
The thing about it was, it happened so fast.
Law thought he knew what he was getting into. That he was prepared for it. He’d done his research, educated himself on the ins and outs of what went on in a club like that. Had tried a few things before with blindfolds and light bondage with some past boyfriends. He was stupid and nineteen. He’d wanted more.
Famous last words.
Becoming his own person again felt like building a house with a rotted foundation, with rusted nails, with boards warped beyond repair. It’s touch and go. A process, because there’s no way six months is going to unravel the fucking years of that.
Zoro’s right, though. He’s been a dick.
“Ha!” Nami laughs at him from where she’s sitting on the coffee counter. “Zoro being right about something? Hell must have frozen over.”
“Pigs will be flying next,” Usopp agrees. His commentary is extremely unhelpful and uncalled for, the two of them ganging up on him even though Law's literally admitting he was wrong.
Law’s jaw ticks. The pair of them are supposed to be helping him close, but neither of them are actually doing anything. Which is normally something Law would get angry about, but today he’s relieved. The longer it takes for him to wipe everything down, the more time he has before he sees Luffy.
He can get lost in his head when he’s doing something methodical, which is how he let Nami weasel information out of him in the first place. They’re Luffy’s friends first and foremost, so they probably knew something was wrong even before Law did.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Just let him know what happened.” Nami shrugs, looking up from her phone for the first time. “Be honest. Luffy just wants to make sure you’re okay. Bring him a couple leftover muffins and he’ll forgive you like that.”
“Forgiving me implies that he’s mad at me.”
“He’s not mad, he’s worried. If your boyfriend had a sexual freakout and then ignored you for several days, wouldn’t you be worried, too?”
Law’s gaze sharpens. “Luffy’s not my boyfriend.” And then, miserably: “Yeah, you’re right.”
The thing is, Law isn’t good with feelings. He’s learned to keep a closed fist around his heart. Luffy is the exact opposite. He acts purely on emotion. It’s equally horrifying and endearing at once.
“Exactly. I’m always right.”
“She is,” Usopp agrees, then whips out his hand to cover his mouth and stage whisper, “Just say she is, it’s easier.”
“I heard that, you little snake!” Nami’s snarl drops when her phone buzzes. “Oh, Usopp. Are you coming to Vivi’s show next week? She needs a confirmed count for the caterer.”
“It’s food from the Baratie, right? I’ll be there!”
Law empties out the rest of the display case of muffins and lets Usopp lock up before starting the trek from Silvers Coffee to Long Ring Gym. It’s on the same block and both establishments are owned by the same man, Rayleigh. Law doesn’t know a lot about him, only briefly meeting him on that harried afternoon where Law somehow convinced him to give him a job and a place to live just by looking pathetic enough. Aside from being a business owner and boxing coach, Rayleigh is also apparently a mechanic. Law’s not sure of the validity on that, considering Usopp is the one who told him.
The garage doors of the gym are open, letting Law hear the sounds of the match that’s currently underway. It’s a nice place, if you were into watching people beat the shit out of each other. Law isn’t, for the record, but he’s come to appreciate the view being in here gets him.
He sticks close to the wall, staying to the edge of the mats and rings, weaving his way around sweaty men and women in various states of undress. God, every time he comes in here he smells so gross. It’s like the sweat permeates into his skin.
His eyes finally find the person he’s looking for. Luffy’s in a ring right now, red gloves raised high. He’s shorter than the guy he’s up against, but his bare torso makes it obvious they’re evenly matched. It always surprises Law that underneath that floppy, puppy-limb energy, Luffy is built —broad shoulders, abs, defined pecs, the works. Luffy circles his opponent, his grin sharp and wide. He’s flushed with the fight and sweat is dripping off his skin and…
…Why has Law been avoiding him?
Law planned to wait until Luffy was done with his practice to talk to him. But as Luffy completes his next circle, his eyes flash up and their gazes lock. Luffy’s stance falters, his mouth forming a shape that looks suspiciously like Traffy.
And then, he gets punched in the face.
“Sorry,” Law says, later. He isn’t sure if he’s apologizing for the sting of the neosporin or for causing Luffy to falter. “The swelling will go down soon.”
“Eh, it's fine.” Luffy waves him off. They’re sitting outside the gym on the curb, the sounds of the next match filtering in along with the occasional car driving by. The night is warm, humid, comfortable. Luffy is alternating between wincing as Law cleans the cut that’s on his cheek and stuffing muffins in his face whole. Law was barely able to snatch the paper wrapping off before he swallowed that, too. “I got a good doctor.”
“I don’t have my license yet.”
“But you’re close!” And yeah, Law is, kind of. He had to re-enroll this semester—because he’s an idiot who let himself get talked out of med school before finishing—so he’s doubling up on credits to stay on track. Classes are difficult, but Law likes the challenge. It gives him something healthy to think about. If possible, he would let it consume him.
“Rayleigh’s been telling me I need to look out for Bellamy’s hook,” Luffy goes on, talking shop now, “but it’s not even that hard. He’s just faster than you think.”
Law thinks about the various other opponents Luffy’s mentioned, and can’t seem to place this one. “He’s new?”
“Yeah!” Luffy smiles, obviously pleased that Law remembered. “He’s only been here a few days, so Rayleigh’s trying to set him up with good matches. The only reason I got hit is ‘cause I got distracted.”
“Sorry.”
“Quit saying that already! I already know you are.” Luffy’s annoyed expression softens into something Law doesn’t deserve. “You came to see me.”
“I—” Law’s biting response dies in his throat. “Yeah.”
Luffy’s grin widens. “You brought me food!”
“Those muffins were going to be thrown out anyway. It’s not like I paid for them.”
“Traffy,” Luffy says, and suddenly he’s all serious. “Are you okay? I was worried about you.”
And, like. What the fuck is Law supposed to do now. He can’t apologize again, Luffy will yell at him. His stomach is fluttering with the intensity of those eyes, and he just wants to kiss Luffy, but Zoro’s words are ringing in his ears.
He refuses to let Luffy go through that again.
“Have you ever taken a kink test?”
Luffy tilts his head. “What’s a kink test?”
“It’s—” and Law comes to the horrible realization that yes, he’s really having this conversation here, on the curb outside of a boxing gym, in public. He lowers his voice. “It’s like a survey. There are a lot of questions about what you’re comfortable doing with someone when you have sex.”
Luffy makes a face. “That sounds like work.”
“It’s not. It’s—look, I’m sending you the link. Do it and send me your results. I’m not fucking you again until you do.”
“Eh? But I don’t wanna take a test. I’m fine with whatever Traffy wants.”
“No,” Law stresses, “Luffy, you’re not. I hurt you because I pushed you into something you weren’t comfortable with. You should be furious at me. I…” He pulls his hands away, glaring angrily at the cracks in the pavement between his feet.
He’s never been given this kind of power before. It feels wrong to wield it.
“I’m not used to being asked what I want to do with a partner.” Law’s breath comes in carefully, controlled. He will stay calm. “So I forgot that it goes both ways. It’s really important to me that you feel safe with me.”
Silence. A car drives by. There isn’t much traffic on this side of the city. It’s quiet and quaint. Law likes it.
“Okay.” Luffy nods, and a weight is lifted from Law's shoulders. “If it’s important to you, I’ll take your sex test.”
“It’s not a—”
“But!” Luffy’s grin is back, pointing a finger in his face. “Only if Traffy goes on an real date with me.”
“We have gone on dates.”
“Nami says parties don’t count.”
“Do you regularly talk to Nami about me?”
Luffy shrugs. “When she asks.”
Law has a feeling that’s often.
This is getting dangerously close to something he doesn’t want to address right now. He nips it in the bud. “Going on a real date doesn’t make me your boyfriend.”
“But what if it does?”
Law huffs. As if it's that simple. As if Law could just wave his hand and magically fix everything. Luffy is asking for something he doesn’t understand.
“I won't be a good boyfriend. I’m not nice.”
“That’s silly, Traffy. You brought me food and fixed my face.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I…” Law starts that sentence and has no idea where it’s going. God. He hates how easy it feels with Luffy. How much he wants to stay and sit on the curb and talk with him forever about nothing and everything. How badly he wants to kiss him. Hold his hand. Do the stupid, normal coupley things Law’s never done before.
“Fine. One date.”
Luffy grins like it’s a victory.
━━━━━━━━━━
“ZORO! HELP ME TAKE THE SEX TEST!”
There’s a shriek, a curse, and the sound of something spilling. The whole apartment is dark except for the light from the TV and the warmth from the hallway spilling in from the door Luffy just kicked open. It illuminates Zoro and Sanji, who look as though they were cuddling but jumped apart. The popcorn born lies upturned on the floor, kernels spread on the couch and floor.
“Oh. Were you guys watching something scary?” A smile worms its way onto Luffy’s face. “Can I watch too?” He goes to jump on the couch between them, only to get kicked away.
“IDIOT!” Sanji shouts back. “Why do you have to scream everywhere you go?”
“This is my apartment!”
“Half,” Sanji corrects. He shakes his head and grabs the overturned bowl, beginning the process of cleaning up the spilled kernels.
“What’s a sex test?” Zoro asks. He’s still slumped on the couch in his spot, his arm thrown over the back. It doesn't even look like he spilled his beer.
Luffy shrugs. “I dunno. Traffy sent it to me.”
“He finally talked to you?” Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Yeah, and apologized about a billion times.”
“Good.”
“Okay but—not good! Zoro! He said he won’t have sex with me until I do the test!”
Sanji snorts. “Didn’t know foreplay with that freak involved math.”
“It’s not math,” Luffy denies, then realizes that it might be. “Noooo what if it’s math!! Now Traffy’s never gonna be my boyfriend!”
Zoro looks unphased as Luffy melts into the couch, defeated by the concept of algebra. “Finally wore him down?”
“No.” Luffy’s response comes out mumbled, “but he said he’d go on a real date with me. Only if I finish the test.”
Sanji frowns. “I thought you two were dating.”
“Traffy’s playin’ hard to get. UGH,” Luffy rolls over onto his back. His muscles twinge, nicely sore from practice. “This SUCKS. I don’t want to do MATH.”
But he will, because he really wants to be with Law. He’s known the guy for six months, been fucking him for four, and Luffy is kind of obsessed with him. Law is sarcastic, grumpy, and mean, but he makes Luffy laugh. He’s kind, even though he always says he’s not. Luffy wants to be around him all the time—not just when they have sex.
The thing is—he knows Law wants it, too. Law doesn’t talk about it (even though Luffy asks), but he never denies Luffy outright (even though it’s never a no). He always squirms his way around the question, avoiding saying what he’s really feeling like it’s a game. It drives Luffy up a wall.
“Good news.” Zoro cuts into his thoughts. Luffy looks over and sees that his roommate has taken his phone without noticing. “There’s no math.”
“YES.” Luffy pops up onto his knees, scrambling to take his phone back.
Sanji manages to look over his shoulder before the phone is back in his grasp. “Oh. It’s a BDSM test.”
“That’s what I said. A sex test. Hey,” Luffy’s face screws up, “What’s a rope bunny?”
Fifteen minutes after Luffy has been exiled to his room, he’s still plugging in answers. Ugh, this stupid test is long. There are all kinds of weird questions, sexual scenarios Luffy’s never even thought about before. Luffy’s tactile knowledge has come from self discovery, playing off of a partner who helps him feel good.
And out of everyone Luffy’s been with, Law makes him feel the best. He’s all long limbs and lean muscle, a low, smooth voice he uses to tease and molten gold eyes that can pin Luffy down like a butterfly on a corkboard. It’s like his body is hard-wired for sex and Law knows that, because he uses it like a weapon to get whatever he wants.
Not that Luffy can resist giving Law anything. Even if it means doing this stupid sex test.
Luffy huffs out a breath out of his nose. Shit. Now he’s thinking about Law. Luffy wants to call him, just to hear the way his voice would get all raspy, talking Luffy through jacking off until he goes cross eyed. Maybe Law would get himself off too, hold the phone between his thighs so Luffy could hear the squelching of his pussy.
Does sex over the phone count as fucking? …Maybe. God, this is annoying.
He’s too riled up to finish the test, so drops his phone to the bed and closes his eyes. Fantasizing isn’t his strong suit, but considering Law is basically a walking porn model it’s easy to think of him. Luffy let his hands trail down his chest, his sternum, fingers moving slow. Imagining they’re Law’s fingers, elegant and steady, trailing his stomach, and then lower. Teasing at the edge of his sweats, making him wait until he tells Luffy to be a good boy and fuck me raw.
A shiver rolls through him, from the crown of his head all the way to his curled toes. Heat pulses in his lower stomach, and Luffy’s fingers wrap around his cock. He’s harder than he should be with just the thought of him. He tries to tease, keep his touch light and easy, the way Law would. A whine builds in his throat, and he’s seconds away from giving up altogether and thrusting into his fist like he wants to when his phone buzzes near his face.
“Agh.” Luffy goes to toss it away when his eyes catch on the screen. It’s a text from a random number.
Unknown Sender: Hi, Luffy.
Unknown Sender: Thought you should have this. We’ll see each other soon. ;)
Unknown Sender: [http://sjgm.xm]
Luffy blinks. It’s definitely not spam, since the person knows his name. Did he give his number to someone? He can’t remember.
He wants to throw it aside and keep jacking off, but Luffy’s impulse control is zero on a good day.
He swipes open the phone and rereads the texts one more time. He’s, like, 59% sure this isn’t a scam. But! If he winds up with a virus on his phone, Franky will fix it.
The link sends him straight to a video embedded on a dubious looking website. There’s nothing else on the page except for this. It kind of reminds him of the porn sites Ace and Sabo used to look at. The video isn’t titled. The playtime is about half an hour, and the thumbnail is black. Luffy impulsively presses play, not really thinking. Wherever she is, Nami probably just got really, really mad.
The video opens in a neat looking bedroom. The bed is huge, dark maroon sheets and drapes that scream luxurious. Luffy doesn’t recognize it, and after a few seconds of silence is about to turn it off, until—
Law shows up on screen. He’s barefoot, dressed in a silky black bathrobe. He climbs on the massive bed, on top of the covers. He looks at the camera before quickly glancing away, ducking his head in the way he does when he blushes.
Law speaks: “I…don’t really know how to do this.” His voice is so quiet the camera audio barely picks it up. He fidgets on the sheets, playing with the tie around his waist. Without the signature snarl on his face, he looks… different. Soft.
He bites his lip. As if he’s nervous. The idea barely computes in Luffy’s head. Even when he's fucked stupid, he’s never seen Law act like this. It makes him seem younger. It’s so fucking cute.
Law must’ve gathered his nerves, because he looks straight on at the camera and tugs the tie. The robe comes undone in the middle, slipping off his shoulders. It goes slowly, inch by inch revealing miles of tan, tattooed skin.
And then he is naked.
Naked. On the bed.
And the video is still going.
Holy shit.
Holy shit?!
Is he—is this–!?
Luffy’s face explodes with heat, heart racketing inside his ribcage. He drops the phone and scrambles off the bed. They must have started the movie back up, because the apartment is dark when he flings open the door.
“TRAFFY MADE ME A PORNO!!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking that test?” Zoro calls back.
Sanji sounds far less amused. “GODDAMN IT LUFFY IF YOU DON’T STOP SCREAMING I SWEAR I’M—”
Luffy closes the door before he can hear the rest of Sanji’s threat. He grins like a maniac, clutching his phone to his chest so hard the screen might crack.
Law knew that sex test would get Luffy riled up. It’s the perfect tease, the promise of more to come, a dirty move that’s going to live in Luffy’s brain rent free for the rest of time. The unknown number is a little weird, but Law probably got a new phone. Ugh, exactly the type of thing Luffy would know if Law was his boyfriend!
Well. Who cares! Not Luffy! He flings himself back to the bed and kicks his feet wildly in the air. Phone sex might count, but this clearly doesn’t. Law probably meant this as a reward for when he’s done with the test. Whatever! Law won’t know he opened his present early.
Luffy forces himself to settle back on the bed. He licks his lips, restarting the video. He’s fully hard already and he’s not ashamed to admit it. What can he say, the sight of Law’s collarbones just does it for him.
Luffy’s already aching, precome leaking over his fingers. His eyes are glued to the screen, watching in rapt attention as Law strips himself bare again.
Law stares at the camera, and Luffy stares right back. It’s like he’s presenting himself, letting Luffy get a good, long look. Law looks so tiny planted in the center of crimson and silk. It’s probably just the bed, though—it’s huge, big enough to fit Law, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji on it.
…Doesn’t Law live in a studio? How did he get that giant bed in there?
One tattooed hand rises from Law’s hip, skimming over his torso, and all thoughts of bed physics fly from Luffy’s mind. Long fingers tease along a dusky nipple, Law’s sharp intake of breath mirrored by Luffy’s own.
“I thought about drawing this out,” Law says, his voice already husky and wrecked, “but I figured I should take advantage of the situation while I can.”
He shifts on the bed, sitting and spreading his legs wide without shame. Luffy’s mouth goes dry. It’s the perfect angle to see Law’s little cunt, pink and perfect. He’s so wet he glistens. Did he start touching himself before coming on screen? Or did just the thought of filming a dirty video get him going?
It doesn’t matter. It’s fucking hot.
Luffy groans and starts pumping his cock. Sweat breaks out on the nape of his neck. He feels delirious, dizzy. He’s never been teased like this, so blatantly denied, forced to just sit and watch. It’s cruel. It’s perfect.
Law’s fucking perfect, sitting there all pretty with his pussy on display. Luffy’s eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Law trails a hand over his hip and spreads his folds without hesitation. His hole twitches, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.
“I can touch myself however I want,” Law purrs, wearing a wicked little smile, “and you can’t do shit about it.”
Luffy doesn’t recognize the noise that rips out of him. It’s something akin to a growl. Something primal. Fuck, Law is such a brat. Luffy wants to tear through the screen and shove him into those sheets, plow his pussy until he’s begging for mercy.
Instead, he can only watch as Law trails his fingers up his slit, circling around his pierced little dick. Law shivers, then moans unabashedly as his fingers pick up speed. All pretense of shyness is gone, the audio catching every lewd squelch and breathy whimper. Luffy forces himself to match Law’s pace, the absurd amount of precome makes it a smooth glide.
“Are you fucking into your hand?”
Luffy whines and nods, uncaring at this point that this is a recording, that Law can’t actually see him. His voice is downright sinful, curling at the base of Luffy’s spine. His balls are tightening, his thumb catching on the head of his cock. He’s going to come soon. He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this pent up.
“I bet you are. You always call me a slut, but you’re just as desperate. I bet you’re already close. Fuck —” Law’s face screws up in sweet ecstasy, and he must be close, too. “You’re not going to come until I say you can.”
Shit. Luffy hisses, gripping the base of his dick. His orgasm is so close it’s tingling on his tongue. He wants it, but he wants to be good. To do what Law asks, to play the game that has been so expertly laid out in front of him.
So he watches, practically drooling as Law makes himself come. His back arches so beautifully as he rides out his pleasure, pussy quivering and gushing over his fingers. It’s unbelievable how sexy he is. His body is so lithe, eyes rolling back, knees trembling, moaning like a fucking porn star.
He looks like he feels so, so good.
It’s not fucking fair.
Law raises his head, eyes blown out and hair falling in front of his eyes. He shoots another smug look at the camera. “Pissed off yet?”
Luffy gnashes his teeth. He squeezes his cock harder. He feels like he’s going fucking die. He needs this—needs to mount, fill, take. Abuse Law’s pretty pussy until it’s all pink and puffy and drooling with Luffy’s come.
His hips jerk off the bed against his will.
Holy fuck. He’s going crazy. Law’s literally frying his brain cells. Luffy wants wants wants to be good, but he might crumble to dust if this doesn’t end soon.
Law moves again, tugging at his dick piercing before sinking two fingers deep into his tiny cunt. They glide in so easily. Luffy throws his head back, eyes rolling back. His dick is throbbing in his hand, the phantom feeling of Law’s hot and slick walls almost sending him over the edge.
“Mmh.” Law adds a third finger without preamble, spreading his legs wider. He stretches his fingers and squirms his hips, clearly having trouble finding the right angle. He’s only like that for a second, smoothly rising up to his knees, fingers still buried in his dripping pussy.
Golden eyes slip shut as long fingers pump in and out. Luffy could cry. This is so fucking hot. Law’s fucking himself on his fingers almost angrily, face pinched in a way that speaks of frustration rather than pleasure. He cants his hips down on the bed it’s like he’s got bills to pay, the smooth glide of his hips like poetry in motion.
“F-fuck,” Law gasps, “fuck you—left me empty, selfish prick—”
He lets out a high noise of distress, eerily similar to the sob Luffy heard at Barto’s party. It rings a dim bell in the back of his head, along with the thought that what Law is saying doesn't really make sense. Luffy should probably care about that, but he's so close.
“Fucking n-not enough, hah —need you—”
Law’s just babbling, higher thought checked out as he’s lost to it. He’s on the edge and Luffy’s right there with him, gritting his teeth, desperately holding on. His cock jumps in time with Law’s thrusts, his entire being locking into the rhythm.
Law’s fucking gorgeous. Luffy stares at the way his abs flex with every motion, the way his dark skin flushes. The noises he’s making are high and whiney, a tell tale sign, and Luffy knows he just needs a little more.
As if Law hears him through the wavelength, his free hand finds his cock, toying with the piercing. It glitters, caught on the light and slick from Law’s cunt. Law’s hips stutter, thighs shaking, jaw dropping open.
“Please please daddy wanna come let me —”
Law probably says more. Luffy doesn’t hear it. He whites out.
His orgasm tears through him like a flash bomb, earth shattering and bright. Spurts of cum shoot out of his fist, smearing on his shirt and the bed. Luffy drops the phone, steady pulses of heat tingling through every nerve.
Luffy’s chest heaves as he comes back to himself, staring at the ceiling of his room. His muscles feel relaxed, no longer sore from earlier, pleasant aftershocks sweeping through him.
Holy shit.
That…was quite possibly the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.
Drowsily, he picks up his phone. The video is still playing. There’s a shot of Law flopped back on the huge bed, arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. Then, the video ends. Luffy’s a little annoyed at himself for missing Law’s orgasm, but it’s fine. He’ll be replaying this thing a hundred more times tonight.
He’s sticky with sweat and cum. He wipes his messy hand on his shirt, then takes it off and cleans up the rest of himself with it. It’s dirty anyway.
Luffy opens his phone again to text Law. Screw the stupid sex test. Law’s going to answer for his crimes.
He’s surprised when he sees three more texts from the same unknown number. They’re all links.
Law filmed more than one?
Arousal comes roaring back through Luffy’s veins. He probably can’t go again so soon, but his dick seems to think otherwise. He picks a video at random. He’s going to be in for a long night.