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There are moments when Sanji finds himself wondering, day after day, time after time, why his feet ever brought him to this town—and why they stayed planted here until the exit door closed on him.
The answer lies in the palm of his hand, and yet he casts it behind him, unaware that it is bound to his own palms, like the chain around his wrists. He is a prisoner to something that has seized him by the throat and left him dangling above a black void beneath him, drawing him down little by little.
His mind screams at him to cut the rope, to break the chain, but he keeps staring into the abyss, watching his body steep itself in the sea of that hollow darkness. It flutters over his feet and fingers until it reaches his throat, replacing the rope with a rat burrowing a nest in his neck, rending through his veins with a ghastly, seductive delight that leaves Sanji’s feet trembling with the dampness between them.
The town is that void, and Sanji, like many of its inhabitants, has lost control. Day after day, his feet carry him to that underground building, back to the same corruption he swims in until he shudders with lust, though regret is the only companion that remains afterward.
But all of that nearly vanishes when his feet finally stop at the door, when his eyes meet the guard’s, when the smell of alcohol grazes his nose.
And it disappears entirely when he meets those sleepy eyes once more.
"Heart Core again? Isn’t this the tenth time since your bundle? Hey, customer... I hope you haven’t become a fan. Your kind is terribly annoying."
His name was Law, but Sanji was not supposed to call him that in the brothel house. There, his name was “Heart Core,” a doll like any other doll—only more handsome than the rest.
Law, Law, Law. Sanji repeated the name several times, savoring it on his tongue and turning each letter over in his mouth. It was not a pretty name to spell, not in the way “Heart Core” said it when his forehead rested against Sanji’s, the cigarette between his lips brushing against the doll’s lips until it left a pink scorch on the lower one.
His breath smelled sour, tainted by the cheap liquor he had drunk, medicine for his wounded soul, meant to dull the ache of guilt that came with selling his body to clients. His half-lidded eyes, heavy with exhaustion, held molten gold swimming beneath tears that were meant to have dried long ago, but never did.
Sanji did not know why “Heart Core” had told him his real name. Perhaps it was the alcohol, clouding his judgment until his tongue grew reckless. Or perhaps he had seen something in Sanji and wanted it.
Perhaps this was all a ploy to make Sanji return again and again, curiosity and desire alike serving as excuses to forget the revulsion he felt when kissing a man.
Perhaps all Sanji wanted was to matter in someone’s eyes. to not be rejected the way his family had rejected him when he was still soft, before his body had stretched itself thin enough to break.
Law—not “Heart Core,” because the doll had not been present that night—told him he would never survive in this town, and that the eyes around them might turn against him one day if he did not have a government man to protect him.
And Sanji told Law that he would not survive either, especially not with that ass of his so wide open.
The man laughed in response, and his laughter was as soft as it was hysterical in that room. His chest shook as though he wanted to cry and laugh and vomit all at once.
When he finally stopped laughing, his eyes dropped to Sanji’s lips, teasing them before he slipped a finger between them, the cigarette falling away as he did. The taste of his thumb was sour and bitter, like semen. Sanji licked it anyway, even as the black-haired man frowned, his eyes shut.
“I’m where I want to be.”
It was a lie, a veil Law wanted to hide behind. It was easier to accept the cage than to try to break the chains that had already torn a nest into his arms.
Sanji and Law were too much alike, which was exactly why Sanji did not like the man in front of him. The sorrowful man whose insides had been ripped away until nothing remained but wet holes for his clients.
That was why Sanji wanted only “Heart Core,” and why he pressed a fresh cigarette between the man’s lips and lit it for him.
That was why Sanji forgot his regret when he saw those sleepy eyes looking at him as though he were Jesus.
That was why Sanji whispered the deepest desire he had carried since his lonely childhood into Law’s ear, as though his tongue were stroking a broken heart.
“Then let’s stay here together.”
Sanji met him when Nami and Usopp dragged him inside the building. He was supposed to be nothing more than a lookout, so they could steal the filthy rich bastards blind while they were too busy groping the staff’s asses to notice the light fingers slipping through their pockets.
Sanji thought it was a stupid idea, especially with the danger it invited. But he could not refuse Nami, with her sweet, determined eyes, or Usopp, who had tried his best to imitate Nami’s expression.
So all he had to do was press his back against the wall and make sure his friends did not get hurt.
That was all he truly needed to do.
But then he noticed, in the line of sight of one of the male workers, a dark-skinned man whose body was inked with tattoos that began at his arms and trailed all the way across his back. He had short black hair that gleamed silver beneath the lights, with a few strands tinted gold.
His entire body was glazed with tiny, glittering flecks, the light fracturing across them as though he were deliberately trying to be seen.
When the man turned toward him, he smiled at Sanji, his mouth curling to one side as if he were mocking him, or perhaps challenging him.
At that moment, Sanji’s mind went blank, crowded only with those golden eyes and that long, gleaming body.
But everything ended when the man turned away from him, one hand settling at his waist as he vanished into the crowd, until Sanji could no longer see him.
Anger and lust are not so different; both can fill a person until he forgets how to breathe.
When Sanji followed the male worker with short, strained breaths, perhaps it was anger that drove him, or lust, or both.
But it hardly mattered, because the instant he followed him, Sanji’s mind was already full of that sharp smile and those eyes that seemed to threaten him even as they tempted him.
And, after all, effects are what remain in memory. And “Heart Core,” one of the many sex dolls, waved him over.
Sex with him had always been suffocating, like some black hole that dragged him downward until it swallowed him into rot, corruption, and lust. It was a torment that made moans and screams meld together into the most abhorrent sound a human being could produce.
"Heart Core" had that effect on Sanji, with his conceited smile and his soft, practiced hands. The man had driven Sanji to climax more than once, until his mind ceased to function and every nerve in his body throbbed in protest.
No one had ever made him feel this way before. Perhaps sex was not what drew clients to ‘Heart Core’ at all. Perhaps it was the smile that perpetually adorned his face, the body that dared you not to abuse it, and the arrogant spirit lurking behind every action he took.
When Sanji had purchased his services for the first time, "Heart Core" had been gripping his neck, his sharp nails digging into the veins beneath his skin as though he wanted to tear him apart, as though he wanted to kill him.
Those languid eyes, so contrary to the violence of his grip, regarded him with agonising patience. His nails burrowed into Sanji’s throat, and all Sanji could do was gasp and try to pry the hands from his neck.
"Hold still."
The grip did not shift an inch. Sanji felt his head throb and heat boil in his stomach until warmth spilled from his member, pressing against the back of the male worker above him. His gasps deteriorated into wet, strangled gurgles, tears swimming across his eyes.
"Beautiful. Your face is beautiful now."
"Heart Core’s" praise was like the muffled purr of a cat in his ears, but Sanji was too occupied with the dryness in his nose, the way the choking sensation had begun to transform into fire around his throat, and the muscles that had gone rigid beneath the weight of the man above him.
For one merciful moment, "Heart Core" lifted his body from Sanji. In that instant, the pressure of his grip loosened enough for a thin breath to enter his exhausted lungs, forcing a trembling plea from his lips.
"Sto...p."
"Silence."
Suddenly, the warm weight of "Heart Core’s" body returned, his hips settling against Sanji’s thighs, their bodies pressed together. Sanji’s eyelids trembled at the sensation, his skin burning with heat.
"...Hah."
"Heart Core" exhaled with a faint smile, his eyes fixed upon Sanji’s face, which grew hotter with every passing second. The wet gurgling in Sanji’s throat transformed into a sharp, dry gasp, thin as a whistle.
"Red suits you. Just as I thought."
The man lowered himself, his lips brushing against Sanji’s swollen, vividly red mouth. Somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind, beneath a haze of confusion, Sanji felt the grip around his neck tighten, two fingers covering his veins and crushing them without mercy.
One kiss followed another, and with each one Sanji’s thoughts grew hazier. Dark bubbles clouded his vision, yet those languid golden eyes remained, staring down at him with feral hunger.
Slowly, Sanji felt the fingers of his hands tighten. His muscles gone rigid as well, his eyes falling half-shut. He realized that he might lose consciousness at any moment, but the haze left his mind floating, making him wish that it would possess his entire body.
Then the grip suddenly loosened.
His eyes flew wide as air flooded his throat and lungs. The coughing that forced the breath from him felt like a knife driven into his throat, scraping deeper with every spasm until he was forced to hold his breath to keep himself from vomiting.
"Don't throw up on the bed. I will actually strangle you if you dare," "Heart Core" threatened with a frown on his face, before leaning away from Sanji, his erect dick still rubbing against Sanji's with every movement.
"As if you didn't al-already do that!" Sanji gasped, clutching his throat, feeling his skin burning as though it had been torn. "You bas-tard! This hurts-!"
The male above him smiled lazily before shifting his thighs. The long slide along his dick caught Sanji's breath in his throat, making his lips tremble. It felt as if his length were on a merciless fire, and any touch would leave him shivering in fear of the shadow of pleasure.
"...Maybe not that painful if your dick keeps leaking, hmmm?" The male chuckled to himself, his hand moving to caress Sanji's neck and the bruise his fingers had left behind, his index finger tracing circles around his Adam's apple. "Heart Core" murmured, his eyes half-lidded, "I told you... red suits you."
The male lifted himself before slowly coming down again, his dick sliding over Sanji's sensitive shaft, from head to base. "Heart Core" exhaled heavily with his eyes closed, while Sanji gasped, biting down hard on his lower lip.
"Heart Core" leaned back, his hands gripping his client's knees for balance. His lazy smirk dissolved into a faint frown, his gaze fixated on their length.
Moving his feet, the male lifted himself back before slowly sinking forward, rubbing their shafts together. The slick sound of wet skin dragging felt magnified in Sanji's ears.
The sleepy-eyed man kept up the same rhythm until Sanji's shallow gasps dissolved into a loud groan. Sanji's blue eyes remained locked on his own dick, which twitched lightly with every slow stroke from the other man's shaft. Its tip had flushed a deep red, pre-cum still leaking continuously from the slit.
When Sanji looked up, he met the male worker's eyes, which had grown glossy as well. A soft blush painted his cheeks, sweat dripping from his short black hair. The hot, heavy breaths escaping his lips mingled with Sanji's, and as their breath synchronized, Sanji was the one who reached up, grabbed him by the hair, and crushed his lips against the other man's.
The small, surprised sound that escaped "Heart Core's" lips was the exact response Sanji had been desperate for. The subtle quiver of the other's lips against his own sent shivers straight down his spine until his nails nearly dug into his scalp, pulling him closer until their breath became one.
The embarrassing noises Sanji knew he kept making faded into the background the longer he kissed the male worker, who began matching him with a desperate heat. His hands slid around the blond's neck, sucking on his lip before forcing his tongue into Sanji's mouth.
Their tongues tangled in a struggle for control of the kiss, but "Heart Core" overpowered him. Slipping a hand down from Sanji's neck, he pinched and tugged at his erect nipple between his nails, drawing a soft muffle from Sanji into his mouth. Sanji's hand trembled away from the heat of his sweat-damp hair, resting instead on his shoulder.
This was the one moment Sanji allowed himself to forget his pride as a man, opening his mouth wider so the worker could kiss him with greater ease. And as the other man did just that, effortlessly, overwhelming his client with fiery intensity, Sanji stopped thinking about regret, the ghosts of his past, or the revulsion he knew would inevitably wash over him once his senses returned.
Everything he wanted, and everything he was being given, was contained within this stifling room, darkened by lust, despair, and everything Sanji hated. The hand pulling him under and trapping him here belonged to the doll with the golden eyes. And Sanji didn't want to fight that hand.
The man kept kissing him and tugging at his nipple with a skill that made him shiver and moan, affecting him so deeply that his dick throbbed and hardened until its veins bulged along the sides. Sanji whimpered weakly, closing his eyes as tears glistened on his lashes, his fingernails digging deep into the other man's shoulder.
When lust completely overtook him until his member spurted thick, white fluid, Sanji froze in the man's grip. The loud gasp that dissolved into the other's mouth meant nothing as "Heart Core" continued to kiss him with the exact same earlier fervor, sounding like mere background noise against the fiery sensation that consumed and blinded him.
Slowly, "Heart Core" moved his hand down from Sanji's chest, targeting his length, which twitched and remained erect with every explosive spurt of hot seed.
Sanji felt a smooth palm wrap around his shaft, his muffled whimpers vibrating against the other's mouth as the hand began moving up and down. He stroked Sanji's sensitive member until his knees trembled from a pleasure that was quickly morphing into a burning distress.
"Nngh...!"
Yet "Heart Core" didn't stop. He kept pumping Sanji's length until the pulsing organ trembled downward, a warm and delicate weight in his hand, as the trail of white fluid slowed and tapered off.
Afterward, "Heart Core" sucked on his tongue for a brief second before stepping back from Sanji. He left the blond gasping for air with swollen, reddened lips that had been thoroughly bruised by the harsh kiss. Tears slipped from his hazy eyes as he stared at the white mess spread across his stomach.
When Sanji looked up, he was greeted by the male worker's smile, accompanied by a pair of eyes staring down at him with burning disappointment. Sanji exhaled deeply before pressing a palm against his chest to push himself away, swinging his legs off the bed with a heavy, bitter scowl.
"How adorable. " "Heart Core" mumbled in his usual voice, a tone dripping with a faux charm and soft submission that felt absurd to the ear, especially as Sanji recalled how easily this bastard had choked him like he was nothing more than a toy.
Sanji averted his eyes, rubbing his neck with his palm. He recalled the exact feel of that grip around his throat and the eyes that had stared down at him as if his pain didn't matter in the slightest. A shudder ran through Sanji, filled with a brief moment of terror combined with another emotion that made his stomach turn.
For a split second, it reminded him of his brothers' eyes. Yet "Heart Core" held no pure hatred in his gaze like they did. Instead, sadism and exhaustion existed side by side in every single move he made.
Once those thoughts cleared and the trembling in his knees and member finally subsided, Sanji looked up to meet those eyes once more. The other man leaned forward until his chin rested on the front of his tattooed chest, watching Sanji with an impatient, bored expression.
The first emotion that struck Sanji was terror, followed by anger, then fear, until it settled into deep disgust.
Sanji stood up abruptly, his chest feeling as though it were shrinking, pressing hard against his heart and forcing tension to fill his entire body. His neck still quivered at the lingering memory of those hands and the ghost of the rope tied around it.
Those golden eyes looked like a black hole for a split second, yet felt like the edge of a shore welcoming him, complete with a gentle breeze whispering in his ear.
The lingering feel of those lips against his, the hand that had caressed his throat, and the weight resting on his thighs only served to heighten his disgust—both toward himself and the man before him.
The worker's eyes widened in surprise as Sanji pulled away to get dressed.
"Wait, are you actually leaving already...?"
Sanji ignored him, attempting to forget the rope bound around his neck.
Yet he had been choked to death, and the sea had dragged his body under until he belonged to it entirely.
Because even as Sanji ran away, his heart screamed at him to go back.
Law's eyes carried a heavy burden of worries, the kind Sanji usually preferred to ignore so he could savor the man's body without a guilty conscience. But naturally, turning a blind eye was difficult when Law rested his head on Sanji's thighs, and Sanji's hand gently brushed the dark strands away from his eyes.
On this night, the man before him wasn't wearing the mask of the doll "Heart Core." Instead, he came with his soul stripped bare. The pain in his eyes and the numerous bruises coating his body, stretching from between his thighs all the way to his back, became something impossible to avoid this time.
Because of that, Sanji didn't dare order him to spread his legs. He settled for the man's mouth instead, and Law seemed to relax afterward, his eyes drooping before he settled between the blond's knees, letting his jaw go slack.
Law hadn't hurt him again since what happened on that first night, as though he had completely lost that sadistic gleam in his eyes. Sanji refused to ask him why, just as he refused to face the truth that he actually missed the feel of "Heart Core's" tattooed hands around his neck.
Yet he didn't even need to ask, because Law was the one who spoke first. He lifted his head from Sanji's thighs to rest it against his shoulder, staring directly at the clear skin of his neck, completely devoid of any bruises.
"They're finally gone."
The tone of his voice didn't sit well with Sanji, filled with a relief so deep it made his voice sound silky to the ear. It wasn't "Heart Core." it couldn't compare to "Heart Core" at all. Perhaps that was precisely what bothered the blond so fiercely: the thought that he might never see that specific gleam in the other man's eyes again.
"Finally...?" Sanji muttered, repeating the word with a huff, his brows furrowing downward before he added with irritation, "Why did you even do it then? Pain was gnawing at me for days because of you, you jerk!"
The soft chuckle right beside his ear sent a shudder down his spine, as he noticed the lazy smile spreading across Law's face while his hot breath tickled the side of Sanji's neck.
"Heh... isn't that a good thing?"
"Heart Core" had many traits. First, he was a lewd brute who delighted in pain, whether inflicted on others or on himself. Second, he was selfish, always saving his own skin before anyone else’s. Third, he was a wretched drunk, worse than Zoro, to the point that he would've nearly poisoned his own liver if Sanji had not stopped him with threats. And finally, he was a pervert who could only love himself when others were praising him.
Trafalgar Law had many traits as well. One of them was that he was a sadist who liked watching others tremble beneath his gaze. He loved vivid colors, even though his wardrobe held nothing but dark clothes suited for funerals. And he was a kind-hearted rogue, unable to do anything but save others even when he had no obligation to.
Two faces of the same coin, the near shore and its farthest edge. Yet both of them planted in Sanji a lingering unease he was slowly realizing he could not rid himself of.
"Heart Core" reminded him of a razor’s edge, of the adrenaline that made him see life’s vivid colors in all of it's beauty and ugliness. "Heart Core" was the kind of memory that refused to leave a person’s mind. A man whose smile measured your worth to him, and how close you were allowed to come.
Trafalgar Law reminded him that the black sea of the abyss was never paradise, but waves without an end, cresting one upon another. A corpse atop a corpse, a nightmare atop another nightmare. And Law would not even shut his eyes beneath those waves.
"Then let's stay here together."
Sanji had already chosen what he wanted. The rope would not disappear.