Work Text:
“You never go into the woods or the sea alone.”
The storm holds Law’s heart in the palms of its hands. The harsh conditions of living in a lighthouse have taught him respect for nature and its ferocity. This night is not like the others, the waves crash to the light that sits at the top of the lighthouse and Law nervously paces as he tries to survey the bit of rock that he is on and the vast sea surrounding it. He can barely see anything. The rain is pouring like it is never going to stop and the waves seem to want to drown the entire rock and carry them to the bottom of the ocean.
This isn’t the first storm that Law has encountered since he was stationed at the lighthouse many months ago but this one makes him feel uneasy. Technically, he doesn’t need to be inside the lighthouse top, he could easily stay in his room, toss, turn, and worry inside the comfort of his bed, but something keeps him on edge. His toes feel frozen and he is shaking but his eyes are restless as they try to scan his surroundings to no avail.
He hopes that no ship is out there in the storm in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere near the coast in any direction, because if they are, even the light at the lighthouse won’t help them.
The waves crash mercilessly, the wind howls like an unearthly beast and if Law’s luck couldn’t get any worse - the light goes off. Panic surges up in Law’s stomach like bile and he turns back from the sea to the light. Quickly, Law paces around it to see why the light could be gone but nothing seems to be amiss. Fear twists in Law’s stomach - how could this happen? Right now, when the storm is raging? What if someone is close by and they crash against the rock he is on? Many what ifs appear in his brain while the seconds tick by and even though the cold seeps into every crevice of Law’s body, the sweat manages to appear on his forehead.
“Please work.” Law whispers, praying to whatever god is out there.
After a whole minute, the light comes back on and blinds him while his forehead is pressed on the glass. During his little panic attack, Law failed to notice that the storm didn’t just quiet down, it was completely silent out there for the whole minute. The storm rages on when the light comes back, and everything is as loud as it was before. Law lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His rational thoughts come back to him and he decides that there’s nothing he can do while standing here and freezing his ass off. He unlatches the lock and goes back down to his room.
Unbeknownst to Law, a body washes up on the shore.
-
Morning comes with a clear sky and the sun peaking over the horizon. The sun hits Law’s eyes directly and he puts his arms over his eyes to shield the sun away. The difference between the storm that happened merely a few hours ago and the sunny sky that hurts Law’s eyes now is staggering. His panic subsides and he mentally prepares for a new day of doing menial repetitive tasks - clean the room, clean the kitchen, check the light, oil whatever needs to be oiled, check for debris around the lighthouse, look at the beach, look at - Law’s eyes focus on something at the beach, something pale, something with two arms and legs, something with black hair.
There is a…There is a body. There is a body on the beach and it is not moving. It’s lying down, face smushed in the sand. He should have known that life was not going to give him a break. The panic surges up again as Law starts to dress as quickly as possible. His feet carry him over the flight of stairs and his breath quickens in distress. As Law is getting close to the body his eyes observe and his useless thoughts remark how the body hasn’t moved an inch. What if they are dead? Law’s mind helpfully supplies while he is losing breath running as if there’s a phantom at his heels. How could there even be a human washed up on the tiny bit of beach the island has? Where is the ship? The thoughts rapidly bounce around in his head, providing an even bigger headache than he already has because there is a god-honest body on the island and he can’t tell if they are dead.
Law skids down the rocks and lands on the sandy beach, his boots leaving heavy footprints in the sand. He crouches down to the body and flips the person around.
There is blood everywhere. Seaweed is tangled all around the body and Law begins to frantically remove it to see the person beneath it. The sea laps at their feet and some of the blood washes away and leaves a gnarly scene behind. Law, after frantically removing every bit of the seafloor that managed to attach itself to this person, finally gets a glimpse at their face. A young man is lying beneath him, a scar beneath his eye, and an X-shaped scar on his chest. His clothes are in tatters and the straw hat that’s somehow still attached to the young man seems to be mangled but somehow still intact. He is breathing, barely so, and the blood is still trickling from the young man’s wounds so Law does what he should’ve done immediately when he saw him - he carries him to the lighthouse.
The stranger’s skin is unbelievably cold, Law notices as he scoops him up, his arms dangle as if he’s a corpse and Law carries him to safety as the strangers arms dangle limply as if they are playing a tune of their own making.
-
Inside the lighthouse, Law lays the man down on the bed. He would’ve cringed at the blood seeping into the covers but at the moment, he cannot be bothered because the man might not even live. He gets down to business - he washes away the blood from his body and prepares the needles for stitching up. Since the blood has been washed away, Law notices that the biggest problem is the throat, the skin looks positively mangled. The rest of his body is littered in deep cuts but none looks as damaging as the man's throat. Law prepares numerous amounts of gauze as well.
-
After stitching the young man up, Law realizes he is thirsty and downs a couple of glasses of water. He takes another glass and fills it up with water and puts it by the bed on the nightstand. In his frantic stitching and bandaging, he didn't have time to properly look at the man in front of him. Now, with the blood away, Law takes a closer look. The young man has shaggy black hair and he is a lot shorter than Law. Law can’t help but notice the old scar beneath his eye and the slightly raised X-shaped scar on his chest. His hand reaches out towards those scars but he hesitates as his brain tells him to pull it back. Law’s brain is telling him no but his body is moving forward. His brain loses the fight as it justifies touching the stranger by saying that surely the man won’t feel anything if he didn’t feel anything during the stitching up.
Law traces the scar beneath the man's eye and the man doesn’t move an inch. With a sigh of relief, Law traces the scar on his chest. That one is a lot bigger and seemed like a life-threatening injury. Law hopes that if the man managed to survive that, he will survive this too.
The stranger keeps sleeping and Law decides that he has idled too much already. Someone needs to take care of the lighthouse.
-
The sea is unusually quiet after such a raging storm, so Law doesn’t miss the sound of a crash coming from inside the lighthouse. Law’s feet carry him quickly to the room where the young man was lying but he quickly realizes no one is there anymore. The covers look like they were hastily pulled off and thrown on the floor in a hurry. A crash is heard once more - this time from the direction of the kitchen. Law runs inside the kitchen and at first, he can’t see the young man, but what he can see is his chair thrown to the floor, the pans scattered all over the place and the pantry door open as if somebody tried to take it off its hinges.
Then he hears a sound. At first, it sounds inhuman. Gorging sounds, ragged inhales, and exhales. A sound as if someone is choking. Law tentatively opens the pantry door and looks down. The young man is sitting in a pile of food, half-eaten pork on the floor and Law can’t help but wince at his stock of food being thrown around. Law can only see the back of the man’s head as he forcefully shows a handful of whatever food he has - be it peas, uncooked rice, or uncooked beef. Next to his leg, there are eggshells and Law’s brows furrow and it dawns on him that this man is eating everything raw. Law pulls him by the arm and twists him around so they are face to face. The young man looks back with a ferocity one wouldn’t expect from someone who was grievously injured last night. His mouth hangs slightly agape and his teeth are barred.
“Hey, slow down.” Law cautiously says.
The young man keeps staring. Law can’t help but notice how round the stranger’s eyes are now that he is not asleep anymore. They are pitch black and Law wonders if he has ever met anyone with eyes as sharp as these. He makes himself stop wondering about things such as those and decides that his pondering can take a backseat to what really matters in this moment.
“Are you in pain?” Law raises his hand and the man grabs him by the wrist tightly. He wants to pull his hand back but quickly realizes that the stranger has a firm grip.
“I do not want to hurt you. Your injuries are bad and your pulse was really low last night.” With that, Law extends his hand toward the stranger’s throat and presses two fingers to the pulse. The pulse beats steadily as if the stranger wasn’t almost half dead some twelve hours ago. Law’s lips stretch in a short, tired smile. A strong heartbeat and a healthy appetite like that only implies that Law has somehow managed to stitch him up rather well, or maybe the injuries looked worse than they were. Law starts to move his hand away from the man's throat but as he does the stranger leans his head towards Law’s wrist and inhales deeply. His eyes that were focused on the wrist, flit back to Law’s eyes and Law can’t help but freeze as the stranger leans his face against Law’s hand.
Okay. That’s completely normal behaviour. Law’s inner monologue lies, but then again who is he to judge how normal human interactions are supposed to go? His last ten conversations were with seagulls. The man stares at him, hyper-focused, his mouth pressed into a thin line as if he’s waiting for Law to do something. Law can’t think of anything comforting to say, so he just resorts to wiping the man’s mouth from all the raw food he ingested.
The wide eyes follow his movements as he does it.
“I am Trafalgar Law. Who are you?” He asks as he helps the man to his feet.
The man just stares at him, his nose twitching angrily as his hand comes up to his throat. A croaky sound comes out of it when he opens his mouth and Law figures out that it’s probably futile to ask any question. His throat is injured and the possibility of the man being able to speak is low.
“T-” The man manages to say. Law’s eyes snap wider in shock.
“Yes, go on.”
“T-o-r-a-o.” The man clutches his throat once more, this time less gently than previously. It probably took a lot of strength to say that, Law thinks to himself.
“Your name is Torao?” Law asks as the man’s face twitches in a dissenting way. The man shakes his head and points at Law.
“I am… What? Wait? Ah .” Law’s face falls as he realizes what the man is trying to say. He can’t say his full name because of his injury, so he has shortened his surname to Torao. Law looks back at the straw hat that’s hanging at the man’s back.
“Considering that you can’t even give me your name, I am gonna call you Strawhat. Is that okay with you?” Law asks.
The man smiles back, his teeth sharp, on full display. Law would flinch if his hand wasn’t still clutched in the man's hand. The seagulls croak outside as Law slowly detangles himself from the stranger. For some reason, Law feels like he bit more off than he can chew. Surely it’s just his gut feeling being pessimistic.
Surely.
-
The waves crash against the rocks and the rain starts up again. Luckily for Law and the stranger he’s housing and trying to prevent from eating so much of his food, it doesn’t turn into a storm like the one that brought Strawhat to him. Since the Strawhat has arrived, Law has found out virtually nothing about the stranger. His behavior is odd. At times he tries to sneak into the pantry to steal more of Law’s food which’s been slowly diminishing and at times he stares at the sea like the food has never been on his mind.
When he looks at the sea, his expression is blank, his eyes are wide and whatever Law does or says to make him move from his spot, Strawhat never budges or seems to intake any information said to him. He looks like he is in a trance as if the sea is calling him and he needs to listen. In those moments pangs of guilt run through Law. His heart aches as he remembers the light going off in that one minute during the storm and he can’t help but wonder if that unfortunate moment made Strawhat injured and led him to end up stranded at the lighthouse with Law. Law tries not to dwell on it too long lest the guilt eats him alive.
Strawhat is strange all around. When he is not trying to raid his pantry or stare forlornly at the sea, he tries to weasel into Law’s personal space like a cat that’s slinking around your legs. Law lightly pushes him away when that happens but Strawhat just smiles his usual smile - which is usually his gums showing and teeth sharp and on display.
Law lets Strawhat be close to him when he’s changing his bandages. When he does that, the stranger doesn’t have his usual grin plastered on his face, instead a somber look takes over. Law writes down notes on his behavior because they might come in handy later. All his cuts and bruises are slowly fading but the one on the throat seems to be persistent. Even if the bruises are steadily fading, Strawhat can’t talk besides saying his name in the most incorrect way possible. Whenever Law checks his throat, Strawhat bumps his nose against Law’s wrist right where his heartbeat can be felt, all while maintaining eye contact with him. Law can’t help but nervously gulp as Strawhat attentively watches his every move, his black eyes staring into his eyes. A strange feeling stirs in Law’s gut. It’s been a while since somebody looked at him this closely. It’s been a while since anybody looked at him, for that matter. Law decides that this feeling is something he can ignore; he mentally berates himself for being so lonely on this outpost. What he decides to focus on is how Strawhat looks while he does this. He doesn’t look afraid of Law. That is not the look of someone who thinks that Law might hurt him. Strawhat watches him as if even if Law tried to hurt him, he couldn’t do anything to him. Silent, but amused would be the best way to describe it.
Law’s exhaustion seeps to his very bones as night falls. He puts Strawhat in the opposite cot next to his, simply to have him close by if his injuries get worse. Strawhat seems content sharing a room with him. Law turns towards him and says good night, and Strawhat grins widely as he always does. Before dreams take over, Law thinks how insomnia hasn’t been wrecking him since Strawhat arrived. He is grateful to him, even though there is no way that he magically made Law sleep through the entire night. With a small smile on his lips, Law falls into a deep sleep.
-
Hours tick by, and Law’s slumber is so deep that he dreams of waking up and seeing the stranger that he has let inside his home, standing in the hallway outside of their room, his eyes wide, a black chasm inside them, his mouth large and unrecognizable, the shape of his face twisting and changing. Strawhat’s hair rises as if an invisible force is pulling it up. When the moonlight hits Strawhat’s eyes, they reflect as if he were an animal and not a human, and with sweat beading on his forehead in terror, Law wakes up. He twists quickly and sees that the stranger is curled up into a ball on the cot opposite his, peacefully sleeping, lightly snoring, and the door that leads to the hallway is firmly shut, exactly how they left it when they went to sleep. Law exhales heavily and snorts derisively to himself. Even when he can sleep, he is haunted by nightmares. He asks himself why he is even surprised at this point. Law grabs the blanket he has pushed off in his fervor and wraps it around his body and goes back to sleep. Luckily for him, sleep takes him fast. Unluckily for him, he misses the sharp grin appearing on Strawhat’s face as he drifts into sleep again.
-
Days fade and nights grow, and the Strawhat’s presence in the lighthouse has made Law feel less lonely. Even though Law is plagued by strange dreams in which the stranger haunts the hallways and looms in nooks and crevices, Law has made it a point to ignore those insistent dreams. He isn’t much of a believer, but he wasn’t going to spit destiny or fate in its face. The Strawhat tires him out so much that his insomnia is almost a thing of the past. Sure, the nightmares plague him, but at least he gets a solid amount of hours in before he wakes up in cold sweat. Sometimes you just have to count your blessings.
Every morning, Law has made it a habit to check on the stranger’s bruises. He found it comforting to see them gradually disappear as days passed. The Strawhat has only gained new ones from jumping around the lighthouse and his, well, their room, and bumping into every piece of furniture there is. The bruises on his throat have since faded; however, unfortunately, that has not made Strawhat utter any more words than the butchered version of his last name, and when he laughs, he makes a grating noise that makes him cough. One thing that Law hasn’t checked is the inside of his mouth. He has been overly focused on the injuries on the outside that he hasn’t thought about the inside of Strawhat’s mouth.
“I am going to need you to open your mouth and say ahh .” Law commends.
“Ahh!” Strawhat opens his mouth for a quick second and then clamps it shut. Okay, that’s Law’s fault, he wasn’t super specific with that instruction.
“Open your mouth and say ahh for a bit longer, alright? I need to see if there are any wounds on the inside of your mouth. Okay?”
Strawhat nods and immediately does as Law tells him. Law exhales in relief as his words finally make sense to him as he angles Strawhat’s face towards the light. The stranger’s teeth seem to be in impeccable shape, which is a surprise considering all the things he shoves in his mouth. The back of his throat seems slightly damaged, but nothing that might be the cause of the fact that the stranger can’t speak. Strawhat is looking at him intently as Law looks at the inside of his mouth, and the corner of his mouth pulls into a devilish smirk as much as he can considering that his mouth is wide open. Law shakes his head in disbelief as he can only imagine what stupid things are going through the man’s head.
Right as he is about to tell him that he is done, Strawhat closes his mouth while Law’s fingers are still inside his oral cavity. Law just levels him with a stare.
“Let my hand go, you absolute idiot.” Law reprimands as the man only smiles and bites down a little hard. Alright, that’s…that’s strange.
“Enough with your games, let me go.” He insists once more, this time getting a little more alarmed as Strawhat’s teeth press deeper into his hand.
Law hesitates from pulling his fingers out because that might just cause him more pain, but he also doesn’t want his fingers to be inside Strawhat’s mouth. The asshole is staring at him and producing that grating noise that Law can only prescribe to possible giggling.
“I am going to pull my fingers out right now if you don’t let u-”
Strawhat opens his mouth, and Law looks down at his hand. The tiny indentations of the man’s teeth are visible, and then they get rosy, and then pinpricks of blood show up. Law feels ridiculous as he stares at the saliva and the small amount of blood on his fingers.
“You are so strange. Look at this. You drew blood.” Law shows his hand in front of the Strawhats' face.
Strawhat zeroes in on the blood and, in quick movement, licks the blood away from Law’s hand. Law can’t help but just gape at him.
“What the fuck?” Law stutters out quietly, more weirded out than in pain.
Strawhat only smiles and licks his lips, and starts tapping his feet against the floor.
“I am -” Law’s mouth is still hanging open as he looks back at Strawhat’s face, at his satisfied smile, and then back at his slimy hand.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
Maybe Law has started to lose his mind.
-
The food in the pantry is diminishing steadily, and Law’s concern grows at a slow but steady rate. He turns to the sea and decides that they can cut their losses by searching for some seafood. Strawhat seems unbothered as ever as Law takes him by the hand to the little bit of beach that they have on the outpost.
“Listen, you keep gorging on all the food we got, so we are going to eat something fresh from the sea. How does that sound?” Law says, and Strawhat looks positively elated as he jumps up and down on their way to the sea.
It’s been a while since Law has eaten seafood, but he has noticed that there are a bunch of sea snails, crabs, and shells on rocks around the island. Law wades into the water and turns back to the man who is skirting by the edge of the sea as if he’s unsure of whether he can enter.
“C’mon. You can enter. We are going to be in shallow water. We have everything we need here.” Law assures him, and Strawhat reluctantly enters the sea up to his ankle.
Law smiles tiredly while he takes out his switchblade and digs around on the sea bottom for a sharper rock.
“Take the rock,” Law says as he dumps the rock into his hands. “I am not sure how much I trust you with a knife.”
Strawhat scrunches up his face at that as Law beckons him closer.
“Look. These things that are stuck to rocks are edible. You have to take a knife and put it beneath the shell, and then lift it and unstick it. After that, you press it and then you can even eat it raw if you want, considering that seems to be your favorite, but we might want to save some for dinner later.”
Strawhat mimics his movements and lifts one of the patellas stuck to the rock, and Law sees the tiny smile on his face as he successfully manages to unstick the patella. Law is about to tell him that he did a good job when, instead of pressing the little entrails out, Strawhat presses them out, but he eats the entrails instead. The part that’s not edible. The part that probably tastes horrible. Law just stares in shock. There is no way that Strawhat didn’t see that he ate the edible part during his presentation.
Strawhat stares at him with wide eyes and a grin as he chews and throws the shell behind him, the sea rippling a bit as he does.
Law wipes the sweat off his forehead, hoping that it might seem that it came from the sun shining above them.
-
The wind howls and the raindrops fall down the window, the sound of it ricocheting gently in the room that Law and Strawhat share. Nighttime has fallen, and Law waits for sleep to overtake him, aptly preparing for another round of unsettling nightmares that have been plaguing his mind since Strawhat arrived. Strawhat has been doing his usual things since the eating patella’s entrails incident - gorging on his food, hanging off of Law’s frame whenever he can, running in circles, running after seagulls, trying to imitate the seagull's croaks, which he fails to do so miserably, resulting in screechy croaks. The day has drained him as he has done all the obligations he has for the lighthouse to run smoothly, while also keeping an eye out for Strawhat. The truth is he has never slept better, and Strawhat fills out the space in the rooms pleasantly, but the dreams…they keep haunting him, and it isn’t pleasant knowing that Strawhat, albeit an altered version, is the main character in every single one.
Law’s eyelids flutter shut, and before the darkness completely consumes him, he snuffs out the candle. He gets cozy in his cot and lets the darkness lead him to another set of dreams. The wind still howls, but the moonlight somehow peers through the windows and manages to illuminate the room. Law feels a slight breeze on his back, and his brows furrow as he sleepily turns to see the source of the goosebumps on his skin.
Law turns around and sees Strawhat in front of his bed, his hand gripping the end of the blanket and his knee pressing into the edge of Law’s cot. He can’t help but croak out something intelligible as he stares at Strawhat’s wide eyes and impassive face. Law wants to back out, but there is nowhere to back out to; his back is pressed to the cold, frigid wall. His moving away from the middle of the bed must indicate acceptance to Strawhat because in the next second, Strawhat smiles and crawls into bed with Law and shimmies as close as possible without touching.
Strawhat isn’t touching him or attempting to touch him. His hands are tucked beneath his head, and his wide eyes hold no malice or ill intent. Strawhat is not blinking, and Law is having a hard time breathing. He tries inhaling normally once more, but his breath hitches somewhere on the way from his throat to his lungs.
Law reaches out and gently starts pushing Strawhat away, but alas, he doesn’t budge. Matter of fact, he doesn’t even move a millimeter no matter how much Law pushes.
“You have your bed. There is no need for you to be in mine.” Law says, exasperated.
Strawhat continues to stare as if he has no issue with this because of course, he doesn’t. He just does whatever he wants.
Law tries pushing him not so gently this time, and this time Strawhat does move and almost rolls out of his bed, but manages to scramble back immediately under the covers.
“You are not going to move back to your bed, aren’t you?” Law says, defeated.
Strawhat just smiles, the corners of his lips quirking up. This is a battle that Law has already lost. To not lose more heat that has accumulated by the two of them, Law decides to simply give in. There is no point in trying to kick him out of bed.
When Law admits defeat, Strawhat lays his head down on Law’s pillow, and when Law lowers his head, their noses almost brush. His black hair is smushed down, and Law pushes down the warmth spreading in his abdomen. This is no time for that.
Law’s eyelids droop down, and the combined heat of their bodies lulls him even faster to sleep. He is knocked out cold in less than a minute, and Strawhat inches closer, his face split into a gigantic grin. He nuzzles his face against Law’s throat, peeking to see if Law wakes up, but all he does is scrunch his nose at the sensation. To tempt his fate, Strawhat drags his teeth against the sensitive skin on his throat, grazing it slowly. To his surprise, that doesn’t wake Law either.
With a satisfied grin, Strawhat loops his arm around Law’s waist and grins and grins and grins as he too drifts into a fitful sleep.
-
Strawhat continues to invade Law’s personal space during the day and night. Law tries to push him away the first few times when he tries to wiggle into his cot, but every time is a losing battle. Time passes and Law gets used to sharing his cot with Strawhat, reveling in the body heat that encompasses both of them during colder nights. After the initial pushback, Law starts to lift his bedcover for Strawhat to scoot in. Does Strawhat jump into his bed? He does. Does Law have to tolerate being smacked in the face in the dead of the night? Yes, he does. But at this point, the affection he has for Strawhat is starting to seep through, and even though he is annoyed as all hell, he would miss it if Strawhat went back to his cot. Besides the occasional smack in the face, as Strawhat tries his best to starfish in a small bed, they do not touch. Law keeps his hands to himself, and Strawhat usually does as well. Except for one night when he was singling out Law’s grey strands and lifting them and inspecting them and making whatever gargled noises he usually makes. The gargled noises sounded delighted, so Law decided not to make a big deal out of it. He is not that old, a life of stress has made those emerge.
All in all, Law gets used to another presence in his bed, and then night falls and stars fade, and then Law wakes up. Beads of sweat erupt on his forehead, and the tips of his fingers feel frozen. A jolt of panic zips through him as he realizes that he isn’t in his usual sleeping position, but that his hands are above his head.
His eyes feel glued shut, and it takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. There is firm pressure on both of his hands, and his eyes follow the source of it. Clouds clear and the moonlight seeps in, and Strawhat is above him, one of his hands firmly pressing Law’s wrists down into the bed. Law feels the pressure but feels no pain, and his eyes search for the expression on Strawhat’s face. His face is not like how he is in Law’s dreams - there is no unnatural expression twisting on his face, and his eyes aren’t the deep chasms that chill him to the bones. Strawhat isn’t grinning either. His face is serious, his eyes searching.
The sea outside is wild, and the waves crash and crash and crash, and inadvertently, Law’s muscles relax as the fog from his sleep seeps away. The jolt of fear leaves his body as Strawhat keeps holding him in place. The expression on his face is one that Law has seen many times. Strawhat isn’t starving, but he can always eat some more. The waves crash against the rocks, thunderous and booming, and the weather outside seems terrifying, but Law cannot feel the fear of it. Even though his muscles are somehow relaxed, his mind is not. Strawhat’s eyes are laser-focused on him as his right hand continues to hold his wrists above his head, and his left hand finally moves. Law's eyes dart down, and he sees Strawhat lift his leg, the pressure that built up about to be released as Strawhat leans forward, and it feels like Law is going to explode as his lower stomach twists and pulls and searches for some sort of relief, and then, reality seeps back. He is awake. That was… just a dream, Law thinks to himself. He feels tingling in his hands and tension in his lower stomach. Law looks next to him, and Strawhat is oblivious to the world, knocked out cold. Law feels his heart beat fast and a headache looming at the front of his head. Strawhat is drooling a bit, and his hand is sleepily tracing the tattoo on Law’s chest.
It seems that the dreams have taken a different turn. Law can’t help but blame the loneliness that was omnipresent in every crevice of his life before Strawhat arrived. The feeling in his lower abdomen still isn’t going away, and he presses his fingers down to relieve some of the tension. Does it work? Most definitely not. Law exhales slowly and decides the best course of action is to go to sleep. As sleep overtakes him again, the storm continues to rage on outside.
-
At this point, Law can’t help but think that he has finally lost it. He can’t tell what's real and what’s a dream anymore. Strawhat’s behavior implies nothing out of the usual. He behaves like his usual self. The two of them wake up with their legs tangled and Strawhat’s hand glued to Law’s chest, right where his tattoo is.
It’s hard to decipher what Strawhat wants to do to him. Law is at the same time terrified and comforted by his presence. The two of them can't avoid each other, and Law finds it difficult to even think about whether Strawhat presents any sort of danger or if it is just his mind acting up and blaming the only person around him for nothing at all.
While Law does his duties around the lighthouse (Strawhat doesn’t help because once Law tried to make him do something, he almost burned the entire lighthouse down), Strawhat goes around, following Law in his footsteps, always in the near vicinity. At first, Law found it charming, but the treacherous voice in his head tells him that Strawhat is waiting, but waiting for what, he can’t tell.
Law’s apprehensiveness doesn’t go unnoticed. Strawhat scrunches his eyebrows every time Law tries to duck away from any sort of physical contact. There is a pout on his lips, unbecoming for a man his age. Law wants to comment on it, but keeps his words to himself. Strawhat doesn’t need to know the amount of paranoia cursing through his brain. He is levelheaded, he is, at all times, so why the fuck is he doubting himself about what's real and what’s not?
Law cleans their plates and carefully places them on the rack. He can feel the hair on the nape of his neck rise, and there is a presence behind him. He slowly turns and sees Strawhat standing right behind him, his face slightly angry and his pout even more prominent as he looks down at him. Law wants to say something, he wants to make an excuse for his behavior, half out of fear and half because he doesn’t like seeing Strawhat without a smile on his face.
Strawhat reaches out toward him, and Law wants to flinch away, but the corner of the sink hits his back. There is a second of hesitation before Strawhat wraps his hands around Law’s waist.
Law stares down at him and his hands twitch uncertainly before he wraps his arms around Strawhat. What else is there to do but to match his breathing and feel his heartbeat echo against his skin?
Strawhat puts his head to Law’s chest, and if Law was any stronger, he’d push him away. But Law is not strong like that, so he presses him closer.
-
Law is splayed out on his back on yet another day of the week. What day is it? He can’t tell at this point. The sun rises, and the frigid air makes him shiver, but Strawhat, who’s above him, seems to pay no attention to his surroundings. Seagulls crow outside while Law lies on the bed with his shirt half unbuttoned, Strawhat above him, lazily unbuttoning the rest.
When he finishes with the shirt, he continues with the rest. Instead of taking off his pants and then his underwear, Strawhat takes it all off, and considering that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this, Strawhat actually uses his hands to do it and not his teeth after Law got way too flustered one of the previous times it has happened.
Strawhat traces his hands over Law’s legs and situates himself in the middle of them, his hands moving in soothing motions over them while his eyes rove over Law’s body. His eyes are glued to his chest tattoo as they almost always are, and the identical scars that are right below his pecs.
The first time Strawhat undressed him, Law searched his face for some sort of reaction, but Strawhat didn’t look surprised at all about how Law’s body looked. Law was prepared to put his walls up in case Strawhat did anything untoward, but the only thing that mattered to Strawhat seemed to be how close he stuck himself to Law’s body and dragged his sharp teeth against his skin.
The nightmares that Law had, had continued, and at this point, he knew that Strawhat was the one causing them. His presence and perhaps his nature that Law didn’t understand made those dreams appear in which Law was about to be eaten or destroyed. Those nightmares stopped being of any importance when Strawhat was licking into his mouth in reality. The truth was, Law had made peace with whatever creature Strawhat was. He most definitely doesn’t seem completely human. What type of creature he was, Law couldn’t tell, and at this moment wasn’t interested in finding out, as a gasp broke past his lips as Strawhat's teeth lightly bit the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
Strawhat never fucked him and Law was confused by it at first but later figured out that Strawhat just doesn’t seem much interested in that. What he was interested in was rubbing himself all over Law’s body and rubbing his dick against Law’s cunt, mixing his precum with Law’s slick.
If this were any other situation or another person, Law would be disgusted by the amount of saliva that Strawhat left on his body, but Law has come to terms that Strawhat is just a weird creature. A weird creature that makes him cum daily, so Law couldn’t find it in his heart to resent him.
Now, Strawhat presses himself bodily against Law and moves the two of them in tandem, pushing and pulling both of them like the tides. At times, his motions are frantic as if he can’t decide whether he wants to drag Law’s bottom lip between his teeth, knead at his butt, or lap at the slick that runs down Law’s legs. Strawhat’s frantic motions remind Law of a person who is presented with a table filled with food, a buffet where you can’t decide which food to begin with.
Strawhat bumps their foreheads, and they breathe into each other’s space. Law moves his hand from Strawhat’s shoulder and cards his fallen sticky strands away from his face. Strawhat grins and moves down and captures Law’s lips, and Law would be lying if he said that the way Strawhat kisses could be classified as someone with a lot of experience. Strawhat doesn’t seem to care about how sloppily he leaves his saliva anywhere and Law wants to pretend like he finds this gross, but when he is caught up in the moment, the way Strawhat moves him around and hungrily bites at his lips and sucks his tongue stop to matter.
Law lifts his legs and interlocks them behind Strawhat’s back. Strawhat collapses not so gently on top of him, his hips moving up and down slowly as his dick rubs against Law’s stomach. He starts nibbling on Law’s pulse point, and Law can’t help but huff his laughter out. Strawhat lifts his head.
“Trying to eat me again, Strawhat?” Law says lazily as he meets Strawhat’s lazy thrusting.
At his comment, Strawhat's eyes take on a sharp note, and Law can’t help but grin. Law unhooks his legs from his back and grabs Strawhat by the hair.
“Don’t feel bad about it.” Law says, “But if you feel some sort of way about it, here’s how to fix it.”
Strawhat lifts his eyebrow in confusion as Law pushes his head down and down until he is level with Law’s groin. Understanding dawns on his face. He doesn’t need any further encouragement as his hands spread Law’s thighs further, and his tongue sucks in Law’s clit, his tongue going in circular motions just the way Law likes it best. Law’s head falls back on the pillow as Strawhat pulls moans out of him and lies there in bliss.
-
Strawhat traces Law’s scar with utmost gentleness. One that is not usual for the way he handles things. The two of them had a fair share of throwing each other around while sharing playful kisses and dragging their teeth against each other's skin, but this time they were somber. There is something in those big black eyes that makes Law slightly nervous. This is not the type of stare that greets him every night in his dreams, nor the one he usually sees during the daytime. There is a shift in his behavior, and Law can sense it.
“What is it?” Law speaks quietly. The words float away like particles of dust.
Strawhat straightens out and looks out of the window. Law follows his movements, and the thin sheet crumples in his lap. The two of them stare out of the window. There is a dot on the horizon, and it is steadily approaching. Strawhat’s face goes from somber to hyper-focused. As the dot approaches, Law can see that it is a ship. One with a jolly ranger on it. A black jolly ranger. One with a straw hat on it. Law looks at their pile of clothes scattered on the ground. His shirt, pants, hat, and Strawhat’s belongings. Law’s eyes land on that red stripe on his hat.
“That ship.” Law sighs. “They are here to get you, aren’t they?”
Strawhat reluctantly moves his eyes away from the horizon and looks at Law with a beaming smile on his face. His head turns lightly to the side as he wonders about Law’s words. He grabs Law by the neck and presses his fingers lightly on the sides. Law can breathe normally, but the pressure is there. Strawhat still looks positively beaming.
Strawhat just motions between the two of them with his index finger.
Ah , Law thinks, and here he thought he would end up alone again. It seems that Strawhat has no intention of letting him go anytime soon.
There is a loud noise coming from whoever is standing on the ship, and Law can’t help but crack a smile. Of course, whoever is on that ship is a chaotic bunch. It’s only fitting.
Law pulls Strawhat closer by the waist and cards his hands through his hair. Their noses bump, and Law wonders who’ll be at this lighthouse after him.
Possibly no one.
It’s a lonely outpost anyway.
-