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It’s not unknown that Law is a professional. He’s an organized person, very thorough in his work, rarely lazy. Law has his fun like any person in their mid-twenties does, not very often considering long hours and too little sleep. Law makes due on what he has and without complaint, focusing that energy on the homes he puts his time and effort into.
Law’s aloof nature goes unnoticed to the blonde who is currently sitting in front of him. One by the name of Sabo, adoptive son- in very loose terms- to the man he works for. Adoptive brother to the other two on his team. None of them are alike in any way, which comes as no surprise.
Though Law will admit he assumed Ace and Luffy were actually related at first. The shock that brought was enough to get Law internally questioning, but he didn’t voice his curiosities. The sudden appearance of Sabo soon after he started working at Sphinx was just as surprising, but no less thrilling. Law hates to admit but he took a liking to the man almost immediately.
The air Sabo had around him was a lot different than the other two he claimed he was brothers with. Sabo’s quieter, calculating in almost a terrifying way, meticulous enough to get Law shivering. It’s embarrassing, now that Law really gives thought to the idea. All Sabo does is walk around homes to inspect important parts of it, sit in his office to give his input on documents, signing off on them.
Law found himself thinking about Sabo more than he should have, wondering if he’s always so precise, knowing in all things. That type of easy-going indifference made Law want him. It’s rare if Law ever beats around the bush at what he wants, especially during times like this. Law’s always spoken his mind, and those perceptive blue eyes aren’t going to stop him now.
“I’m sorry,” Sabo muses, lips twitching up at the end, “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Yet the drawl of his tone shows he did, he just wants Law to repeat himself. Without a hint of shame, Law leans back in his chair, threading his fingers together. Sabo’s eyes zero in on the action, gaze unreadable at best, but god does it get Law hot all over.
“To be blunt,” Law corrects himself, laying everything on the table- or desk in this case, “I want you to fuck me.”
Sabo’s lips split into a grin, sliding a gloved finger across his bottom lip. Law’s watched those hands move expertly over woods and marble, glass, tile. Law’s seen him press on corners in a way that made Law imagine he was laid out underneath him. Those pretty hands of his caressing over his body, but Sabo’s gaze during those times dims in comparison to what Law thinks about behind closed doors.
“What a dirty mouth.” Sabo laughs, surprising Law by rising out of his chair.
The condescending tone makes Law’s toes curl, licking his lips as he looks up at the man standing before his desk. Sabo places a hand on top of a stack of papers, leaning close enough that Law can smell his cologne, practically taste the promises lingering in the air around them.
“I wouldn’t mind accepting,” Sabo purrs and Law’s compelled to follow, strung along by his unoccupied hand twirling Law’s tie, “you’re pretty enough, a bit too willing.”
Heat rushes through Law, humiliation sending a shiver down his spine. Sabo tugs on Law’s tie, the garment tightening deliciously before the contact is gone. Law blinks in a daze, aware that he is being a bit too easy, but it’s been months now. Days and weeks and hours where Law’s not acted on his desire.
“I can make it good for you.”
Sabo’s eyes widen slightly, flicking down to Law’s lips, his touch coming back in tenfold. Law can’t hide his moan when Sabo graciously yanks at his tie, hard enough to get them nose to nose. Law’s heart thunders in his chest, breath shuttering out of him. The shock is gone from Sabo, replaced with a hungry gaze, smile full of teeth in a threatening way.
“Time and a place baby,” Sabo says with a tease, dropping his tie to pat Law’s cheek, “give me that and I’ll try you out for myself.”
Law shouldn’t find that hot. Sabo’s speaking as if Law is nothing more than an object, belittling him in his own office, but Law knew he was like this. Law could sense it on him the same exact way as he’s done with any other man, but they dim in comparison to him. Sabo simply doesn’t care if Law’s offended by the humiliation, only himself, what Law can do for him.
Law’s barely nodded and Sabo is already turning on his heels, flicking his hand in the air as a goodbye. Leaving Law flustered and thinking about everything besides work.
· · · ·
Cerberus stares at Law almost boredly from where he’s perched on his window seat, peering at him with green uninterested eyes as Law fidgets. He’s aware he’s fidgeting. It’s been close to a week since Law offered his home, giving Sabo an open window time. Law, for some odd reason, found he had to leave it up to Sabo. If he was willing to come or go against what he told Law in his office.
Law wouldn’t have put it passed him. Sabo seems the type to like to see people squirm and Law’s as easy as they come.
Now here Law is with a stomach full of butterflies because Sabo agreed, and with every passing minute his eagerness only grew. Law has tried to picture scenarios on how the evening will pan out, but he knows full well it won’t go like any of the fantasies he’s had. Law wonders if a shot will ease his nerves, but he doesn’t want a buzz for this. The anticipation is what Law likes, the moment before it all starts.
The knock on his door is enough to startle Law, jumping in place and receiving a meow from Cerberus in return. Law closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, patting his cheeks to calm himself down even if it doesn’t work. It’s just Sabo, Law tells himself, he’s been around him for months. Law would even say they’re close, he has no reason to be this damn nervous.
Law waltzes to the door without much thought, his movements mechanical. Breath hitching when he opens it to find the man he’s been thinking about nonstop leaning against one of the pillars. Law says something, or he tries to, his mouth is open but no words come out. Sabo takes no time at all starting from the tips of Law’s feet, giving him a slow once over.
Law should’ve put more thought into his attire, but he wanted to be comfortable. Now he’s second guessing that. Sabo isn’t in his usual suit, but his dress shirt is still there, now opened enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Slacks molded onto his body. Law’s mouth runs dry when he finds he’s still wearing the gloves. A black pair this time, leather gleaming under the setting sun.
“Are you going to let me in?”
Law tears his eyes away from Sabo’s hands to find him staring at him with amusement.
“Sorry.” Law mutters dumbly, scooting out the way so that he can brush past him.
Law doesn’t know if Sabo deliberately does it, but his shoulder grazes against his chest and it takes a lot for Law to not drop to his knees right now. Even with the slight advantage in height Law curls in on himself, wanting to seem smaller, closing the door behind him with another intake of breath. When he turns, Sabo’s looking around his space with curious eyes, taking it all in silently.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Sabo snaps out of whatever daze he was in, looking over his shoulder.
“Not at all, I’m fine.”
For some reason seeing Sabo bend over to toe his shoes off gets Law even more nervous, stepping around him to walk into his space. If Law thought Sabo was going to linger behind, then he was wrong. As soon as Law starts walking, Sabo is following, placing his hand on the base of his spine.
“Pretty kitty.”
Law almost trips over his feet, flushing as he whips his head to Sabo’s.
“H- huh?”
Sabo’s not looking at him, but when he does his eyebrow is risen in confusion before the expression fades. He points a thumb next to him and Law’s eyes follow to where Cerberus is curled. He was talking about his cat. Law’s mortified, he can’t even hide how flustered he is, but he does his best by ignoring it, and the obvious gaze Sabo is giving him.
“Thank you,” Law replies a tad bit breathlessly, “he was a going away gift.”
If that’s what one would call him. Law’s sure Cerberus didn’t want to belong to anyone. Law understands him in a strange sort of way.
“You seem nervous Law.”
The thrum of Sabo’s fingers on Law’s body makes him want to moan, but instead he steers them to the couch. Not the bedroom, where Law desperately wants them to be.
“You’re trembling.”
Damn, he talks like he’s already fucking Law. Low and throaty, a rasp that has Law licking his lips, quickly straying to the recliner.
“I’m fine,” Law lies, wafting his hand to the couch, “you can just-“
“Hey now,” Sabo interrupts, Law’s eyes widen when his chin is held tightly, yanked up, “I was under the assumption you would make this good for me.”
Sabo’s lips are in a frown, staring down at Law with a certain air. Law wants to apologize, he comes close to doing so but the words die in his throat because Sabo speaks first.
“I assume you know why I’m here,” Sabo’s thumb traces Law’s bottom lip in an intoxicating motion, “if you wanted small talk, I could’ve saved you on a boring visit by not coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
The words spill out of him without hesitation, mumbled against the finger now pressing firmly on his lips.
“I don’t care for my time being wasted.”
Law nods obediently, eyes drooping the second Sabo shoves his thumb against his lips, prying Law’s mouth open.
“Besides,” Sabo hums, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.”
Law’s hands curl over the chair when he stops in front of him. At the perfect height to be lined up with his growing bulge. Law salivates on Sabo’s thumb, closing his lips around it to suck teasingly. Not wanting to waste any more of his time, Law reaches forward, intent on taking him out of his pants, but Sabo’s quick to tsk. Sabo doesn’t seem to mind Law accidently biting his thumb when he slaps him. It’s not painful, barely a flick of his wrist, palm lightly stinging Law’s cheek in warning.
“Take your clothes off before touching me.”
Sabo spits it out as if Law’s a dirty, dirty thing. Taking a small step back, Law almost misses the finger in his mouth, but he’s quick to stand. Sabo doesn’t, he walks enough so that he’s now sitting, arms outstretched on the top of the couch, legs spread wide enough for someone to fit in between them.
Law’s already hard, undressing himself with shaky fingers, breathless because of the scrutinizing gaze Sabo is giving him. Sabo says not a word when Law’s shirt is off, though his eyes do rake over his body. That’s all Law gets though, Sabo is impassive at best, staring boredly as Law slides his pants down to kick them off. Law’s thumbs are hooked in his boxers, blushing furiously because the grey color shows the wet patch staining the garment. Though he stops when he hears Sabo hum.
“Not yet,” Sabo orders lightly, pointing to the floor, “kneel.”
The first step garners a scoff, a roll of his eyes.
“Crawl.”
Law’s sure Sabo can see the way his cock twitches. Law’s head is fuzzy as he drops to his knees, flushing at the degrading act, but it feels so good. Having demands to follow, not having to think about what happens next because Sabo seems to already know. The distance isn’t far, it doesn’t take Law long at all to slide on hands and knees, glancing up expectantly when he stops in between Sabo’s legs.
“That’s a good boy,” Sabo ruffles Law’s hair as if he’s a pet, “you follow orders especially well. One wouldn’t expect it because of the title you hold.”
Yet Sabo says it like it’s not anything to feel accomplished about. Law wonders how Sabo does it, how he’s so easily able to switch off his teasing to something humiliating.
“You’re always so prim and proper,” Sabo smirks, “but this is all you want, hm?”
Law melts at the light scratching to his scalp, eyes drooping at the soft treatment.
“I can see why,” Sabo nearly purrs, “you look so pretty on your knees kitty.”
The muffled noise that garners from Law doesn’t even sound like himself. It’s quiet and pathetic, bringing a knowing smile to Sabo’s face. His hand slips out of Law’s hair, curling under his chin in a way Law would’ve never found arousing. But for some reason it makes Law want more, has heat coiling in the pit of his stomach, cock straining in his boxers.
“Do you want to make me feel good baby?”
Law doesn’t know why he moans but he does. The way Sabo phrases it making it like he’s the only one that’s meant for pleasure. Law nods all the same, falling pliant when his hand falls away to pat his thigh.
“Lay over my lap.”
Whatever Law was expecting Sabo to say or do was terribly wrong. Law counted on being shoved onto his counter, spread open on his bed, seated on his cock, anything to help him forget his name. Law didn’t think he’d be told to bend over Sabo’s lap.
“You’re thinking too much Law, if you want me to stop all you have to do is say stop.”
Law bites his lip, shuffling on his knees until finally coming to the conclusion that he does want this. He drapes himself over Sabo’s lap, head close to the floor, sternum and belly resting on both of his thighs, toes scraping the floor. For a second, there’s nothing but silence, save for the panting of Law’s breath and the beating of his own heart.
“You’re very proud, you know.” Sabo starts, and that’s not at all what Law was expecting.
Law furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip so that he won’t tell him to get on with it. And for good measure. Because Law is rewarded with a hand on his backside, only an idle caress as he continues talking.
“I must say it was the first time I was caught off guard,” Sabo sounds amused, “tell me something.”
Fingers suddenly latch and grip his hair, yanking hard enough to garner a hiss. Sabo is staring down at him with dark eyes, an easy going smile as if this is a regular day for him.
“What did you think I’d do to you?” Sabo muses.
What a question that is. Law has a number, but they all include the bedroom with both of them bare. Sabo above him, or Law straddling him, bent over in presentation. Deft fingers working him open, or forcing him down his throat.
“I- I don’t know.” Law croaks, keeping that steady gaze.
Sabo searches his, then tsks under his breath, dropping his head like he’s good for nothing.
“I’ll swat you until you spit it out.”
The words don’t register until a firm slap hits his ass, and instead of pain, pleasure blooms. Law moans unabashedly, hips trying to rise when he does it again, but a firm gloved hand settles on the base of his spine. Another sharper hit on his right cheek, and before Law can breathe, it lands on his left. Law sucks in a sharp breath, realizing, with slight embarrassment, how hard he is. It shows on the next smack, settled right between the cheeks, grazing his balls.
Law tenses, releases a rough whoosh of air, his body going limp afterwards. And from there it becomes torturous. Law can’t comprehend from one hit to the next, where it might land, how hard or soft it’ll be. Law just knows that his dick is straining his boxers, that tears are filling his eyes, and continuous moans are slipping out of him.
“What did you want?” Sabo is in complete control, not sounding out of breath at all.
A harsh slap lands on his upper thighs, and Law swears he almost orgasms.
“I-“
Another. A precise hit against both cheeks, and Law can feel the impact through his boxers, the sting on his skin.
“Now, Law. Tell me.”
How is Law to speak exactly if he keeps going, making him rise higher and higher, his hips desperate for more, his cock weeping for friction. Sabo reigns them down and Law is in pure euphoria, mouth hung open, drooling onto his own floor, toes curled in delight. The height of it all, the pinnacle, where it’s as if Law can touch the moon and stars. And then all at once, Sabo stops.
The man isn’t out of breath at all, or at least from what Law can tell, he’s too floaty to sense anything other than his own straining erection pressing up against his side. Law sucks in a lungful of air, the sting a glorious reminder of what is happening. How close he was to getting off on it, and feeling no shame because it helped him forget for once in his life. Sabo rubs, to ease the sting Law presumes, but it’s electric. Law is wired, serving no purpose, control slipping.
“Choke me.” Law whispers.
Sabo pauses in an instant.
“What was that?”
Sabo heard him. Law knows he does. But in his office where he sounded amused, this time Sabo is demanding, forcing Law to speak the unspoken. Law shuts his eyes tight, balls his fist.
“Choke me.” Law repeats, louder.
The air is still around them, that Law’s really not so sure if he did hear him or not. The movements have stopped, only the heat of Sabo’s relaxed hand on his ass is a reminder that the world has not hit pause. Sabo is still alive and well, and Law is still a sweaty, pathetic mess. Law swallows passed the lump in his throat, sniffling.
“Please,” Law murmurs, “choke me, please Sabo.”
Law fears he may run out right now, but before panic can strike, Sabo chuckles under his breath.
“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Sabo teases, and yes, yes it was.
Law does not have the right to ask for what he wants. If he did it’d be the world and every little thing in it, it’d be to forget, to remember the finer details. To soar and take flight, to not have regrets on going back. Fingers sweep his cheek without his knowledge, leather on water.
“It’s invigorating, isn’t it.” Sabo surmises.
“What,” Law’s voice is tiny, “what are you talking about?”
A hand curls under his chin, tilting his head upwards, and Law knows he must look a mess. His cheeks are blotchy, and tears strewn down them, eyes red from what Sabo may or may not be doing to him. But something else entirely.
“Living.”
And just like that, a vice closes in on his heart. Something tight and viscous, visceral enough to rip a sob out of him. Sabo shushes him, thumb catching each stray tear, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. The softest in a while, one that holds something, as if he tastes the tremors of his past. Surpassing the lifeless ones he chose to forget himself in.
“Don’t punish yourself through me.”
Law grits his teeth, wanting to be angry with Sabo, but he saw right through him from the start. Nothing has changed. He’s still that pitiful boy trying to lose himself in sunflower fields and Sibelius records, owning a cat with no name until he had the right to give him one.
“Don’t do this to me.” Law pleads.
Sabo grins, and it’s a sad one, perhaps a mirror of Law’s own.
“You’re doing it all to yourself.”
Law’s watery gaze searches his.
“Then will you,” Law chokes, “will you help me forget.”
Sabo stares at Law thoughtfully, still holding him in his palm. And it feels like comfort and warmth, stability and all the things that Law shouldn’t want. Sabo sighs.
“No.”
· · · ·
It’s weeks before he sees him again, or even wants to.
Law has avoided Sabo like the plague, which is an impressive feat, if he does say so himself. The unwarranted emotions and departure didn’t give Law time to bask in the fact that he was left with next to nothing. Except an open wound he tried to escape from.
When they were around each other. It was Law silent and cryptic, typing what he needed to type, saying what needed to be said, sending what needed to be sent. Nothing more, nothing less. Law woke in the morning and saw the reflection of the boy he tried to leave miles behind now staring back at him. The under eye bags came in tenfold, and he avoided the team at all costs, because this was work.
This was not a family to come home to, who greet you at morning and bid you goodnight. It’s simple. Plan, plot, get the job done, do it well, seal it off with a flash of a smile and then leave. Law has become accustomed to it, and he hated Sabo for trying to make it into something it wasn’t, because Law was fine. Is fine. He has Cerberus, who may or may not feel the same.
Law has a house, a place to shred off the days work and pour himself wine, and on particular ones, whiskey. He has Vivaldi, Rachmaninov. Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Magazines with accomplishments regarding his success at such a young age, and a waiting list for all of five months. Law is happy, he can’t afford to feel any other way, because then it’d become real.
· · · ·
A stack of papers slamming down on Law’s desk startles him, and Law frowns, turning ready to scold whoever it is that’s deemed themselves worthy of his anger. Only for it to simmer down seeing who it is. Unnaturally bright golden eyes glare at him, and Law withers slightly. It hasn’t been long since Mihawk and Shanks have come to Sphinx. A power couple in every sense of the word. Law wasn’t envious.
Not out loud, at least.
“May I help you, Mihawk?” Law asks politely.
He still hasn’t gotten a read off him. The brothers were as naïve as ever. Killer was no trouble, he asked no questions, only did what was told of him. Deuce was the same, not always present at the office, but always there when you needed him. Just like the others Law has met. Kid was about the only one Law enjoyed riling up. It kept his ever present dull life vibrant, cracking down on him, even if they both knew he did exceptional work.
Shanks and Mihawk were an enigma to Law. Where Shanks was happy to joke and laugh, to tease the others. Mihawk was quiet, observant. They were the oldest to Law’s team, and he doesn’t mean that in a rude way. They were wise, in a sense. Law respected them just as much as the others.
But right now, with Mihawk’s scrutinizing gaze, Law can’t say he feels the same exact way. Without saying a word, the older man walks towards the door, and he expects him to leave, but what he doesn’t expect is for him to close it. From the other side of the wall, he can see his partner, Shanks, smiling fondly. Law’s weary by the time Mihawk steps in front of him again.
“Forgive my rudeness,” Mihawk is curt, “but there’s a disconnection.”
Law furrows his eyebrows, glancing towards the papers he slapped on his desk. A slender hand is replaced with the words, and Law’s gaze snaps back to his.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a very intelligent man, I must give you that Law,” the way he phrases it doesn’t sound like he does, “you have an otherworldly team with a legend right above us. But there’s a disconnection.”
“I’m, I’m not sure I’m following.”
“You don’t miss a step, you take every precaution needed. You have a keen eye for even the slightest scratch of paint, I’ve seen you pick at the most miniscule thread on a canvello nain silkroad rug, and find a chip in antique limestone that was calculated at the date of 1877.”
Law’s confused now. Is this an insult?
“I-“
“And in every home. At the end of every trial and task, at the most pivotal of times for a home, the one that’s left to inspect is left by himself and handled by an unknown.”
Law’s mouth snaps into a sharp line. The reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Mihawk. Law doesn’t get the scolding Garp would give him, not the displeased hum from his uncle Kuzan. Mihawk stares down at him from the tip of his nose with complete and utter disdain.
“Fix it.”
And then he leaves Law sitting in his chair, befuddled. A war wind of emotions.
· · · ·
As childish as it was. Law didn’t want to make up with Sabo, he did nothing wrong. Law asked, was given a taste of it, and then taught a lesson he’s been taught one too many times. But Law knew Mihawk was right. Law neglecting him wasn’t going to go anywhere, so here he is at the ass crack of dawn in his office.
Law didn’t want him in his home, not after what happened. And doing it while his team was here didn’t seem right. Law could have asked him out for drinks, but again, he doesn’t know how it’s going to pan out. If Law might lash and make things worse, if Sabo might give up and go to some other company. He wouldn’t forgive himself, and he knows, while Garp might not state it out loud, that he’d feel some type of way.
Law taps his foot nervously, staring out of his window for any signs that Sabo will appear. Checking his watch, rechecking it, he thinks about walking out. What Law really needs is a damn drink, damn the time.
“That vantage point is your most vulnerable spot.”
Law whips around, eyes wide.
“You’re like a god amongst kings judging anyone who enters those doors,” Sabo laughs wryly, leaning against the threshold, “I almost find pity on them. If I weren’t one also.”
The words dig deep into Law, but he swallows them down.
“Good morning Sabo.” Law says, voice clipped.
“Oh, we’re going for professional then,” Sabo muses, “good morning Mr. Trafalgar, lovely weather isn’t it?”
Had it been anyone else, he’d take that as sarcasm, but Law is very familiar with his playful jibes.
“Just peachy,” Law deadpans, motioning for the chair, “if you will.”
Sabo’s lips quirk up into a tiny smile, closing the door behind him. Gloved hands get stuffed in his pocket, eating up the distance between them. A weight gets lifted off his shoulders when he sits.
“I’m aware I’ve been.. distant.” Law says carefully, he’s never been good with confrontations.
Sabo’s laugh is dry.
“If there was a stick in the mud, it’d be you.”
Law purses his lips.
“And you never take anything seriously.” Law whips back.
Sabo raises an eyebrow, “now that wouldn’t be the pot calling the kettle black, now would it?”
Law bristles.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Sabo levels Law with the same stare he did back at his home, and it unsettles him, has him shifting in his chair.
“Do I have to spell it out for you.”
It’s not a question, but an opening. Sabo is giving Law the reins on his misgivings, a chance to own up to the fact that things could have been different. Law has always been single driven, to not let anyone or anything steer him off course. Sabo takes that wheel and swerves it. Sabo unsettles Law.
“What exactly do you want me to say,” Law answers defensively, “that you’re right? Is that why you think I asked you to come here?”
“Why exactly did you ask me to come here? You didn’t do it for me, but for your own satisfaction. You’re a coward who can’t own up to what you want, so you choose a road that will lead to your own downfall.”
The words are like a slap to the face, and Law doesn’t know how to answer them. Both of them are silent, and it’s not a peaceful one. Sabo sucks in a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.
“Why did you ask me to come here, Law?” Sabo repeats.
Law’s tongue is heavy in his mouth, throat dry. He racks his brain for answers, something to come up with, anything. Sabo sits patiently, and Law hates him for it. They could go back to the bickering, but the atmosphere is tense, any word spoken now would break the ice. Law doesn’t need the validation of others, he repeats to himself, if only to make it true. Law’s silent resolve is met with a curt nod from Sabo, followed by him rising from the chair.
For a solid second, Law stays planted to his seat, watching him go. It’s easy that way, watching people walk out of his life, Law becoming nothing but a distant memory. Sabo’s hand gets on the handle, and Law’s ready for yet another disappointment.
“Don’t.”
Law doesn’t realize it’s him who spoke until Sabo freezes. Law’s heart clenches in his chest, fingers tense on the arms of his chair before finding the strength to get up. Sabo stays rooted in place, even when his own covers his glove.
“I-“
Law swallows the lump.
“I’m terrified.” Law admits, much too close, too intimate, too quiet.
Law’s breathing is shaky.
“I- I just wanted,” Law licks his lips, “wanted to feel.”
Does that make him greedy? He lost the only ones that he loved. Is Law worthy of living with the affection that they lost on that highway.
“And I hate myself for it,” Law admits, “my heart beats, and theirs-“
“You’re alive, Law.”
The very words Law didn’t want to hear are spoken, and his head drops to Sabo’s shoulder.
“Wanting to feel something doesn’t come at a price.”
Sabo’s voice is soothing.
“Wanting to want something isn’t a crime.”
“But?”
Sabo’s hair tickles Law’s cheek when he shakes his head.
“There is no but. It’s as simple as that. Validation isn’t a high price to pay, it’s your pride.”
Law releases a trembling breath, allowing the words to sink in. Sabo’s hand turns upwards, closing in on Law’s, and he almost flinches away, but he holds steady.
“Do you want me to touch you Law?”
Law realizes that Sabo never once did. A firm grasp, yes, a swat to the ass, immaculate, but the warmth wasn’t there, and that’s what he stretched into. That’s what Law found comfort in, the disconnect. Sabo was present just as Law was, but Law only sought for his own self.
“Please.”
Sabo turns, and Law’s forced to lift his head, watching him bring his gloved hand to his mouth, keeping Law’s locked in the other. Sabo pulls the leather off with his teeth, letting it hit the floor, and Law stands stock still. He can’t remember the last time he let someone touch him and it had meaning. This is significance. Pale skin lifts to him as if he were going to run away, but the solid weight of Sabo’s fingers threaded through his grounds Law.
At first it’s light, a shadow of a touch ghosting across his cheek. Law waits with bated breaths, until he realizes he wants that warmth. The next time Sabo reaches, Law follows him halfway, and his sigh is between a moan and a whimper. Sabo’s palm is rough, full of life, fingers nimble and dexterous. Once on his cheek and now curling around the nape of his neck, and it’s never felt so good.
Law basks in it, eyelashes fluttering shut to savor the sensation. It’s more overwhelming than the swats delivered to his backside. Law relishes in how they massage his scalp, back down to the nape of his neck, across his jawline.
“Look at me Law.”
Law’s eyelashes flutter open, and Sabo’s are rich with warmth. A thumb skirts under his chin, above his beard, and it all blossoms inside of him. Law’s mouth parts with a gasp, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Sabo’s gaze dips down to the sound, his own eyes growing lidded. A swift twist, and Sabo’s curled under his jaw, fingers digging into his cheek to yank his head forward. Law stumbles with a breathless moan.
“Do you feel me now?”
God, does Law ever. He nods his head, but Sabo digs in more.
“Who is it you feel?”
“You, Sabo.”
And just like that, warmth seals around his throat. Sabo doesn’t push, doesn’t press, but you’d have thought he sucked all the breath out of Law because of the whine he releases.
“You want it this bad and deny yourself,” Sabo laughs under his breath, adding the slightest bit of pressure, “that’s such a shame kitten. You should see yourself right now. You look breathtaking.”
Law’s mouth opens, but only a garbled moan comes out when he chokes him in earnest. Air constricts his lungs, and Sabo is right there curling his arm around Law’s waist. Sabo keeps Law anchored to him, loosening his grip and Law almost forgets to breathe until it rushes in his lungs.
“So pretty.”
Sabo surges forward, hand nestled around his throat while lips smash against his own. It’s not as clumsy as Law predicted, not with Sabo taking over. He’s barely able to get a grip on himself, arms lifeless at his side until they fumble, fingers digging into his biceps. Law’s vision goes splotchy, coughing spit when he’s released again, and Sabo’s right there licking it up.
Law senses the shift only when his cheek is shoved against the door. Sabo’s gloved hand fumbling with his belt and trousers, the other pining his arm to his back. Law doesn’t realize just how hard he is until knuckles graze his length, and he hisses, rocking forward to relieve the pressure.
“Hold your elbows.”
What was soft is now rough, Sabo’s voice raspy. Law scrambles to do what he’s told, fingers curling over both elbows. Sabo has his pants and boxers at his ankles without preamble, spreading his cheeks wide to spit on his winking hole. Law moans at the crassness of it. The contrast of his leather hand and bare one is astounding to Law, both thumbs sweeping through the mess to spread his hole apart.
“This,” Sabo says, “this is how I wanted you.”
Sabo spits crudely, but Law can’t focus on that because a finger thrusts in shallowly, tentative.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
Sabo pumps it in just a little bit faster, and fuck does it feel good having something inside of him again.
“Y- your finger.”
Sabo’s hum is pleased, twisting and curling.
“And what about my finger?”
Law’s mind almost blanks when he pushes down on his prostate, but this is what Sabo wanted. For Law to speak up. To be present.
“Feels, feels so good.”
“There you go.” Sabo praises.
Law keens when he keeps rubbing, making him see stars. Another one is added without Law even having to voice it, Sabo sensing how relaxed he’s gotten. And it’s euphoric when they both enter and stretch Law. Sabo does it slow until Law’s rocking his hips back for more, moaning shamelessly in his own office.
“I want,” Law gasps, “I want more.”
Sabo ignores Law completely. He starts a relentless pace of thrusting in and out, avoiding his prostate. Leaving Law to scramble and claw at his shirt, trying to match his pace.
“Insatiable.” Sabo comments, amused, but he doesn’t slow down.
If anything, he gives more, scissoring them apart before driving in deep. Law’s toes curl in his shoes, aware of how much he’s leaking. Sabo doesn’t stop, but with each brush it sends spasms up his spine as he tortures his sweet spot. A shocked gasp ripping out of him when he adds a third, and Law’s eyes fly open, his moan shrill.
“There you go,” Sabo urges, “you feel so good twitching around me. Are you about to come?”
Law nods frantically, trying to spread his legs wider, reach for that different angle. And then he’s empty. Law sobs against the wood, turning his head, but Sabo tuts under his breath. A handful of hair is grabbed, stopping him from hiding and Sabo’s face comes into view.
“Move again and I’ll leave you just like this.”
Law’s bottom lip wobbles, the thought of being left untouched after all this sobers him up.
“’m sorry sir.”
Sabo groans.
“What that damn voice does to me.” Sabo grunts.
The weight of his cock settles between his cheeks, slipping up and down, precome coating as it goes, and Law’s going to have to ask for a taste. But right now he needs it inside of him, so desperately he arches his back, arms and shoulders aching.
“Please, put it in,” Law whines, “stick it in.”
Sabo groans, the warmth of his hand gripping Law’s waist, leather pressing on his cheek. And when he thrusts in, fully, seated deep inside of him, Law’s eyes roll back. Law’s orgasm splits him open, spills out at the seams as Sabo rams into him fast and dirty. The sting of the stretch making it feel like Law hasn’t ever lived until this moment.
The door rattles with how hard he’s thrusting into him, Sabo’s hand smushing him against it. Sabo’s belt smacking against the swell of his ass, the backs of his thighs. That sweet sting that has Law seeing stars. Sabo leans over him, biting harshly at his ear before pulling back to resume his thrusts.
Every time it’s like he gets deeper and deeper, the painful burn of overstimulation coiling in his gut. Despite that, he can feel himself swelling again, filling out because of the rough pace. Sabo drives into him like he has a purpose, like Law has a purpose.
“Fuck Law,” Sabo groans, “milkin’ me so good, you want it bad don’t you?”
Law tries to nod, tries to speak up, but he can’t do anything except take it. Grounding himself by gripping his elbows tighter, and he knows he’s going to feel it in all places. Law’s so lost in it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking at the door, but that doesn’t slow Sabo down. If anything he goes harder. The hand that was muffling his noises is wrapped lightly around his throat. Sabo bouncing him back on his cock until he believes nothing else exists. Lips tickle his ear, a tongue tracing along the shell.
“Eustass is going to know you’re gettin’ fucked in here,” Sabo whispers darkly, “once we leave out he’s going to know it was me stuffing your pretty ass full of my seed, and you won’t care will you?”
“No, no, god Sabo, don’t fucking stop.”
“That’s it. Scream louder for him. You want him to know it belongs all to me. Who is it that gave this to you?”
Sabo slams in deep, grinding in a way that has his hole fluttering, eyes rolling.
“Sabo,” Law whines, “Sabo.”
A hand wraps around his cock, and Law mewls, thrusting into it, back onto his dick. Sabo’s strokes are brutal, hand wrapped tight and stroking viciously, and it’s all that Law could ever want. Law can’t handle it anymore. His hands slap down on the door, not caring that it rattles, all he cares about is fucking himself on his cock.
“Fill me up,” Law begs, “please, Sabo please.”
“So fucking nasty.” Sabo laughs breathlessly.
It only takes a few more jerks to his cock, Sabo thrusting along his prostate, that Law is crying out. Come splashes on his door and he can’t even care about that, because Sabo makes the sweetest sound, burying deep in his hole. Warmth fills him, and Law slumps forward, held only by the wood.
Both of them are breathing heavily afterwards. Sabo pressing his forehead against the back of Law’s, soaking in bliss. If he knew it’d end like this, then Law would have just asked Sabo to come to his house. Law doesn’t know how the hell he’s going to go on working afterwards. Law’s laugh is satiated, knocking his head back until Sabo is following him. A kiss passes between them, the hecticness of the atmosphere dwindling down.
“Eustass-ya was really out there?” Law doesn’t know if it was just for effect.
Sabo laughs, pushing off his back.
“Oh definitely.” Sabo lilts.
Law’s grin is pleased. Law bites his lip when Sabo starts pulling out, replaced with fingers stuffing his hole before the come leaks out. Law shuffles on weak legs so that he can pull his boxers up after slipping them out.
“That should do it.” Sabo hums.
“What do-“
Come slick fingers are stuffed in his mouth, and Law makes an indignant noise before he cleans the leather off diligently.
“I hate to leave like this.” Sabo sounds irritated.
Law’s lips feel numb once they’re free, both of them trying to right themselves. He shakes his head.
“I know how it is,” Law tells him, “I didn’t exactly think it’d go like this.”
Law laughs sheepishly, and Sabo’s smile is endearing, cupping his cheek.
“As long as you know it doesn’t end here.”
Law holds his gaze, nodding in understanding.
“Good.” Sabo says, kissing Law swiftly, “now let’s clean up, we have a friend to mortify.”
Law laughs delightfully, a weight lifting off his chest for what feels like the first time in forever.
· · · ·
“So, Sabo and Law, hm?”
“Whatever would give you that idea?” Mihawk sounds offended.
Shanks stares, chin placed on his palm where Law is leaning closer to Sabo more than he has in the last few weeks. A sudden glow to his face. Shanks is not a dumb man. Whipped for his lover, yes. But he has eyes, and he’s perceptive.
“Oh I don’t know,” Shanks muses, “you give Law a swift talking to- which was torment to watch. I wish it had been me.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Mihawk scowls.
“Say, oh the team is falling apart, get it together. In that scolding tone you do in the bedroom-“
“Can you not.”
“And now all of a sudden everything’s fine,” Shanks points out, “don’t you think that’s suspicious darling?”
“I think your perception on voyeurism is having a take on this.” Mihawk jabs, and Shanks grins at his cutting tone.
“Look at them.” Shanks lowers his voice, and when Mihawk turns to him he can see that beautiful shift.
Where he’s scathing on the outside, but on the inside yearns to obey. Shanks raises a knowing eyebrow, and his cheeks turn the slightest bit pink. Mihawk jerks his head, and Shanks grins widely. Law and Sabo are currently hovering around a flushed Kid, who looks wholly uncomfortable. Sabo with a hand now placed on the base of Law’s spine, Law with his now easy going posture.
“Hm, I guess.”
Shanks makes a noise, “you guess? Don’t you know?”
“Perhaps it could be something,” Mihawk tilts his head thoughtfully, “but it doesn’t scream love. That’s the face of someone who’s just come out their shell.”
And sure, Law’s glowing, radiant. Shanks can admire that in a man, yet the way Sabo stares at him could mean something more.
“Shall we place bets my love?” Shanks teases.
Mihawk turns to him with a wicked gleam in his eyes, never one to turn down being right.
“And what are we betting?”
“I say Law doesn’t realize his feelings just yet.” Shanks raises off his hand.
Mihawk scoffs.
“You’re a boy, that’s why you always fell too fast and got hurt quick.”
Shanks mocks a pained groan, covering his heart.
“You know just how to rile me up, dear lover. Prey tell your bet.”
Mihawk mulls it over, that calculating brain of his never ceases to amaze Shanks, and before he can even say it, he knows he’s already lost.
“I say he’s just waiting for the right person to tame him.”
Shanks grins, holding out his hand.
“You’ve got a deal.”
Mihawk shakes on it, and now to the important things.
“So what happens when I win?”
Mihawk smirks at him, hopping off his desk, “what a foolish boy you are.”