: : 1
"What are you wearing?"
Law stopped chewing on his apple slice, finding the question bewildering. He thought it was fairly obvious what he was wearing. He looked down at his long legs crossed over onto the coffee table, toes wiggling. They were bright yellow pants with purple plaid stripe, and Law had the thought that they were ugly – but the material was stretchy and comfortable. He then looked up at Sanji's cross expression.
"Clothes," he replied.
"They're hideous," Sanji replied, glancing at himself in the hall mirror before adjusting his tie. His black shirt and vest matched his trousers, and Law wondered whose funeral he was attending.
Law continued chewing on his apple slice, saying, "Not as hideous as your face."
"Your pants are ten times more hideous than your attitude."
"Your entire personality is more hideous than anything you can ever say times infinity."
Sanji gave him a disgusted look, striding away from the hallway mirror, plucking his wallet from the hallway table. Law noticed he left his cellphone sitting there. "That's not even going to get a response from me."
"Yet, you got all pissy," Law muttered as keys were snatched and the door opened and slammed shut. He sighed heavily, lifting the remote to change the channel. He finished his apple and examined the two slices left on the plate next to him. It took two shows on the History channel before he realized that Sanji was not coming back from his cellphone. He pushed himself up from the couch and retrieved it from the hallway table.
It hadn't any personality just yet – just a generic wallpaper, some notifications, and basic news headlines that scrolled across the screen. It wasn't even locked – so he pressed the home button and sat on the couch once more. He wasn't even going to cover his tracks – he scrolled through the apps with some tense curiosity.
His new roommate was not afraid to say anything to his face; he was angry all the time, stomping on the floors with concrete blocks for feet. His room smelled like cigarettes – despite the No Smoking rule – and Law swore he finished entire bottles of wine only to hide them in the trash the next day. He made some cash working at a restaurant; able to afford name brand items but couldn't afford to live on his own. He stocked the fridge with fresh fruit and vegetables and meat cut at counters – but rarely cooked anything more than a soup.
The apartment was a two bedroom, rent-stabilized treasure find near the downtown area, but Law had long suspected it was because it was owned by some shady people who used the building for things he hadn't the imagination for. Law had just barely put his ad up when Sanji replied with cash in hand and a want to move in despite Law not having yet cleaned out the previous roomie's room. He let Sanji have that mess and moved him in fifteen hours later – he barely got a word in before the younger man went at the mess with a rage that could only be described as violent and gory.
After that, Sanji snapped at him like he was some teenaged younger brother dallying in his business. It would have bothered Law into destroying him and his belongings but Sanji also yelled at him to eat the food he bought and cleaned the living area without feeling pressured, and Law had grown accustomed to a clean apartment so he lived with the snappy comments and angry rage. What also helped was Sanji was hardly ever there anyway so it was almost similar to living alone.
But neither of them really knew who each other were.
Looking through Sanji's cellphone, he found a long thread between the blond and someone named "Fucking Idiot" with some knife emojis.
'I'm keeping the dog.'
'Custody issues apply here.'
'Argue all you want – dog stays.'
'Both of us made the decision to adopt him, both of us should have an option!'
'There is none with you.'
'You divorce people, not children!'
'*dog'
'He's my dog, too!'
'He's *mine after you left us.'
"Divorce?" Law repeated aloud, wondering if he'd noticed a tan line on Sanji's ring finger. He thought that this was a considerably cool woman to continue a composed line of arguing with an oversensitive guy. There was more to read but he stopped scrolling because one of his favorite shows had come on.
He woke up at the sound of keys being tossed to the floor and angry muttering. Remembering that he had Sanji's phone, Law stilled as he listened for his roommate to begin an angry search for the device but Sanji stomped to his room and slammed the door shut. So it gave Law time to return the phone back where he'd found it and returned to the couch. He had just pulled his blanket back up to watch some early morning programming when Sanji emerged from his room, stomped to where the phone was and stomped back towards his room. But then he stopped near the living room once he noticed the television was on.
Without any warning, he picked up Law's feet and tossed them to the side to sit on the couch, forcing the older man to sit up sluggishly.
"What the hell are you watching?" Sanji asked crankily, reeking of cigarette smoke and alcohol.
"I don't know," Law answered, unsure if it were an infomercial or a badly programmed newscast.
"What the hell do you do all day besides stealing all the oxygen in here?"
"I'm sure your lungs has asked the very same thing," Law muttered, pinching his nostrils shut with his fingers.
Sanji huffed, propping his feet – with very expensive shoes, it looked like – on the battered coffee table. He rested his angry head on an angry fist and glared at the television screen in silence. It felt very awkward for Law at that moment – it felt like they were strangers sitting on some bus bench, familiar with each other only because they rode the same line at the same time.
"You're so angry all the time," Law then muttered.
"Don't talk to me."
"I live here, too."
"Tch," Sanji hissed, rising up from the couch and stomping towards the kitchen. Law wondered if he stomped this way all his life. "Are you really alive? Did you eat my apples?"
"Yes," Law answered unapologetically.
Sanji slammed the refrigerator door shut, then began striding back towards his room. "Eat the rest of them, you selfish slob."
Law couldn't help but jump as that door slammed shut. He wondered what the neighbors thought of them. Hours later, he was hurrying out from his room with his overnight bag, cursing as his cellphone rang continuously and regrets with yet another sleepless night left him reluctant to leave. He saw the lunch tote on the counter with an angry "Eat This, Shit 4 Brains", and paused to stare at it with bag heavy eyes. He wondered if Sanji had mixed this place up with his own. He could imagine Sanji calling his soon to be divorced wife this and found it laughable. He grabbed it anyway, sure he was going to be too lazy to find his own food later on.
"Maybe you should ask," Penguin said with concern later that day. Law was busy frowning at the Tupperware containers, all open to reveal surprisingly lavish foods with cream, meat and starch mixtures and salad with a smaller container of dressing. He had no idea when Sanji had made it – he supposed he'd fallen asleep on the couch after their encounter and the blond did it then but he was gone before Law's alarm had gone off. Maybe he was a ninja.
Law had just told him and Shachi how angry the guy was, and confessed to going through his phone.
"Don't bother, unless you're going to be friends with him," Shachi advised through a mouthful of sandwich. "It probably won't last long."
"Divorces are tricky," Penguin agreed.
"He's pretty young," Law said. "I think in his early twenties."
"Poor thing," Shachi sneered. "Hard lesson to learn so early on."
Law pushed aside everything but the salad and began picking at the greens – eating one leaf at a time. Penguin looked at him with such a heavy expression that Law looked in the other direction.
"I was a fat kid, Penguin."
"You're a skinny adult, now."
"Let me live my life the way I want to."
Shachi took one of the meat and pasta mixtures and took a bite. His face lit up. "Oh, wow! This is amazing! Have a bite, bro."
After Penguin took it, his face reflected his thought. "Jesus. Let me have the other one."
"Arm wrestle me for it!"
"I'll take your word for it," Law muttered, not the least bit interested to try. The numbers running through his head assured him he was on the right track. "I think things will work out fine. I'm honestly not bothered by him."
"Until wifey decides he's gotta pay alimony and he decides to kill you and himself."
"I wouldn't mind," Law confessed. "I'm tired."
"After all these years, I'm not surprised to hear you say that," Penguin muttered, almost bitterly.
Two days later Law drifted into the apartment, exhausted and dazed. He dropped his bag where he dropped his keys and struggled to take off his jacket. As he drew an arm out, he intended on hanging it up onto the rack nearby, where Sanji's expensive array of outerwear took over most of the hooks. But the jacket felt too heavy and he made a misstep, so he ended up crashing onto the hard floor with his jacket halfway on and his heart racing miles per minute. It was too much effort to get up, so he decided to take a nap instead.
He then opened sluggish eyes to see that Sanji was standing over him, glaring at him. He was wavering as he stood there, expensive jacket flecked with wet droplets of melting snow and a plastic bag dangling from one hand. It looked like it were packed with clothes rather than items from the Chinese takeout place that it was labeled with.
"Did the divorce go through?" Law mumbled into the floor.
Sanji's mouth snapped shut as that glare turned venomous. Whatever he planned to say was obviously forced to the back burner as Law waited for an answer. His face reddened and his jaw tightened, but he somehow let the comment go. He threw the bag carelessly into the living room, where something inside of it shattered like glass.
"Should I call an ambulance?" Sanji managed to release between gritted teeth as he crouched to help Law to his feet. "Are you dying?"
"If you can make it quick, then do so without me suffering. I'm prepared to die."
"Then could you at least put something in writing that I'm guaranteed your next paycheck? Doctor? Fucking hypocrite."
"Surgeon," Law corrected blearily. He managed to tilt his head to see what Sanji's feet were encased in. He noticed how wet the hems were. "What, you need money for new crocodile shoes and highlights?"
"I wanted a relaxing evening," Sanji snarled, forcefully pulling Law to his feet.
"But instead you settle for strong armed robbery," Law muttered, finding it embarrassing that his legs didn't want to cooperate.
"…and instead of finishing off this amazingly cheap ass whiskey I found in here to black out for the entire weekend and wipe away my memory storages, I come home to a fucking loser nearly dead in the hall!"
"What were you doing in my room in the first place?"
"It's where I found the whiskey!" Sanji huffed, maneuvering to support him and then looking at the frail man with suspicion. "You aren't naturally skinny, are you?"
"Are you a natural blond?"
"Forcing you to eat something probably won't work here, will it?"
"I could do with a couple of those crackers in the left hand drawer aside the fridge."
"This is great," Sanji muttered to himself, walking Law to his room and dropping him onto his bed. He then roughly removed the man's shoes and jacket while Law barely registered that his drunk roommate smelled strongly of cigarettes and dirty moisture – he was probably wandering the slushy sidewalks for some time before he came home. "I get kicked out of my own fucking home, move into a mob building, my roomie's got a full blown eating disorder, and now I'm denied the chance to forget my own name because this loser is moments from having a heart attack! I just lost my fucking job…!"
"Eviction notice, day one," Law muttered, heart racing noisily with all the movement.
"Give me your goddamn phone," Sanji then snarled, digging into his pockets until he came across the device. "What's your damn pin?"
Law squinted at the ceiling. "Good lord, I'm not even dead yet…"
"I will cram all the leftovers from the couple of days you were gone into your throat - !"
"Oh seven fourteen."
After Sanji unlocked his phone, he began scrolling through Law's contacts. He pressed – rather angrily, Law thought – on one and sat on the floor, rummaging underneath Law's bed. Law lifted his head because it was quite bold of his roommate to know where he'd stashed his old alcohol box.
"I'm the idiot's roommate. Get over here before I kill him. You call the cops, and I'll track you down after I make bail and make you regret it," Sanji said, hanging up moments later and tossing the phone near Law's head. He stood up with a half empty bottle of vodka. Nodding, he uncapped that and walked out of Law's room with it, slamming the door shut behind him.
Law was incredulous. He looked back up at the ceiling. "So, this is how it feels being shut into a nursing home…"
Half an hour later Penguin hurried in, looking just as exhausted as Law felt. He caught his breath once he assessed the scene, but still looked panicked. Law did feel bad for the worry – he was sure Penguin was just as exhausted as he was, and yet Law had caused him trouble with his predicament. Guilt and feelings of failure made his entire body feel heavier than it ever did.
"I told you," Penguin said tiredly, sitting at the edge of Law's bed while removing his scarf from around his neck. He glanced around Law's room before looking at him with a weary expression. "People are starting to talk, bud."
"Let them."
"The patients and their families are starting to talk more so than our co-workers," Penguin amended. "How are you going to secure their confidence when all they can think about is how sick you yourself look?"
"That's what face masks are for."
"I think you should take a vacation and go back to see that doctor," Penguin said with a sigh, reaching up to scratch around his ear. "What if you faint or something in the middle of a procedure…? What's that going to look like? This is something you should do before you're ordered to do it."
"Sometimes I think about taking your advice to heart," Law said slowly, examining the blue in the bed of his fingernails, "but then I start thinking too deeply into it. And get dragged right back into the waves."
"It's been years," Penguin reminded him gently, as if Law needed that reminder. "And you've made such a name for yourself and are your own person. Like, the only thing that can hurt you is yourself, and you're doing a spectacular job of it, I might add. It's like you're allowing them to win, buddy."
Law thought about it for several long moments before he said quietly, "Don't call me 'buddy'."
"Take the time off. Get treated. It's not that bad like that one time, so maybe it'll be fine with outpatient services."
It startled them both when Sanji appeared drunkenly in the doorway, nearly empty bottle clanking noisily on the hinges as he leaned in. His tie hung sloppily from his collar, his vest was unbuttoned and he was walking around barefoot. His hair was clinging to his face, which was shiny with alcohol sweat. Penguin recoiled away from him.
"So when you leave," Sanji said slowly, words slurring, "can I have your goody box?"
Penguin stood up quickly. "Thank you for calling me over. My friend isn't well, so maybe heaping demands on him this fast isn't a good idea – "
"You were right about the divorce," Sanji interrupted him, pointing at Law before finishing off the rest of the bottle. He exhaled noisily while Penguin cringe a little, reaching over to pick up Law's jacket from the floor just in case he needed to protect them both. "I had the papers served to me, today. Why I got fired. I overreacted. Ha ha. Well. Fuck them too. But you're not going to need that, are you?"
"Don't touch the toilet paper, please," Law said politely.
"Just the alcohol."
"You'll still make rent?" Penguin asked tentatively.
Sanji speared him with an angry glare before pushing away from the doorway.
"I've no problem covering my fucking ass!"
Both men cringed at the sound of him stomping down to his room, slamming the door shut. Law chuckled.
Penguin's face was stiff with concern as he considered the doorway for a few moments before looking at his friend. "He does stomp, doesn't he? Look, get some rest. I'll text you, and maybe we can drive you over there for support."
"Just get some rest," Law muttered guiltily. "Sorry for this."
Penguin nodded. He'd heard enough apologies to last them both for a lifetime. He was sure to hear more because he knew the man well enough to know that he wasn't going to follow through. Their history together guaranteed them both some friendly disappointment that each of them knew well. He draped Law's jacket over the foot of the bed.
The next morning, Law woke up to the sound of retching. He assumed Sanji had done his best to wipe his memory banks and was dealing with the aftermath. So he climbed out of bed, wincing at the cold. It took him some minutes to find his fluffy robe and pull that on, looking at his watch to see if it were time to eat, yet.
He salivated at the thought of eating his preferred breakfast, rising slowly from his bed. He shuffled out from there to the guest bathroom, finding Sanji hugging the toilet bowl.
"Regret it, yet?" he asked dryly.
Sanji spit before shaking his head. Law noticed that his cellphone was broken in the gleaming white of the shower stall. It made him wince, wondering how many phones had to be broken for this guy to get a clue.
"I'm aiming for alcohol poisoning, now," Sanji muttered into the bowl, his words echoing slightly over the dirty water. "Maybe he'll feel sorry for me."
Oh. 'He', Law thought with some surprise.
"Probably not," he said. "It's satisfying to see someone suffer."
Sanji snorted, leaning his head against the lip of the bowl. It made Law cringe. But when the man didn't say anything more, Law headed into the kitchen to warm up a can of soup and tea. He was eating it directly from the pot when Sanji stumbled in, wiping his freshly washed face with a flowery towel.
"Can I cook you something instead?" he asked drunkenly.
"You know what they say…drinking and cooking makes for a sad statistic," Law answered warily.
"You gonna call that friend to come pick you up?"
"No."
"Didn't you make plans yesterday?"
"Clearly, that alcohol consumption didn't work. You still remember shit."
Sanji threw the towel impatiently into the sink. He wiped his hair from his face, revealing a haggard look – it was much different from Law's own, but seemed to bear the same sort of pain. He leaned up against the fridge, watching Law eating from the pot. He then shook his head and staggered away. Law heard him walk into his room, rummage for the box underneath his bed, the clinking noises of bottles rapping together making him wince once again.
"Only one person dies in here!" Sanji then snapped as he made his way back to his room. Law was prepared for the door to slam shut but when it did, it was still a surprise.
For the rest of the day, he ignored his phone and sat on the couch, flipping from channel to channel. The cityscape changed color outside, revealing fluttering snow and occasional whiteouts that made it difficult to see the skyscrapers in the distance. Evening came and went, and when Law finally lifted his head after some troubled sleeping, he saw that Sanji was in the kitchen – cutting angrily through various vegetables. He didn't say anything, and Sanji said nothing to him. Both men were consumed with their own problems, and though nothing was direct, it was understood that they were strangers and had no footing in each other's world. Another nap took Law through the rest of the morning, but he heard Sanji taking a shower.
When he emerged he was dressed in dark clothes and wearing a dark hood. Law watched him leave, then got up from the couch to find his next allotted meal for the day. He was just finishing up at the counter when Sanji slammed in, carrying a bundle that whined anxiously from his arms. Law was surprised to see the face of a miserable looking bulldog peeking through the fabric, as Sanji struggled to hold onto a plastic bag of items that threatened to shred the bottom of it.
"This unsupervised visitation was allowed?" Law asked tentatively, not wanting a scene caused in their apartment because of this.
"No. This is forcible kidnapping," Sanji replied, marching off to his room. He then called over his shoulder, "He's potty trained!"
The door slammed shut in the hallway while Law furrowed his brow. Then he shrugged because it was none of his business. Halfway through the night, while Law was engrossed in some Netflix documentary and battling a headache, the sound of clicking nails on the floorboards caught his attention. He looked over to see the dog peering cautiously at him, droopy eyes furrowed with a brown spotted brow. It breathed with a faint snore caused by his short nose, jowls hanging low to reveal a lower bite that allowed his bottom teeth to stretch towards his black nose. He wore a dark green collar with his name written in black ink on it. Law was sure this thing had been trashed in the city dumpster then rescued.
"Woof," the dog snorted, inverted front paws steadily holding up the rest of its large body over the floor.
"Woof," Law returned, rubbing his temple as the headache persisted.
The dog stared at him for several moments before glancing back down the hallway then looking up at him. He waddled into the living area before sitting with his back against the couch leg, face uplifted to catch all the scents. He kept looking at Law cautiously, expecting the man to address him.
The ugly dog made Law wince. The animal looked at the television set, seemingly engrossed in the content before sneaking a look back at him. One of his ears flicked and he tilted his head back against the cushion before Law became aware of Sanji moving about. Once the blond found him, looking unsteady on his feet, he sat on the couch with a hard flounce. The dog pawed at him urgently, Sanji lifting the animal onto his lap. Content, the dog settled there with a hard snort.
"What the hell is this?" Sanji then asked crankily of the television set, scratching the dog absently behind his ears. The dog looked happy.
"That dog is the ugliest thing I've ever seen."
As in reaction, the animal glanced at Law self-consciously, hunching in on itself while Sanji shot Law a dirty look.
"Oh? He understands human words?"
Sanji kissed the animal's head. "Don't worry about that guy," he assured the dog. "You can chew on his bones when he dies."
The dog lovingly snuffed at Sanji's hands then looked at Law smugly.
"You're still ugly," he whispered, then realized he'd heard the same thing once before. It struck him that Penguin was right. They were winning.