Chapter 2 - Blue Scarf


The new tea-towel had made its way to their bedroom, god forbid. Law smirked as he tossed vegetables in the pan. He'd see how long it stayed there, pinned to the wall opposite their bed. Misery had always cried desperately when they'd locked her out of the room during sex, dear sweet dog. Well, she'd get an eyeful now, if they could handle having that travesty looking over them. Then again, her eyes were already averted to the side of the camera. He'd leave it as a surprise for Marco.

The back door slammed and Phoenix came in from walking Mercury, and Pekopeko, Luffy's dog. Thankfully the dog was more like Zoro and less like the pirate king, and it curled up in a corner after tussling with Mercury for the water bowl, spilling half of it over the floor. Law tchhed – maybe the dog had a touch of Strawhat to it after all – and returned to his cooking. One of them would clean it later.

After looping the leashes on the back handle of the side door, Marco stood behind Law, placed his hands on the tattooed man's hips, nuzzled his neck, and breathed in deeply the medicinal scent the doctor always had about him, the smell of the garden, the sweat and dirt of the day, cooking aromas, and some fusty old grandma odour. Had one of the tea-towel ladies hugged him? They were fond of him. And terrified. Law softly pressed his head back against the blond.

"Hands full."

"I know." His lips grazed the side of Law's face, the nape of his neck. He dropped his embrace and went to the fridge. Poured two glasses of wine.

"Did you have fun? How's Robin?" He put Law's glass on the counter nearest him.

"She's fine. Yeah, it was fun." Law reduced the heat. "I got you something." He glanced at him, before turning back to the stove.

"Oh?" Marco wondered about the gift that should have been waiting for Law at the convention. Maybe it hadn't been ready.

"On the main counter, in the paper bag." The Heart pirate turned the heat off and took the vegetables from the hotplate, served them in equal portions into two bowls. He carried them to the table. Just as well Luffy wasn't joining them. He wasn't sure if the rubber man even knew what tofu and cashews were, apart from a salted beer snack, sans the beer. And the tofu. He returned for his wine, and stood with his back to the sink as Marco adjusted the blue scarf around his neck.

"Mhm, you look quite dashing," Law drawled.

"For a change?"

"Even more than usual."

He put his wine behind him, walked to Marco, tugged on the ends of the scarf, gently, and kissed him on the lips. Marco responded.

"It suits you."

"It is my colour."

"It's a shame we sometimes don't have cooler weather," Law sighed, stepping back, and wrapping it around Marco's graceful neck a few times and loosening it so it was scooped into a cowl, one of the tasselled ends spilling onto his front.

"Then you'd see a whole lot less of me, yoi."

"And I wouldn't want that."

Marco was getting on, but with his devil's fruit, who ever knew how old he truly was? He'd wear a shirt sometimes and other days he may as well not have. This was one of those days. Law understood how much loyalty the Whitebeards had to Oyaji and to the tattoo that expressed that. He placed a hand flat on the Phoenix's compact stomach and another hand slipped under the open jacket. Law spanned his fingers into the small of Marco's back.

He drew the other man to him, they almost matched, height for height and had similar builds. One of Law's long legs rested between Marco's, applying faint pressure.

"Dinner's getting cold," he whispered into his lover's ear. Kissed him lightly on the cheekbone. Turned and grabbed his wine, and headed to the table.


oOOo


It took Marco some time to notice. Law was late to bed of course. It was Marco's night off. Sarah did a great job, and they didn't have to worry about her.

Law finally crawled onto the bed shortly after midnight, after his shower, the side lamp on until they settled. Marco sat up, finishing a trashy paperback. Law lay on his back.

"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with "M."

Marco looked down at him. What was he up to now? Law rolled over. He folded his elbows and placed them on Marco's lap, and rested his head on top of them. The blond slanted his book, and absentmindedly ran his hand in Law's mildly damp hair, streaked through with grey. Not that you'd know from the way he was acting right now. His eyes snapped shut, and he almost purred in ecstasy.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm right next to you. You don't have to play games to get my attention."

"No, not Marco. M, M & M," Law murmured, pushing against Marco's palm.

"The Trinity of Ems?"

"Mmm."

"Am I one of them?"

"Unh-uh." Law's hair shook under Marco's fingers.

"It can only mean one thing, then." The older man freed his hand from the Heart pirate's black locks, and shifted his legs up, shaking them a little to get Law to move off them. Grumbling that he could have given fair warning, he rolled to the side, his jagged back tattoo - the disrupted Jolly Roger - in Marco's sight.

They really should get Law's back fixed, but Marco had got so used to seeing it now that the scarring barely registered. He put his book facedown on the side table, stepped out of the bed and walked over to the wall where his partner had hung the tea-towel that Marco had commissioned. His gift. Law, now sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, stared at him. One arm loosely behind his head.

"What in all that is good and holy is this abomination?"

Marco scratched at the back of his head, and snorted looking at the jangled and jumbled dogs and designs printed onto the tea-towel. Just how he wanted it. The tacky hearts, the cheesy dog biscuits, the animals that had no clue that they were the rejects of the shelter. The un-cute animals that no-one but Law would select. The white monster of Flevance.

"Shush now, you'll hurt her feelings," Law said, crawling to the end of the bed and looking toward Mercury.

Marco looked down at the dog who wagged her tail slowly under his gaze. Then back at Law, sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes alit. Three folds crossed his stomach as he relaxed in his drawstrings. The Phoenix was glad he got to see the Heart shirtless. Said man rose from the mattress and padded over.

"What in tarnation" Marco asked, turning to Law in mock indignation when he felt him behind him, "Is this?"

"Trinity almost had an apoplexy." He put his arms around Marco's waist, torso against torso, groin against arse, as he pushed into him. "It's perfect, is what it is," he whispered into Marco's ear, his chin on his shoulder. He ran his hands up Marco's chest, from behind, kissed into his neck.

"The things I have to do to get you into bed," Marco said, putting a hand behind him, touching the back of Law's head.

Law laughed. "They're appreciated." He nibbled on Marco's ear. "I hope you've had a shower."

Ah, Marco was so used to that voice, and it was just the way the doctor spoke, gravelly, low and concise, scaring the fuck out of half of his new patients, and the newer dishcloth dames – or was it them who scared Law? Whatever it was, it still turned the Phoenix on.

"Cheek. I showered as soon as I saw we were going to have an audience tonight." He dropped his arm, turned around, his head bowed slightly, but close to Law's. His hands now on the lean, heavily-tattooed body, resting on its hips. "It's you who kept me waiting."

"You don't mind then?" Law looked down at the blond. He kissed the points he knew sometimes fired up Marco's skin, literally. A pause in Marco's breathing indicated he'd hit the spot. He had to be careful though. He'd singed his eyebrows once. "You know how much they hate to be excluded."

Marco manoeuvred Law so that he was the one pushed up against the wall, right next to the tea-towel. The Heart captain lifted his arms up and folded them in half, made fists and rested them behind his own neck, both opening his body up and giving him some support. Marco dove in, kisses along his jaw line and the dip of his neck, across his shoulders, taking in Law's scent - sweat, forming already despite having just washed. Law's underarm hair was blacker than that on the top of his head. His hand went for Law's junk.

Law brought his arms down and his fingers held either side of Marco's face, directing it upwards, getting him to look at him. "Mercury."

The blond stared up at him with annoyed, hooded, eyes, but he pulled back, a hand still pressing against Law. Keep talking, he thought. The dark-haired man's voice was a pool of warmth and promise.

"Go to bed," Law said thickly. "I'll join you soon. I should be the one thanking you for this monstrosity." And as one hand brought Marco's chin near, and brought his lips to his own in order to drive his point home, his other hand tapped the wall next to him to indicate the tea-towel.

"It's not going to stay there forever, is it?" Marco breathed as they came out of the kiss.

Law smirked and ducked away from the embrace. He sent Mercury outside into the hallway, closing the door on her. She was far less needy than Misery, probably because she hadn't experienced long periods of separation from either one of them. He and Marco had their ups and downs after Kid, but they came through. Misery probably bore the brunt of it.

Mercury was protective, but Misery had taken her defence of them, and in particular Law, as her mission in life. She was a delight, that dog, but she had been a tad overprotective. She'd start a low lying snarl if either Law or Marco was a little too vocal in bed, and she thought one of them was harming the other. Particularly as Law was usually so quiet. Marco had to steer away from her bared teeth on more than one occasion. Misery's strategy was kill the mood or be killed. But her favourite human couldn't hold it against her.

He smiled as he remembered dream-Misery piercing dream-Doflamingo and eating up shrunken Kid when he was undergoing image rehearsal therapy, and in doing so banishing them from that nightmare and their bedroom. That had been such a victory. The demons inside had been caused by the devils outside, but as he aged, it often seemed the inner tormenters wielded the greater power. To be able to defeat them, one dream at a time, was the sweetest relief. Misery might not have ever known she was pivotal in the pink bastard's defeat, but Law gave her credit. He was good at that.

He'd learned some lessons across the years from the three dogs they'd taken care of, though, and made sure that Marco's crumpled old t-shirt went with Mercury. It gave Marco some satisfaction that their third dog decided to sleep on one of his items of clothing rather than Law's. Law just thought it meant one less thing for him to wash, but admitted that it was touching.


oOOo


"You have appalling taste, Law," Marco teased from the bed, as the younger man leant over him, landing on top of him in a frog's crouch, his calves either side of the blond's thighs. He ran his hands along the Whitebeard tattoo, following with succulent kisses, nips and a light grazing of the teeth along those articulated muscles, that fantastic firebird skin. Law's touch always alternated between tender and electrifying, sometimes terrifying.

The Heart captain's fingers were rough and calloused, a surprise considering he was a doctor. But he worked hard at the bar, gardened for his medical supplies, and sparred with Zoro on a fairly regular basis. He'd sailed the seas too, or submerged under them. It was to be expected. He wasn't shy of hard work. Speaking of Kikoku, where was that shadowy spirit? Marco liked to keep her in sight.

The contrast of the stunted nails on one of Law's hands crossing his body, and then the more complete set on the other - the ones Kizaru had let alone - smoothly following, was like sandpaper and unguent, aggravating, biting, hypnotic, cool. The flitting and fleeting tag-team of sensations Law evoked drew his mind completely away from the nodachi.

"I have appalling taste?" Law mused, easing Marco's boxers down. The older man helped him out. Law then kicked his own drawstrings off and resumed his close inspection of the peaks and valleys of the Phoenix's body.

"I know." He kneaded into the muscles around Marco's hips and lingered near his navel, before breathing into the fine line of black hairs - rather than blond - that led to his cock and balls. "And for that you should be grateful," he murmured.

Marco laughed and – as much as he was enjoying the touch – pulled Law up so they were face to face.

"I should be grateful? You cheeky runt."

Law, also laughing, leant towards him. "I'm the runt?" He liked to hold his few centimetres in height over the mighty first division commander. He pulled at his lover's lower lip lightly with his teeth, inserted his tongue in tentative foray. And then pulled out in that fucking infuriating way he had. He sat back on his heels, his naked body lightly touching Marco's bare skin. He bent forward again, hands either side of Marco's head, lips curved in delight, eyes vibrant, as he took the blond's mouth – he liked that tea-towel so much. Sex was going well if it was like this.

Law's lips were insistent but not rough on Marco's own. Marco returned the kiss, Law pulled away. Something more welcoming than a smirk on his face as before. The Phoenix loved seeing him like this. Confident, joyful, giving what he wanted to give, receiving what he wanted to receive.

The blond reached up to the back of Law's neck and pulled him closer again, their lips together, and Marco's tongue explored the fresh, clean, promising cavities of Law's mouth. Thank god for mouthwash. The dark-haired man let Marco swipe his own tongue – over the porous surface, teasing the frenulum, along the smoother sides – an occasional twist or lick given in response - enjoying the motions, the textures, the feelings buzzing through either man. Give and take.

They withdrew and, because Law was silent during sex, Marco savoured the shared intake of breath - the sound as they both drew in air. Passion articulated. The blond's easy grin said it all for Law. The Heart sat on Marco's body, fingers twisted in his hair. He kissed along his jawline to his ear, his tongue and mouth, his breath and intention leaving a trail, until he reached the Phoenix's ear and took the lobe between his teeth. He nibbled the soft flesh, flicking his tongue behind the helix, teasing the joint between it and the skull. Working his way upwards, he traced and shadowed the shell and spirals of the ear. Marco moaned, pliable, his hand against Law's chest. The doctor's fingers pushed into his scalp. Both men felt the swell of arousal, their own and in the body of the other.

Law pulled away. Sitting up once more. "You didn't shave, Phoenix." That contented purr on his lips.

"It's not manly, Nana. I know you love my stubble." Marco grabbed Law's hips and tipped the two of them over, the brunet now flat against the mattress, Marco above him. Law's eyes flashed with pleasure and challenge. The Whitebeard's fingers ran along Law's cheeks, and he had indeed shaved. He needed to do so less than Marco, but he always did. The Phoenix softly rubbed his cheek like a Mink against his partner's face, ensuring some kind of scrape of three o'clock shadow against the currently smooth skin. Conditioned by Bepo perhaps, Law returned the action with an animalistic instinct that melted Marco's heart. Like a bear cub. He knew that it was born of no stage of captivity or service. He made a note, as he always did, to thank Bepo and Penguin for protecting their captain across the years. Especially when he was a sixteen-year-old fleeing Doflamingo.

Marco scratched across the permanent graze on Law's cheek, the scar. A wave of cellular reaction washed over the younger man. Sometimes it was fine, sometimes the Heart invited exploration of the scar, sometimes they had to pause. "Nana," Marco whispered. He tensed as the dark-haired man held his head tightly to him for a second. Black eyes narrowing briefly, Marco felt the strength of the grip, and a tautness to Law's body separate from the desire flushing through it. A different sensation, different chemicals altogether.

The Phoenix stayed close, his breath dancing on Law's skin, and he waited for Law's eyes to open, or for the touch of pain to wash away from his features. They had their techniques. Marco knew Law was listening for his breath. Was counting it, and matching his own breath to it. Feeling for Marco's heartbeat, his pulse - even though both were palpitating, it was welcome, it was wanted. He felt Law's hand against his heart, and he knew it was for grounding, not for extraction.

"Arsehole." Law finally spoke, his voice deep with relief and affection. He put his hand at the back of Marco's neck now, and he moved his chin while Marco's face was close so that the blond felt the tickle of his goatee against his own. Both men breathed regularly again, entwined, and the Phoenix tenderly kissed Law's mouth. The younger man still had his eyes closed. He exhaled into Marco's mouth, and then responded with gentle bites to the inner lip, and opened his own mouth wider so the Phoenix could explore in ways that had nothing to do with the graze on his face, nothing to do with the marine monsters who gave it to him.

"Just what were you planning to do tonight you pirate scoundrel?" Marco asked after pulling away, and then pushing Law down. Law grabbed at Marco's head, raising himself from the bed to do so, placing a kiss on his lips, before sinking back into the mattress, wanting to draw the man into his enjoyment and safety. To show his gratitude.

Marco's fingers trailed down Law's front, lips following. The black ink felt minimally different, slightly raised from the skin around it, but Law only ever knew Marco was working on his tattoos due to the direction his touches took.

"I was intent on admiring the crown jewel of my collection." Law's voice a low growl.

Marco smiled against Law's skin, feeling the heat of his body, the rise of his flesh, a little rankled about being considered something owned, but knowing Law's background, he knew he was kidding. Autonomy was key between them.

"Does it involve polishing?" Marco had drawn himself up the bed, and was near the curve of Law's neck again now, his body hunched above Law's own, and no, they still didn't mark, but small grazes of teeth across the skin hardly qualified.

Law's grin broadened. Marco made short work of his nipples now, his hand occasionally brushing over his dick, cupping his balls. The younger man loosely wrapped a leg over the Phoenix's body, his heel pushing into his lower back, pressing down to bring them closer. To give Marco some friction, some pressure.

"Lick, spit and polish, all guaranteed." Law's eyes slit open. So much potential fun contained in the grey.

"And grind?"

Oh God, that was the tongue. Law inhaled sharply.

"And grind. . ." His voice shook. He coughed. "Definitely grind."

Just as well Misery had her eyes averted, Law thought, staring at the tea towel where only poor, sick, Mephistopheles looked at the camera. She'd been so ill, she probably wouldn't even be able to see this far in the same way that Marco's bobbing blond head and broad shoulders were somewhere in Law's vision, but the physical sensation was really the only thing blowing and occupying his mind at that moment.

"Good to hear," Marco said, after pulling off for a second, "Though I want more than spit if we're grinding." He loved seeing Law's rapt face, eyes closed, arm crooked above his head, the wide curve of his enticing lips following Marco's words. Listening, but unable to respond. Lube was always somewhere nearby. They'd never finish if Law got into one of his giggling fits though. So he felt a jolt of satisfaction as Law's back arched when he ducked back down, and took more of him into his mouth.

Law would return the favour in a short while, and for now let Marco know how much he loved the consideration, being in the bed, the house, the life of the other, by reaching a hand down and gripping the blond's hair in the way he liked, his fingers pressing into his scalp, and by pushing down with just a little more force his foot on the blond's back. Marco could tell by how relaxed yet aroused Law was that he was enjoying it. Still.

He pulled off again. Law groaned. "Okay?" Marco asked, placed a hand on Law's quivering abdomen, the other by his groin, keeping warmth, potential alive by holding it there. Law put his tattooed hand over Marco's and gave it a squeeze. His face was blissed out. He wouldn't be okay if the Phoenix didn't finish though.

"Fuck yeah."

Embracing vulgarity had its benefits after all.


And you'll just have to imagine the rest! Many thanks for reading.

Law undertook Imagery Rehearsal Therapy and techniques in earlier deleted chapters to overcome his crippling nightmares.

If you are interested in the original 15 chapter story, it is on AO3, same title (Teaspoon Collectors, etc.). The author name to search for is Harmonica_Smile. Please take note of the warnings and rating if you choose to read.


Note: Dec 8, 2018: The Vivre Cards have come out with Marco's height, and he's got 12cm on Law. When I started writing these two, a post on Oro Jackson had Marco at about 184 cm, which I prefer. I initially wrote Marco taller, and readjusted everything. Now, it seems I need to go the other way! BUT, I'll just leave author notes instead. It's always an AU anyway.