The bar was called La Voison's Revenge, and as far as Law was concerned it was the worst bar in the entire known universe. This was not actually the case; Law had simply become quite biased over the course of two afternoons.
He had also, over the course of this very afternoon, become drunk. Not extraordinarily so, but. Probably definitely drunkish. Which didn't really matter, seeing as he was clearly being stood up again.
This was the problem with making plans with information brokers – they were always so secretive and gave you huge fucking windows of time to wait around while they decide if you're worth their time. And Law had another two hours to wait around, and he just wanted to go home to his ship and touch Luffy's thighs but unfortunately he couldn't. Because the fucking four months spent waiting around Punk Hazard and the loss of that handy Warlord status had left him with only two contacts left, and the one that actually showed up on time was the one who was on the wrong side of the Grand Line.
He'd need to go back to doing this kind of work on his own. He'd been trained in covert operations, knew how to information gather – it was just a huge pain in the ass with a shiny yellow submarine and 400 million berry bounty on his tattooed ass (2).
But whether or not Coyote showed up with intel on Big Mam and Kaidou, Law would still need a plan of action after this. They'd have to get out of Throat Bayou after tomorrow – it was absurdly dangerous to stay in one place too long with the amount of people after their asses, and almost equally dangerous to keep sailing together. Law would have to come up with a plan based on whether this asshole appeared, and then the morning after next the Revolver and Thousand Sunny would be sailing in opposite directions.
Law sat back on his bar stool, swirling the glass of Dybbuk Spit in his hand. He downed the rest in one gulp – the shit tasted too much like liquid STDs to let linger on your tongue, but by now Law had already tried all the higher-quality liquors in this bar and found them rather lacking, and had ended up settling for efficiency.
Behind him, the same table of dock workers form yesterday was singing another sea shanty, this time from West Blue. Law knew that because he knew the song, but. How did he know this song, again? Where had he heard it before?
Ahhhhhh. Cora-san. Any time he wasn't absolutely silent he had preferred to make as much constant noise as possible as if to make up for it. He had constantly been humming or singing, and Law had suspected at the time is was just to remind himself of the sound of his own voice, so long he spent without using it.
"I stumbled 'round the corner to the tavern on the square, and heard a raucous ruckus as it rang!" The crewmen sang, and either they were more on-key than yesterday or Law was buzzed enough to not notice their failure.
"...From some foul inebriates, some men I used to call my mates were lost in song and this is what they sang..." Law mumbled along with the next verse, idly running his finger over the rim of his empty glass.
"Aaahn? Is that Trafalgar Law?" A deep and unfamiliar voice said from behind him, Law reflexively kicking Kikoku into his hand as he craned his head towards the doorway.
Was that... "Motherfucking Crocodile," Law said, tipping his hat in greeting.
"Oh? Are we so familiar that I've already earned that kind of ire?" the ex-Warlord stepped into the bar proper, Daz Bones following in at his heel and propping himself against a wall by the door.
"Not at all. I've simply heard you referred to that way so many times, I assumed it was part of your title," Law offered with an easy smirk.
Crocodile laughed crookedly, sitting in the stool next to Law's. "That's Sir Motherfucking Crocodile, then, thank you." He held up two fingers for the bartender, and when they delivered, slid the second glass towards Law.
The doctor rose one eyebrow. "And what have I done to earn this if we are so unacquainted?"
Crocodile lifted his own glass to his face, the rings on his fingers glinting flashily in the artificial lighting of the bar. "Donquixote Doflamingo," he stated simply, taking a drink long enough to drain a quarter of his glass. "I fucking hate that guy."
Law laughed, picking up his own. "I'll certainly drink to that."
"Ahn," Crocodile slipped a cigar in his mouth and lit it, leaving it clenched between his teeth. "Everyone's heard about what you and Mugiwara did to Dressrosa. I figured getting me in and out of Impel Down evened itself out, but as much as I hate the thought it looks like I ended up owing the Strawhat anyway."
"You're telling me," Law took a sip of the drink – more venereal swill. Apparently it was the house special. "I sailed all the way in and out of Marineford and physically saved his life with my hands inside body, and by the end of Dressrosa I still ended up owing him more."
"Sounds about right," Crocodile took a sip of his drink out of one side of his mouth in a manner bespeaking of a man who simply did not have a free hand with which to hold his cigar. "Say, tell me. How is Nico Robin doing?"
The surgeon thought about that question. "Beautiful, terrifying, and iridescently happy," he answered after a moment.
Crocodile seemed satisfied by the answer. "Finest woman I ever met," he stated, blowing a stream of smoke into the bar.
"Hey," Daz Bones called attention to himself. "Next time you see that Roronoa, tell him..." He paused, and his brows lightly furrowed. Then, he gave a decisive thumbs up, and said. "Tell him that for me."
Law just stared. "Okay, how about instead of me passing a gesture on for you, you go find him and do it yourself? He's somewhere in town." At least, he was if anyone ever did find him and Luffy. Last Law knew no one had seen either one in hours, Lord knew if they'd even survived the swamps.
"Hell yeah," Daz pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. "I'm getting drunk with that asshole."
Crocodile watched him go, looking lightly entertained. "Try not to get into any sword fights until you're sober," he drawled. "It's best to stick to fistfights when you're drunk."
The other man just waved him off. "I know what I'm doing."
"So anyway," Crocodile grinned, turning back to talk to Law. "How'd you even end up allied with a madman like him in the first place? That really seemed like it was gonna be a good idea?"
Law resisted the urge to groan piteously into his whiskey. "That. That." He rubbed at his closed eyelids. "I had a plan, on it's own, and it was probably even going to work. But. Then, coincidentally, the Strawhat pirates all showed up, and they were gonna either probably ruin everything, or, I could try to use them to speed up the plan down to around a week."
Crocodile smirked. "How'd that go for you, then?"
"Well, considering the original plan was for Kaidou to kill Doflamingo without knowing I was involved," Law drawled, dumping the last contents of the glass into his body while trying not to let it touch his tongue. "Pretty good, actually. Luffy-ya's version was much more satisfying."
The other man barked out a laugh. "Certainly more his style, as I recall."
"As we all recall." Law leaned back in his seat. "Of course, now I have to deal with Kaidou myself." He paused, a thought occurring to him. "And Big Mam; I forgot I kept that clown everybody hates so much. Luffy-ya's got some beef with her too, that might carry over to me. Actually, if it does, does that mean his fight with Blackbeard applies to me, too?"
"Ch'" Crocodile scoffed around his cigar. "As far as Blackbeard is concerned, I'd just as soon kill that dirty fuck myself." He took another drink of his own. "But if you run into him and he decides it does carry, that's three of the four emperors whose toes you've stepped on. And all in what, less than a week? That's pretty good." He held up his glass in a little salute, and then drained it.
"And you got your crime organization disbanded and dumped in Impel Down in what, a week?" Law smirked back. "Two shots of Witch Piss," he called at the bartender,who delivered.
"Yeah, fuck you, too." Crocodile took a sip of his delivered glass, wincing. "Shit, this tastes like genital burning."
Law snickered into his own shot. "Everything here tastes like that, there's no getting around it," he said easily, pouring the contents into his throat quickly. "But fortunately by the third glass or so your tongue goes kind of numb, so the taste stops bothering you." He smirked, flickering his eyebrows playfully.
Crocodile's response was to snort around his cigar and empty his shot. "Well, on the plus side? If you and Mugiwara do live, that means there will be three empty Emperor seats for it," he grinned, a deep huff of smoke escaping his stretched lips. "Might take one of those for myself, if the timing's right."
Law, through the haze of cheap alcohol swirling his brain, considered this statement. Emperor, huh... Well, it wasn't like he had a real plan of his own, right? He'd already beaten Doflamingo, so his actual life's work was already pretty much wrapped up. Doflamingo, who had only ever reached the title of Warlord. And ohhhhh, wasn't that a nice thought? Claiming a title even greater than anything that man could achieve?
Oh, yes. Law liked that thought. "Not a bad idea at all," he grinned, tapping his empty glass against the other ex-Warlord's. A thought occurred to him, suddenly. "Ah," he wondered, thinking of Luffy and leaning one elbow onto the bar. "But will there still even need to be four emperors if there's a Pirate King?"
Crocodile glanced over at him without turning his head, one thin eyebrow raised.
Law said nothing; waving the bartender over for another refill.
"You know," Crocodile drawled as the bartender set a new glass in front of Trafalgar. "There was another rumor I heard going around. I didn't put much stock into it at the time," he began, stopping for a moment to curl his lips around his cigar and take in a breath of smoke.
Law picked up his new glass and held it to his lips, ghosting the word "Oh?" into the rim.
"I did happen to hear that you and 'Luffy-ya' were sleeping together." The words escaped into the bar in a cloud of smoke.
They didn't come as a real surprise, though. "God damn it," Law cursed against the glass. "How do people keep finding this shit out so fast?" That damned newspaper about their alliance had come out the next morning, and now motherfucking Crocodile of all people knew about their sex life before they'd even gone all way? That one wasn't even fair.
The burst of laughter from Crocodile was loud enough to startle the guy wallowing at the end of the bar into looking at them. "Seriously?" he said incredulously, "I can't even imagine that guy having a sexuality!"
Law shrugged, deciding the appropriate thing to go for here was probably nonchalance. "He's made of rubber. I do not understand how I'm the only one who has considered how that could be sexy. It was literally the first thing that I thought of when we met in Shaobody; how fuckable that shit is. He can bend like. ANYTHING."
Crocodile's face warped into a disgusted grimace. "For fuck's sake, don't make me imagine you plowing the Mugiwara! I still need to sleep tonight, damn it." At this point, the bartender hadn't even wandered off yet- was just waiting in front of the two of them for Crocodile to order another.
"You are the one who brought it up," Law argued, pointing at the other man with the one finger not curled around his cup - which, when had he emptied another? Hadn't this just been full? "I have been perfectly fine not talking about this to anyone until now." He paused. "I have also been significantly more sober than I am at this moment, though."
"I can tell you're drunk, you've gotten unnecessarily articulate."
"I can tell you're a bitch 'cuz of that look on your face," Law argued back logically, to Crocodile's great entertainment. The bartender also looked mildly amused, he noted foggily as he stared at the bright blue polish glinting off of her nails as one thin hand slid another glass into his hand. Why was he being handed this. Had he ordered this? It seemed plausible. He took a sip. "How'd you hear about... me and that, anyway? Were you gossiping like a teenage girl, Sir Motherfucking Crocodile?"
The older man seemed to be taking a perverse delight in the unfortunate state of Law's inebriation, not even touching his own glass anymore. "When that newspaper about you two taking down Doflamingo came out, just a few days after the one about your alliance was published. I heard more than one person snickering the idea to a friend in the town I was in."
"How many is more than one?"
"Two."
"That is more than one," Law agreed sagely. "Well that's fine, then. Since that was before we were even..." He paused, trying to figure out the word he wanted. 'Fucking' was sort of a lie, 'dating' was a lame and terrible word... What other words existed? "...Yet," he finished lamely.
Crocodile was actively grinning now. "How much did you drink before I got here, Trafalgar?"
Law thought about that. The answer was higher than it should be. "Fuck, I probably owe her so much money."
The bartender shrugged, smiling. "Not really - this shit's pretty much dirt cheap."
"Well, that's something at least." Law used both hands to brace himself on the bar's edge, pushing himself off and standing up. Oh shit - yeah, he was definitely drunk. "I think I need to go home now," Law said firmly, giving his head a few seconds to stop spinning before he grabbed his sword. "How much of my money am I supposed to give you for this transaction? Include the tip so I don't have to do math, please."
Crocodile laughed. "What say I cover this tab, and then also not ever tell anyone about tonight, and we'll call that Doflamingo thing a square deal?"
Law nodded. "I appreciate that. There is a slight chance I've said something stupid."
He had to say, Crocodile hadn't expected to have such a good night. Meeting Trafalgar had been an entertaining surprise, and when he paid the bill he found it was indeed, dirt-ass cheap. But the highlight of the night of course, was when she walked in.
Like something out of a Noire detective novel, when Nico Robin walked into the bar all eyes turned to her. She strolled in in a flutter of skirt swirling around her ankles, the open slit down the side revealing a flash of long leg with each step, and walked straight towards him.
"My, my," she smiled as she slid into the seat Trafalgar had vacated just a few minutes before. "If it isn't Sir Motherfucking Crocodile," she said, a hint of teasing in her voice.
"That's what they call me," He returned, trying not to show surprise at her arrival. To the bartender, he called "Tequila Mockingbird."
"You do know me too well," she said softly, her favorite secretive smile playing across her thin lips. When the girl behind the bar finished mixing her drink and set it front of her, Miss All-Sunday picked it up and began, "So. I've heard some pretty amusing things from my captain..."
Crocodile tried not to groan. "'Amusing', I'll bet." He pulled out a new cigar, his last one having long been snuffed out. "Look, in regards to that war, I had the same motivation of anyone else there. It wasn't about Mugiwara, or even Firefist by the end of it." He took a long drag of the cigar, letting the smoke swirl in his mouth before it escaped with his next words. "Every single pirate in the world wanted those two to make it out of there alive. I'm sure even your weird boy Trafalgar felt the same back then."
Robin laughed, a soft tinkling sound, and Crocodile had to force himself not to stare at the sight. "I'm quite certain," she agreed, taking the straw between her lips to suck in a drink of her cocktail. "Nonetheless, it pleased me to hear," she said cryptically. She leaned over in her seat towards him with a conspiritory glint in her eye, and his eye naturally followed the path of one of her long strands of hair as it fell off her shoulder in front of her breast. "But if you want to know about the really interesting things I heard about you, that would be when I spent a bit of time with the Revolutionary Army. Such amusing friends I made there!"
He raised one eyebrow in confusion. "Revolutio-" Crocodile's word was cut off by the horror that fell over his face. "Oh dear God. You don't mean-"
She chuckled lightly, leaning back on the stool once more and taking another sip of her drink. "I could only meet Iva-san for a short time, but when he realized I knew you he had quite a few fun things to say!"
Crocodile slapped his hand over his face, groaning into his palm. "Oh sweet Jesus, is there no mercy in this world?"
"Sure there is," there was of course, no hiding the laughter still in her voice, but the feeling of one of her delicate ankles running up the length of his calf was more than enough to make him look up again. "I just couldn't help but tease you a little when the chance comes up, you know?"
Nico Robin was still sitting prettily in the stool with her cocktail in one hand, and would look perfectly innocent if not for the spare hand that had appeared out of the leg of his barstool to rest meaningfully on his thigh.
Well. So that's what she had shown up for. He wasn't really surprised - Nico Robin was a woman who knew what she wanted and took it; always had been. It made just as much sense as anything in regards to reasons why she'd seek him out, after all.
"I see," Crocodile twisted the tip of his still-fresh cigar into the nearby ashtray on the bar top. "So that's how it is."
"I am a grown woman, after all," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I'm going to go out of my way to relieve tension, then I don't want to go wasting my time training in little boys."
Crocodile grinned. A straightforward answer in exactly the style he liked best about her. They were both adults here, weren't they? "Well, then I'd say we should take this somewhere a bit more private."
"We have rooms for rent available upstairs," The bartender offered suddenly, startling both of them into looking at her. The girl fidgeted. "We charge nightly or hourly?"
Robin and Crocodile looked at each other for a moment, then she shrugged and placed her still-half full glass onto the counter top and stood. "How convenient," she said, and waltzed towards the staircase, casting an enticing look over her shoulder at him as she left.
"Dude, you better tip me well, I just got you SO laid."
The scowl he sent the bar girl could have melted iron. She held up her hands defensively. "Well where were YOU gonna take her? You're dressed like some kind of pirate pimp, I bet your ship has leopard print sheets and reeks like manstank."
He stood up abruptly, slamming money onto the counter and grabbing the key she handed him in return. He absolutely did NOT have leopard print sheets. But. The whole ship did smell enough like stale cigar smoke to choke a horse, so. Bitch might have a point.
Her skin was paler now than he last remembered. He hadn't been sure he liked it at first, having loved the way the time spent in the desert sun with him had painted her skin in sepia, but when he saw the way the moonlight made her pale body glow, he could find nothing to complain about.
Getting her naked had been like unwrapping a present. Slowly peeling down the zipper of her shirt, rubbing his thumb lightly over the scar he'd left right between her breasts, usually concealed by the swell of her cleavage. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, then she wouldn't bear a grudge for it. They'd both known it had been nothing personal to it - not stabbing her after she'd lied would have just been bad business sense. And when he'd touched the pad of his finger to that off-white patch of skin, her only response had been to raise an eyebrow as if to say 'Really? That's what your interested in touching right now?' and he took it as an invitation to slide his hand over and fondle her left breast, leaning down to press a kiss against her neck at the same time.
Robin hummed a pleased breath of air at that, and Crocodile decided that she had been right about the merits of a partner whose body you already knew. She tossed her head to the side a little, a fountain of inky black hair tumbling to one side to expose her neck better, and he smiled against the pale skin of her throat. Woman certainly always did know what she wanted, didn't she?
A small hand pressed against his chest to push him backwards, but he knew what the gesture meant and stepped backwards towards the bed, his left arm looping around her torso to press the metal base of his hook against the small of her back to drag her with him. She had, of course, more than enough hands to be able to unbutton his shirt as they went, and also dig her fingers into his hair to keep his head attending her throat, and also grip his bicep, and also peel the her shirt of the rest of the way and drop it to the floor, because Nico Robin was the best thing to ever happen to the entire planet.
By the time he sat down on the bed with her slim body between his legs they were both shirtless, her soft breasts pressed flush against his chest. His trail of kisses and licks and bites moved down her neck towards her collarbone, and one of the two hands she normally had on her wound long fingers into the strands of his hair, tightening her hold when his mouth reached her right breast. She sighed, and he felt the long threads of her own hair fall down onto his shoulder as she leaned forward into the feeling of his tongue on her nipple.
He used his good hand to untie the knot on her skirt, and when the fabric fell to the floor her right hand slid down his bicep down the path of his arm, pulling it from where it was still wound around her waist to let it fall to the side, stepped backwards by just one step. When he looked up at her face, if was flushed red and glowing mischievously, her pretty pink tongue poking out to lick at her lips just the slightest bit.
He raised an eyebrow. She smiled, and very deliberately, pushed at his left arm until it fell between her long legs. His eyes fell downwards the path of her body, from her neck down past her breasts, below where white panties tightly clung to her hips, to where his hook fell between her knees, the gold glinting slightly in the light form the window.
Crocodile grinned. "You dirty little thing," he praised, and pulled her down to finally get a kiss onto those perfect lips while he reached up with his left arm to press the rounded bend of his hook up against her panties. She sighed into the kiss, winding her arms around his neck and rocking her hips downward, into the motion of his carefully maneuvering his artificial limb just so to be able to part her lips through the fabric of her underwear and settle the outward curve of the metal perfectly against her cunt to ride.
The most beautiful sound rumbled out of her throat, and he pulled away from her mouth that he might be able to hear the slightest hints of voice she let fall from her lips as they worked against each other, softly grinding his hook against her clit. She didn't make much noise, never had. Made the soft gasps and tiny moans she did let him have all the better, though - would prefer one little sigh from Nico Robin over the screams of any woman, truth be told. Every little hitch in her breath was its own reward - proof that he was getting to her, cracking that perfect veneer just enough to let him know she was feeling good.
If they had more time, he'd have liked to make her come like that - soak through her cute white panties and taste the wet trails she left behind on the metal of his limb- but she was already pulling away again. She back away just far enough to pull the underwear off her hips and step out of them, a second pair of arms coming out of the bedspread below Crocodile to unbuckle his pants.
"Subtle," he teased, his right hand reaching out to stroke a lock of hair over her shoulder from where it had fallen in front of her breast.
Robin just smiled her favorite smile, but she looked the slightest bit out of breath. "I'm a master of subtlety," she climbed onto his lap.
He put a steadying hand on her hip, leaning back to brace their combined weight on his right elbow, planting the arm against the bedspread. It took only a few more moments to fumble his pants open between their bodies, and then she was shifting her hips and slipping his cock easily into the wet heat of her body.
She sighed again, a hum of contentment as her cunt swallowed him down to the base, grinding her hips in the the slightest little circles and tossing her head back. She might have taken more time to enjoy the familiar stretch of being filled, but he didn't give her time to adjust before he was moving, the hand on her hip curling into a steadying grip as he withdrew just enough to be able to start fucking up into her.
He was rewarded with a moan, soft and pleased and real, and Robin started to roll her hips down to meet his. They rocked against each other like that for a while, Robin content to let him set the pace as she lazily swiveled her own, not bothering to try to match rhythms as much as luxuriate in roll of their bodies.
And then she leaned backwards, an extra pair of arms blossoming out of her back to brace against the bed as she picked up the pace, leaning her weight into the motion as she worked her hips harder to take in as much of his cock as possible. Crocodile kept his the push of his own hips in the same steady cant as before, grinning to himself as he watched Nico Robin squint her eyes closed in pleasure, panting loudly out of her open mouth and large breasts bouncing with her rhythm.
He could feel her thigh start to shake under his good hand, which meant she was either getting tired and about to slow down or about four seconds away from coming. Either way, Crocodile took that as his signal, and the grip on her pretty white hip turned bruising as he sped up, plowing into her wet cunt hard enough to make her breath hitch with every thrust like he was fucking the air out of her lungs.
She pushed herself forward again, enough to fall against his chest, and he changed the hold his right hand had from her hip to grope at her ass, fingers squeezing the flesh and steadying the increasingly erratic movements of her hips as she came closer to climaxing.
One of her hands dug into the bedspread underneath them, fingers curling the sheets into knots as her other hand clawed red streaks into his shoulder. Nico Robin didn't tend to make any actual noise when she came - she really couldn't, considering she usually stopped breathing for most of the duration of her orgasm. No, Robin didn't make any sound. Instead, her entire body talked for her. Every muscle in her body tensed up, from her shoulders down the the curl of her toes. And then, she began to writhe, body twisting and twitching as she gasped repeatedly, like the air just wouldn't reach her lungs - before finally, she relaxed, six feet of the sexiest woman in the world(3) melting in Crocodile's lap.
He wanted, right now, to push her onto her back and flips her legs over his shoulder so he could fuck her properly. Maybe bend her over - just roll her onto her stomach on the bed and shove his dick back into the tight, inviting heat of her body. he wanted to - well, he wanted to not pull out and thrust against her thigh until he came, but that is exactly what he did do. And then, quite belatedly, remembered he was still wearing pants, which he had probably just ruined with his jizz. Robin hummed in contentment, sliding off of his lap rolling onto her back on the bed, where, completely unconcerned by anything, she reached one lazy hand down to stroke herself between her legs, for no other reason than to enjoy the pressure of her own fingers.
Whatever, he could just buy new pants. You can't buy a sight like that.
Penguin yawned, trudging his way through the submarine towards the Captain's cabin. He still needed to talk to Sanji about plans for tomorrow – it seemed like everyone wanted to leave within the next day or so, but until then he didn't want to keep just winging all the meals randomly like they'd been doing today. As for right now, though, Captain had called to plead that Penguin save him from the perils of his own stupidity, and was thus on his way to Law's room with his hangover remedy.
What he found was the pathetic sight of Law stretched out across his bed, groaning miserably from where his face was pressed against Luffy's thigh while his boyfriend ran small hands through his hair with a look on his face Penguin could only describe as 'affectionate pity.' "Hey, Pen-guy," He greeted. "Sorry about this, but silly Torao came in all useless drunk, and I sorta still need to use him tomorrow."
The cook just waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine, I was still in the kitchen anyway." He gestured to the large glass of unpleasantly green liquid in his hand. "C'mon, Captain, you gotta sit up and stay awake long enough to drink all of this."
"'M gonna hurl," he muttered into Mugiwara's bare leg, because the boy was only wearing a conspicuously yellow over sized shirt, the origins of which Penguin could not possibly begin to guess, and apparently nothing else.
"Yeaaahhhhh, you are going to throw up a lot, sir." Penguin agreed, waiting for Luffy to help prop up his drunk captain before handing over the glass. Law had barely swallowed a single sip of the concoction before he was falling off the bed trying to reach his garbage can, immediately vomiting into it. Luffy patted his back.
"Yeah, exactly," Penguin observed. "So, make sure Captain drinks all of this, and then once he's done emptying his stomach into his trashcan, you'll need to give him these with a glass of water," he said, placing two little white pills on the desk.
"Got it," Luffy answered, rubbing little circles into Law's shoulder where the older pirate was still hunched over his bin. "C'mon, Torao, have another drink of this weird stuff so you can puke it back up."
"I'm gonna die," Law groaned miserably, not lifting his face from the can.
"No, you're not," Luffy reassured, pulling Law up by the shoulder and holding the glass to his mouth. "'Cause I'm here, and I'm gonna take care of you so tomorrow we can go outside in the light of day without your head splitting open."
Law spilled more of the remedy down his throat, eyes squeezed shut and face warped into a disgusted grimace. When he pushed the cup away, Penguin and Luffy both waited. Law also waited.
"I think... I think I'm good," Law said, hesitantly.
Penguin raised an eyebrow. "You're good? You're good as in you aren't about to throw up?"
"Yeah, I feel pretty good. I think I got this."
Luffy and Penguin waited for a beat. Law bent over and puked into the garbage can again.
"Thought that might be the case," the cook observed mildly.
Law moaned wretchedly, his voice echoing a bit from inside the garbage bin. "Ohhhhhh my Gooooodddd. How does this keep happening? Why do you always see me at my most pathetic? I swear to god I used to be cool, Luffy-ya. M'not just the loser you keep hanging out with."
"Awww, Torao, it's okay," Luffy looked a little bit like he was trying to politely smother a laugh behind Law's back. "This is just what a relationship is! You might not have thought much of it at the time, but you've seen my at my worst, too, remember? I'm supposed to be here when you're at your most pathetic. So I can help you get through it and back to less embarrassing times."
"You're too good for me," Law lamented, still face-first in a trashcan full of his own bile. "I love you so much."
"I know you do, Torao, and I love you, too." Luffy said, comfortingly. "I just wished you'd picked a better time than right now to say it."
"Fuck!" Law swore. "Me too. How am I so BAD at this?!"
Luffy really did start laughing at that, pressing his face into the back of Law's shoulder while his partner shoved the trashcan away so he could bury his face in his own hands.
Penguin backed out of the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.
However bizarre their relationship was, Penguin reasoned, Luffy would take care of his captain.
But for now he still needed to worry about goddamned breakfast for tomorrow, so Penguin still had shit to do. Off to the Thousand Sunny for him.
Sanji was still in the kitchen like he'd expected, but it seemed like he was on his way out the door. "Oh, hey man," he scratched at the back of his head. "I already pretty much did most of the prep work for tomorrow. Sorry you came over here for nothing."
"Well, I can't exactly say no to doing less work," Penguin shrugged. "But, do you have anything thawing that's gonna be nice and greasy? Captain's all drunk right now, gonna need to soak up the last remnants of tomorrow's hangover with like. Well, I know he'll eat bacon."
Sanji's face immediately warped into a scowl. "And tonight he's drunk. I fucking hate Trafalgar Law."
"If it makes you feel any better, the last I saw him he was somewhere in the area of hurling into a garbage can apologizing to your captain for being a terrible boyfriend."
"...That does help, actually." Sanji went to the freezer to pull out some fatty, low quality bacon he'd probably been planning on dumping into his garbage disposal of a captain. Well, not that Luffy wouldn't be eating any.
"So, um." Penguin started while the blond kicked the freezer door shut and tossed the frozen meat into the sink. "What happened to your wrist, anyway?"
Sanji looked at the bandages on his hand and clicked his tongue. "I had the displeasure of learning Miss Mag is a biter when aggravated."
Penguin's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "She BIT you? What the hell did you do to get her to BITE you of all things? I know she starts a lot of fights, but. This seems like new territory, right here?"
"Apparently," Sanji hissed, "it was because I'm an inflexible, closed-minded misogynistic bitch-boy."
"Uh," Penguin gaped, opening his mouth for a few seconds, no words falling out. "Um. Oh. Whoops?"
Sanji walked past him, "Yes. That has been my day. So if you will excuse me, I think I'd like to go to bed and try to sleep off my entire life."
"Aw, geeze," Penguin rushed to follow after the chef as he walked out the door. "Look, I'm sorry about the stuff I said this morning, I didn't mean to go off on you like that." He could admit to himself at least that he'd been projecting his own frustrations onto the guy. Yeah, Sanji's closed-mindedness and the whole 'ladies' thing were faults, but he didn't deserve to be literally torn apart by teeth just for being kind of a douchebag. They probably should have tried harder to keep he and Mag away from each other to begin with, if anyone had really thought about it they might have realized guys like Sanji rile her up more than anything...
"Well, don't be." Sanji shrugged, impressively managing to remove all traces of nonchalance the gesture inherently carried. "Because it turns out you were right, after all. I was talking to Nami-swan today and apparently everyone already knew all along about how gay Zoro was, include fucking Luffy, it was just ME who didn't goddamned notice. So. Top off the day with an extra 'fuck you.'"
Crap, Penguin felt so bad about this. He hadn't been trying to contribute to the complete freakin' ruination of Sanji's day, he just wanted to. Make him open his eyes a little. Fuck, he felt so bad now! Sanji-san spent all day cooking, was constantly taking care of his crew and even finding the time to teach Penguin how to be better at a job he should already have mastered by now. Sanji was such an amazing person, and Penguin just... Just wanted to be able to do something for him, to take of him the way he took care of the Strawhats... There had to be something he could do, something he could say before Sanji really did just leave to be alone and all miserable...
"Can- Can I give you a foot rub?!" Penguin shouted at Sanji's retreating back.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fucking fuckity- what the FUCK, Penguin, you are SO DUMB! HOW DID YOU LET THOSE WORDS COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?
The other chef slowly turned around, his one visible eyebrow raised so high it reached his hairline. "Excuse me?"
"Fuck." Now would be a good time for like, Marines to suddenly show up and shoot him In the face. That would be really convenient. "I didn't mean it in like – a perverted way, that came out so completely wrong, I'm so stupid. I swear to God I don't have a foot fetish!" Why, Penguin? Why is everything you say so terrible? Why do you keep talking when everything you say to him is the worst possible thing you could say?
Sanji's eyebrow remained rooted to his hairline, but now it was twisted into a furrow that clearly asked if there was something perhaps wrong with Penguin's brain. Which, obviously, there was. "Then what did you mean?"
Oh, thank Christ he was being given a chance to take his foot out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, though about how he was gonna say this. Took off his hat so he'd have something to wring in his hands. "Okay, It's just that. I felt bad about the telling you off bit, even if it was true and not even the worst part of your day. And I was thinking I wanted to be able to do something nice for you, since you've already taught me so much about cooking and motivated me and stuff and you were walking away so I said the first thing I could think of which was because I'm an idiot and also I kinda figured your feet must hurt?"
Sanji blinked at him. Rolled his cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other. Thought for a moment. And then finally, said "Okay."
Now it was Penguin's turn to blink. "Seriously?"
Sanji took the cig out of his mouth, blew a final breath of smoke into the air, and shrugged. "Yeah, sure." He snuffed the cigarette out. "I'm supposed to be more open-minded, right? And quite generally, I've had a shit night, and you're right. My feet DO hurt. I'm gonna say fuck it all and take you up on that."
Penguin's jaw dropped open a little, his face flushing red. Oh, shit, he hadn't expected that! Was this good luck or bad?! He didn't even know! "UHHHH I- I -uh – I'm uh- THANK YOU!"
Sanji raised his eyebrow a bit, shaking his head. "Riiiight. You're lucky I'm already used to weirdos."
–
Zoro yawned, wide and loud, as he hobbled through the Thousand Sunny to find an empty hammock to pass out in. It'd been a pretty good night, by his standards. After Nami had sent Bepo to fetch him and the captain out of the swampland they were wandering circles through, he'd been run into Daz Bones of all fucking people and spent the rest of the night drinking and getting into bar fights with the guy. So, obviously, an awesome time was had.
Until, on his way down to the men's bunk to crash out for the night, he passed by the Aquarium Bar. Whereupon inside, for some UNGODLY reason, there sat Sanji on one end of the couch, legs stretched out to the other side where the Heart Pirate's little pissant cook sat with one of Sanji's bare feet in his lap.
"Oh, what the FUCK." Zoro complained, more for the sake of cursing than any kind of actual desire to be heard. He was though, and he only really cared as far as the fact that the shit-chef had the decency to look embarrassed.
Managed to twist it into indignant rage real quick, though, and he bit back "What the fuck's YOUR problem, Marimo? I'm not allowed to get a foot rub if someone offers?"
Zoro scoffed, trying not let his eye linger on the bare calf revealed by the rolled up leg black pinstripe pants. "I don't have any problem," he snarled. "It's got absolutely fucking nothing to do with me."
"You don't sound like it has nothing to do with you," Sanji hissed back, still red-faced but obviously more because he was pissed off than anything else.
"Why don't you just the fuck out of my face about it. I SAID I don't have any goddamned problem, except that I've had to look at your rat-ugly face this long!"
It was his little friend was starting to look more uncomfortable than anyone. "Uhhhhhh, you know what Maybe I should just head back!"
"No," Sanji refused. "You stay right there. You're not doing anything wrong, and if this asshole has something to say, he should just fucking come out and say it!"
Annoying ass stubborn son of a bitch! "FINE THEN," Zoro growled. "You're right! My problem ISN'T with him, it's with you!"
"Finally, we're getting somewhere!" Sanji goaded, now sitting completely upright on the couch to face Zoro while the Heart pirate tried to sneak away.
"Wow, you know, I really don't wanna be caught up the middle of... whatever kind of tension you two have going, here, so I'm just gonna-"
Zoro barely even noticed him, his world narrowing down to the white-hot knot of agitation the bastard chef could invoke just by existing. "You're so goddamned annoying all the time, you know that? Every minute of every day is devoted to worshiping the female form, and not even because Nami and Robin are incredible as people, but just because you like the way they can get your dick hard! Not that the way you talk to men is any better, since apparently we're all worthless scum not fit to lick Nami's feet and the only people you'll actually interact with like HUMANS are Chopper and, if you're feeling SUPER generous or bored, Usopp! So every second of every day, you're already irritating as all shit and back, and now you've only loosened up enough for me to walk in on you getting a goddamned foot rub from THIS jackass!"
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Sanji shot back, quick as a whip-crack. "It hasn't got anything to do with you, unless you're saying YOU wanna rub my feet!"
"WELL, MAYBE I DO!" The words had already left Zoro's mouth to hang awkwardly in the room like the stank of fish before it actually occurred to him what he'd just shouted.
Penguin stood up. "WOW. That was fun. I'm glad I was there for this, and nothing is weird here at all. Goodnight!" He walked out the door before either man even fully registered him, both of them still staring at each other with their jaws gaping like either one of them was actually gonna provide a decent answer here.
It was, eventually, Sanji that reacted first. His reaction was not what Zoro might have expected it to be. "Well, FINE! Do it, then!"
"What?!"
A long leg swept out towards Zoro as Sanji, red-faced as a cherry tomato and scowling haughtily, wriggled his toes with meaning. "Penguin only got to one foot before you scared him off. I still want my foot rub, damn it!"
Zoro stared at that appendage for a few seconds, his face twisting back into its default scowl. "WELL since I already said what I did, it looks like I haven't given myself any choice, now have I?!" He shouted like this was Sanji's fault and not his own stupid ass's. He trudged to the far end of the couch that Penguin had vacated and thudded heavily into the seat, reluctantly turning around to face the other man only once his bare foot was dropped into Zoro's lap.
It was... smaller in his hands than he'd expected. Zoro knew he and Sanji were about of a height, and knew that the blond was slimmer than him. It did make sense for Sanji's feet to be a bit smaller than Zoro's considering the difference in weight they had to carry; and they weren't even little feet or anything – Luffy's were way tinier, in comparison. Zoro supposed he must have expected them to be larger because he'd felt their kicks so many times – the guy could make a pinpoint strike with the ball of his foot feel like he'd caved in your whole torso.
Since he was pointedly not looking at Sanji right now, Zoro couldn't see that Sanji was also very deliberately not looking at him. "The ball and heel are pure callous and don't have much feeling, so you can probably just focus on the arch and toes," He muttered helpfully. Curious, Zoro tested the toughened skin, pinching at the heel and digging his thumb into the thick pad just below the big toe.
The sound Sanji made was enough to make Zoro look up, a sort of strangled whine the cook smothered under his hand. "Nevermind," he mumbled into his palm, still not looking at Zoro. "You seem to have a handle on this, carry on."
Zoro quickly dropped his eye back to the foot in his hands, careful not to let his gaze catch the sight of Sanji stretched out on a couch with one foot extended into Zoro's lap. Stupid sexy bastard. Whatever, he could do this. It would be weird, and it would be awkward, but fuck if the swordsman wasn't at least going to make this the best goddamned massage he'd ever given. And Roronoa Zoro had, in his life, given out an almost embarrassingly large number of foot massages by now. To Nami when he owed her money, to Robin when she'd mindfuck him into it without Zoro noticing, and of course to goddamned Perona, who would use any time Zoro was too injured to resume training (or stab her) to force him to be her personal doll and make him waltz and have tea parties and rub her feet, and by the end of two years she didn't even have to use her depressing ghost powers on him anymore because that hellhole was so boring hanging out with her had been the most excitement on the whole island. Of course, Sanji's feet weren't nearly close to small and delicate like all of the girls' had been, which meant Zoro could use as much pressure as he wanted without, oh say for example, being kicked in the face while Nami shouts that he's about to rip her toes off. So that was good.
But there was still no pretending this wasn't absolutely weird. The silence that hung in the air was probably the most awkward Zoro had ever had the displeasure to choke on, and he could feel his own face burning hot with embarrassment, nearly equal to Sanji's. All that fucking gonorrhea whiskey must have gone his head, after all, for him to open his stupid mouth like that now of all times. Just when he'd gotten so good at ignoring the cook altogether, too. He just had to get through this, preferably without actually looking at Sanji, and then they could both go back to largely pretending the other doesn't exist like normal.
"S-so what is it with that anyway?" Sanji sputtered after a while, apparently desperate to break the silence. "Guys and... my feet, I guess."
Zoro tried not to choke. "It's not your feet," he responded honestly. Shit, it wasn't like anything he said could possibly make this any worse, right? Just fucking tell the guy. "It's about your legs," he explain, indulging himself in just a moment of sweeping his right hand up and down the skin of his calf as an enunciation of his words.
"AH." Sanji squeaked, and Zoro couldn't help that he looked up at that, and they locked eyes for just a split second before the cook once again looked away towards the fish tank, mouth still covered by his hand. "I suppose that makes sense. To a guy attracted to other guys, my legs would be..." He trailed off awkwardly, bringing his other hand up so he could completely cover his face. "YEP. THIS IS NOT AWKWARD AT ALL."
"I don't know what you're talking about. This is clearly the smartest thing either of of us has done with our lives. I've never been more comfortable." Zoro said back with a perfect deadpan, enough to make Sanji snort an aborted laugh into his hands.
And then suddenly, like all the fight had been drained out of him at once, Sanji forced himself to relax, hands falling from his face with a deep sigh. "Just when I thought today wasn't gonna get any weirder," he sounded exhausted. "Then here we are."
"Here we are," Zoro agreed, deciding that at least now that he wasn't so tense the foot rub would be easier. He set to focus on his task, carefully prodding at the thick skin to test for the most sensitive areas. Massages were a lot easier if the person worked with you, let you know what the sore areas were. Perona had been pretty vocal, but Robin never said anything, so he'd ended up learning to read any little sign; a twitch of the toes here, a light sigh there. Sanji had been incredibly unhelpful while he was all tense, but now that he'd given up and relaxed into it, Zoro could pick up a bit more.
The heel was probably what hurt the most, right? It was the place most of his kicks landed with. Maybe if he just sort of dig his fingers in sides just where the callous turned back to normal skin hard enough... Sanji made another high whine, his hand once again flying up to cover his mouth. Zoro desperately ignored the reaction, telling himself that yes, good job, that meant this was the spot. Nothing else. He focused on running pressure all along that seam, then put both of his thumbs to the bottom of the heel and jabbed the hardened skin with as much force as he could. Which had apparently been the right amount, judging by the pleased little hum he could hear escape between Sanji's fingers. Well, of course he'd like it rough, right?
NOPE, wrong train of thought, let's just leave that where it lies. Zoro moved his thumbs upwards into the arch, not letting up on the pressure as worked the digits in small circles in the relatively softer flesh. And ignored the noise Sanji made. What noise? There was no sexy sighing noise! Just the sounds of a foot rub well executed. Yep.
The ball was nearly as tough as the heel, and Zoro concentrated the pressure on the seams where each toe met, before carefully moving upward to the bottom of the toes where they met the foot, using less pressure at the more sensitive joints. He was rewarded by Sanji biting out a sharp hiss of a curse, the word "Shit," breathed out in a tone so low it couldn't be read as anything but a compliment. Don't look up, Zoro told himself firmly. Just look at what you're doing. The toes, the toes were next, right? He started with the smallest, rolling the small digit in his fingertips, before pulling on it hard enough to hear a relieved crack. Sanji may have huffed out tiny bits of breath through his nose as Zoro did each toe, but he wouldn't know because of hard hard Zoro was currently not listening.
And then, Zoro reached the top of his foot, moving his hands around the soft flesh of Sanji's bare ankle and precisely massaging the sore tendons. And oh God, did Sanji moan. If Zoro didn't know better he'd have claimed the sound was deliberately and maliciously erotic, and took all of his will power not to look up and see what kind of face he must making right now. Just. Just concentrate on the goddamned foot rub, Zoro, you dumb fucking son of a bitch. Fuck, the bottom of his calf was hard as iron under his fingertips. There was no way Sanji would let him rub his legs, too, right?
"Why is your face all red!?" Sanji suddenly demanded loudly, breaking the spell of quiet that had fallen over the room. "Oh my god, do you have a boner right now!?"
"What? NO!" Zoro defended in a shout of his own. He had a semi. There was a DIFFERENCE. "I'm just humiliated on your behalf for all the sounds you've been making this whole time! It's like listening to the world's most boring porno!"
Sanji yanked his foot out of Zoro's hand, and whether his face was red from embarrassment or rage he couldn't tell. "YEP, I think this has gotten weird enough! We're done here!" He stood up abruptly.
"Thank Christ!" Zoro stood up, himself. "I'm going far away to a place that doesn't have any YOU around!"
"That sound just perfect to me!"
Zoro stormed off towards the crow's nest while Sanji went into the men's bunk, both of them red-faced and refusing to make any kind of eye or physical contact, each of them stomping until the other was out of sight.
Jeeeeesus. What the FUCK had just happened? Fuck. Whatever it was, now they were both going to be more on edge around each other than they'd ever been. Which Zoro wasn't even sure was POSSIBLE anymore.
Inanely, that was when Zoro remembered last night when Sanji had promised to play the piano for him. Unable to find any more suitable way to react, Zoro burst out laughing.
–
Penguin ruffled his hair awkwardly, trying to put the entire catastrophe that had been the last half hour out of his mind. Well, now he knew for sure where he stood with Sanji-san, right? With Roronoa Zoro mixed into whatever this was, Penguin didn't even stand half a chance. But he knew form the start it had been hopeless, he supposed.
At least back on his own ship he could forget the whole thing for a while. Well, until breakfast when he saw Sanji again, anyway.
Except that Penguin couldn't just go straight to sleep, because now he had to deal with this, apparently. "Kazu!" He shouted into the dark hallway, the radiologist scrambling from where he was lying on the floor in front of his door and answering with an automatic salute. "For fuck's sake, man, why are you sleeping in the hallway?"
The blond fidgeted mousily, not looking Penguin in the eye. "I- um. Sano and Gawaine and Buccha kicked my out of our room again, and normally I sleep in the infirmary when they do that, but I can't when Mag is already there so I just sport of... Gave up and lied down."
Penguin slapped his hand to his face. "Oh for the love of God. You can't just let them push you around like that, man!"
"Well," Kazu smiled, helpless and watery. "Last time I tried is also that time when I was pushed off the railing of the ship and broke my leg on the dock, so I figure it's best to just... Do what they say?"
The cook sighed. Why was everyone still such an asshole to this poor kid? They'd gotten Caesar Clown, he wasn't the newest member on the crew anymore! "Oh my god, it's like the whole stupid ship is a junior high!" He shook his head. "We'll get you switched into the room with Nue and Gabishi, they don't care enough to be assholes to you. But for right now, come on." Maybe they should like, force him to hang out with Mag and Gabishi more. Whenever those two went out they got into some kind of public brawl, maybe if Kazu got dragged into enough of them he'd actually learn how to fight.
Kazu perked up, following Penguin as he led them back down the hallway again towards the kitchen. "A lot of the time I can't sleep because of Shachi or Jean Bart, so I set up a cot in here when I wanna be alone," he explained, pulling a ratty mattress out of a thin cabinet stuffed between the fridge and wall and spreading it out on the narrow floor. "You can sleep here tonight, and if this shit keeps happening just. Come tell me, I'll give you the key and you can crash in here."
"Thank you so much!" Kazu said, bowing dramatically. "I can't tell you what this means to me!"
Penguin looked at the cot on the floor, one eyebrow raised. "It's. Literally the least I could do, so. No big deal."
But the radiologist shook his head quickly. "No, it's so much more than that! Out of everyone on the ship, you're the only one that's really been nice to me, you know? If it wasn't for you I'm not sure how long I could have lasted in this place." He was shaking a little, bending his head too low for Penguin to see his face. "I'm sorry for always causing you trouble, I know I'm a pathetic excuse for a pirate. But I really will get stronger, I swear! So until then, thank you for looking out for me!"
"Aw geeze," Penguin rubbed at the back of his head awkwardly. "It's really no big deal, the guys aren't assholes ALL the time! Er. Your welcome, I guess."
Kazu finally stood back up straight, beat-red in the face but beaming with pride. Been trying to say that for a while, hadn't he? Poor fucking brat. Penguin couldn't quite resist the urge, reached over and ruffled the blond hair. "Goodnight, Kazu." He said, only to see the kid smile like that simple gesture of faint affection was the highlight of his fucking life.
Penguin sauntered back to his own room in a better mood. Well, even little beats like that could be cute once a while, right?
The morning was a good one. Why wouldn't it be? It had been a great night. Daz Bones sat on a dock watching the sun rise over the waters, casting the world in early morning reds with a plate full of quail egg omelet on his lap. Behind him, Crocodile appeared, wearing half of last night's clothes and holding the rest on his arm as he stood next to his first and watched the sun come up.
"Did you get laid last night?"
A breath of cigar smoke wafted over Daz's head. "Yep."
"Nice. Me and Roronoa found a guy with scorpions for hands."
"Kick his ass?"
"You know it."
"Nice."
The stayed there for a while. Daz Bones took a bite out of his omelet. It was a fine damned breakfast, just the right amount of green pepper.
"The world's a crazy fucking place, isn't it?" Crocodile observed idly.
"I'd say so," Daz agreed.
"Seems to me like the only way to survive in a world this crazy is be pretty nuts yourself, huh?"
The faces of all the Shichibukai ran through his mind. He nodded. "Seems like it."
There was another beat of silence. Daz Bones finished the last bite of his omelet. Crocodile snuffed his cigar out on his hook, and declared: "Let's break Bon Clay out of prison."
Well. He'd never really liked that guy at all, but. He had to agree – the idea was downright insane. "If they didn't expect Mugiwara, they're sure as hell not going to expect us."
–
(1)Read: Gaydar.
(2) There was indeed, one tattoo on Law's ass. It was the image of a leopard attacking a large heart shape, inside which bore the words "I sold my balls to Benkei." Law had, to this day, no idea how he'd gotten this tattoo or who Benkei was, and and indeed only knew it existed because Bepo had read it aloud to him.
(3) Boa Hancock was, technically, the most beautiful woman in the world. However, she could not, in all honestly, also claim the title of sexiest due to the simple fact that it was a little impossible to be properly sexy when one did not have sex at all. In another lifetime far away, she and Luffy might have married, and the idea that they could even HAVE sex would never occur to either party for the entirety of their blissful joined lives.
AN: I PROMISED SEX, DIDN'T I? YOHOHOHO! No but seriously, how many people actually finished that Crobin scene once they realized I was really gonna do the whole thing? Because totes legit, wrote it for me and my sister, don't even expect any for you guys to read it. As far as I'm concerned I just trolled y'all, hahaha.
No but, the next chapter I swear to god will actually be lawlu again, they're even gonna chitty-chitty bang-bang I promise for realsies.