Law's back hit the steel wall with a soft thud. If it weren't Penguin cornering him, terror would be unfurling in his chest rather than a slightly hysteric chortle bursting forth through his speech.
"Excuse me?"
His lashes fluttered in genuine bewilderment, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline at his friend's words. Penguin looked down at him along the bridge of his nose, emerald eyes glinting in the bright white light of the submarine*.
"This has to stop."
Law blinked again. His arms were raised beside his head against the cold steel, as if he was being pinned by an unseen assailant. He dropped them quickly, disgust undulating in his throat.
"That!" Penguin pointed at his face and Law's eyes crossed unbidden, sudden ocular pain increasing his already severe headache. He couldn't even tell if it was due to dehydration, starvation, or sleep deprivation.
"You're going to put yourself into an early grave before you even complete your goal." He growled. Penguin's voice was harsh, leaning forward to put himself in an all-encompassing view.
It hadn't been even two weeks since he had induced the abortion, and the decline in his health had only been exacerbated. He was well aware of the way his stomach had visibly caved in hunger, his decreased muscle tone, the dizziness and fatigue that plagued his every waking moment.
The nightmares that stalked the others.
The only reason he was walking the halls was because his handy supply of 'custom medication' had run out and he was desperate for a refill. So he had skulked from his room, dressed in a reversed shirt and baggy pants saturated in sweat, only to be cornered feet from his office by his irate first mate.
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." His voice was steady but the words sounded flimsy to his own ears.
"I can see that."
Golden eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not patronizing you. I'm merely saying, as your friend, that I cannot sit by as you waste away on self-loathing and tonic."
"I didn't ask for your help." His bitter voice rose with his temper, the dim flame rekindling with whatever strength he had left to spare for pettiness.
"I'm not offerring. I'm in command when you are unfit for duty or otherwise detrimentally absent."
"Don't you dare." His hair bristled with fury, his tongue coming to poke between his teeth as he foamed with rage. He was met with flat eyes and a stoic expression, his anger ready to manifest into violence.
"Try me."
Law swung his fist and missed by a mile. Penguin's hair rustled slightly as he passed. His energy and breath left him with his anger, and he slumped onto his friend in defeat. He felt so defeated, so empty, standing suddenly didn't seem worth it.
"C'mon Law, let's get you into a shower, alright? Shachi's cleaning your room and Bepo's making you stew."
Law let himself be led by the hand towards the trio's bedroom, where they shared a large private bathroom. The tears wouldn't stop coming, and he was beginning to get light headed from walking so much. Penguin let him pause to vomit on the floor, keeping a hand on his shoulder as he doubled over with the effort. Nothing but drops of acid dripped from his parted jaws, but he still choked on the nausea as his stomach forced up things that weren't there.
When the spell passed, so did Law, his vision darkening quickly as his exhaustion caught up to him, his body sinking further to the floor. He lacked awareness, so different from drifting to sleep.
His consciousness returned in a bathtub, Penguin scrubbing his chest with a soapy washcloth, the feeling akin to being licked by a large dog. His friend's hat was off in a strange form of respect, and he paused when Law's bright eyes met his. Law was too tired to put up any form of a fight, and the ministrations were comforting, so he slipped back into a dreamless void.
When he woke up again, he was lying in the top bunk Penguin always kept empty for him. He couldn't sleep in beds where he felt someone could lean over him and trap him. Tucked beneath silken sheets procured especially for him, his head cushioned by a feather pillow, Law felt safe. His hair was pleasantly warm, recently dried after a thorough washing and conditioning, his skin rubbed with lotion that was neither sticky nor clammy. He was naked, from what he could tell, save for what felt like a pair of cotton panties** when his thumb brushed his hip.
"What about dinner?"
He couldn't tell what time it was, in a submarine there is no concept of night and day. The lights were out and the world was dark, but he could tell there was someone in the room with him and did not feel threatened.
"Don't worry about that, Bepo's already put it in the fridge. Go back to sleep Law, I'll have Shachi bring you water once he's done."
Cloaked in darkness, he couldn't tell the difference in leaving his eyes open, and only knew he had fallen asleep once the colors began to burst behind his eyelids.
Bright pink feathers...
A glass bowl filled with candy...
Lavender sheets soaking in his blood...
A pink leopard collar...
A heavy bamboo staff whistling through the air...
A shattered hand...
Black feathers...
Flaming coat...
A hand large enough to crush his head...
A hand large enough to choke him...
Bright blue skies...
Golden tiles adorned in white spiraling patterns...
Long hardwood tables covered in decorous meals...
Thin wires around his neck...
His intestines slipping through his fingers...
A gelatinous creature splattered beneath him...
Reflective orange glasses on a bedside table...
Insidious vitiligo...
Burning buildings...
Gunshot...
Father's grip leaving a bruise on his shoulder...
Mother sewing the same dress in two sizes..
Tiny hands...
Bright blue eyes...
Cradling something in his lap...
A bedtime story...
Something about boats...
Something about an island...
Something about living forever...
Something...
Something...
Something about dying young...
Someone was holding a cup to his lips and a hand cupped his head to coax him to sit up. The comforter slipped from his neck and pooled about his waist. Cold air prickled his torso, his nipples hardening in response. Gooseflesh rose on his arms as an elbow brushed the metal wall. He drank avariciously, appreciating how the cool liquid slipped down his throat without leaving a lingering taste. His tongue taste faintly of mint, his gums faintly swollen. His nails had been trims, he noted as he curled his legs in to turn over on his side. Rarely did he sleep in a bed that wasn't close to the wall, enjoying the comfort of having a wall at his back. He pulled up the comforter to separate his bare skin from steel, and lifted his knees to his chest to settle into the fetal position. Normally he slept with a body pillow, bending his neck and torso over the top like he was shielding a child, the pillow wedged between his legs, his arms encircling as if embracing a lover***.
Shachi left without a sound, or he slipped back into his mockery of a dream too soon to hear him leave. This time his dream was less of spinning snippets of his life and more of a linear storyline.
Someone was kissing his throat. It was just gentle presses of dry lips against his pulse, but it was enough to excite his heartbeat. Rough palms on his waist, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. His bare chest was pressed against another, enough to know his lover was much broader. He felt fear stirring in the pit of his stomach. It could have been arousal. He wasn't sure there was a difference anymore.
The faceless man nuzzled just underneath his jaw and his hands rose to tangle long fingers in his hair. The colors of a ripe sunset filled his vision as the man hummed against the warm skin under his lips and nipped at the hollow of his throat. A light skimming of teeth beneath his ear, lips moving to nibble at his earrings in a fawn-like manner. These soft gestures of affection were as foreign to him as the man who held him, his body tensing reflexively in anticipation of pain.
No pain came as the man continued, but the fear snowballed with each innocuous touch.
The man's hands slid down his back to rest above his pelvis, and terror made itself known in Law's eyes in the form of blurring tears. His pants remain untouched as the stranger began to knead knuckles into taut flesh. Strangled moans rose from his throat as he arced back into the bedsheets. When had there been a bed behind him? When had he been laying down?
His muscles spasmed in a cycle of pain and release, his shoulders sagging in pleasure at the massage. The noises leaving his mouth were not his own, a rising swirl of titillating mewls and protracted moans. As the tension left his overworked muscles, so did his dread. He was lost in a euphoric high, and ground his hips into the mattress in a wordless plea. As if acting on instinct, his legs wrapped around the stranger's waist, tugging their hips together. The man let out a small hiss by his ear, but its familiarity was lost with the feeling of heat between his legs.
The male's erection seared through his jeans, arousal blossoming in his core and snaking up his body. The thickness pulsing against his sex felt heavenly. He found himself in want of more heat, the fear buried by gene-born lust.
"I want it." He breathed, buried his face in the crook of the others neck, inhaling the scent of grease and metal.
"No you don't." Came the stranger, and Law's eyes flew open. He pulled back to look into the face of his paramount, at the painted smile and tousled blonde hair.
"Cora-san?"
Law awoke with a warm dampness between his legs and no recollection of the cause. His cheeks ignited with shame. It was still pitch dark, and there was still the soothing, silent presence of his second-in-command. The others weren't in the room, as far as he could tell, and the tempo of Penguin's breathing let him know the other was asleep. I better not have made any embarrassing noises...
The slick between his legs was beginning to trail across his thigh, and the last thing he wanted was to stain the sheets his friends had so lovingly bought for him. He peeling off the comforter and shivered at the frigid temperatures. Beneath the covers was a furnace just for him, a safe den of warmth and comfort, so he quickly slipped the sheets back in place and began to descend the latter. His state of dress, or lack thereof, made him hyper aware of his movements and the wet patch on his underwear. The slick smeared across the back of right thigh and caused anxiety to swim in his stomach. He wanted to cry as he padded softly into the bathroom.
There was a fresh change of clothes waiting for him on the toilet seat, his favorite lounging clothes of plush white cotton. He cleaned up with a washcloth, washing it thoroughly in the sink before drying himself with a terrycloth towel. He hung the washcloth over the arm of the sink to dry, and cut up the used panties with a pair of nose hair clippers before flushing the scraps down the toilet. He quickly dressed in the fresh clothes before sanitizing the scissors and returning them to their place in the mirror cabinet.
The soft cotton shorts and tank top were pleasant on his warm skin, but did little against the chill.
When he returned to the safety of the sheets he found them cold.
Law nudged the small bowl in front of him with his spoon, sucking his bottom lip. When he finally emerged from the dark, he found himself three days into the future. Penguin helped him into more appropriate clothing, and the jeans felt loose on his thighs. He had lost enough muscle to start burning fat, the contours of his cheeks becoming more defined.
His stomach was shrunken and feeble, but he gave into his friends coaxing towards the cafeteria. The mess hall was empty, everyone either working or sleeping, but he still felt vulnerable sitting out in the open. Penguin and Shachi flanked him, their presences calming, but the vast room around them felt far too large.
Penguin was drinking a glass of rum which he desperately craved, but he owed it to his crew to recover the best he could. He had a plan, after all, and dying wasn't an element until much later-no matter how many times he forgot and searched for ways to end his life. He fingered a dark stain on the steel tabletop, and thought about Eustass Kidd. He had been so adamant that he keep his life, but for what purpose? What reason did he have to be so invested in him? Such kind words spoken to such an undeserving person like him, no matter how many times he received an answer it never made sense to him.
What do you want from me in return?
He had denied his advances, pushed him away and wrapped him in a blanket. He had held him while he slept. He had been concerned rather than aroused.
Eustass Kidd.
Strange man.
Next time I see you I'll try giving you something else.
Bepo appeared behind him but, before he could turn to greet him, his bowl was tugged away and an enormous stockpot was dropped in its place with such weight that the table creaked in protest. He gaped at the heavy silver pot before him and squawked his outrage with such indignation that his friends incited in raucous laughter.
"That's too much!"
He indulged them and indulged himself as he shoveled macerated mush into his mouth. It was a myriad of tastes and he couldn't tell if it was delicious or not, but the texture was enough to make him gag. For someone so malnourished, Bepo had definitely blend as many nutritious foods as he could. He wouldn't be surprised if egg had been melded into the concoction. Four spoonfuls was all he could ingest, and his friends made no comment on the size of his stomach.
He would have preferred rice or fish with a side of salt, but he held his tongue. He didn't deserve their kindness or their time, but they didn't care how he felt about their treatment.
For now, he would relent to being their patient.
His recovery was painfully slow, his waking moments as ephemeral as his stamina. At one point he was moved to a different room with a raised bed so he could be fed intravenously. His dreams were blank, his nightmares considerably vivid. More than once he had to be restrained to the bed as he convulsed in phantom agony, his voice rising in shrill screams and mockery of the human language. Bepo and Penguin were gone most of the day, their navigational and commanding duties pressing them for time, while Shachi remained as his vigilant caretaker.
When he was unable to sleep for fear of images from the past, Shachi would tell him bedtime stories from his own top bunk, his voice drifting pleasantly between them. They were stories he never heard before, only serving to remind him how bereft he was of a proper childhood. It was Lami would receive the only fairytale he knew by heart, letting her bounce on his knee and marvel at the swirling pastel sketches. It was Lami who, on occasion, was taken to bed by their mother and read the bedtime stories every child knew, while Law would hole himself in the library and read collegiate textbooks until his eyes crossed.
Fingers carded gently through his hair in moments of blurry twilight, soothing whispers lulling him into the embrace of sleep. He was taken on walks around the back of the submarine, all personnel cleared beforehand, in which he was privy to the amount of muscle tone he'd lost. With every step he felt as if he was walking with a weighted vest. Many times he needed to walk with a rolling IV drip and took frequent rests. He was a shell of his former glory, but he saved his shame for a sunny day.
Eventually he was able to hold down a whole bowl of soup and, though he remained stoic, he was proud of his accomplishment. His health rose and plateaued during the next three weeks, in which he had plenty of time to think about nothing. His friends kept him as busy as they could when he was conscious. He had the uncanny ability to turn anything into a torrential downpour of negativity.
Between spoonfuls of rice and handfuls of vitamins, his thoughts drifted towards his red-haired ally.
"Perhaps he's keeping himself out of trouble? What with not needing our services..." Law muttered one day, Shachi buttoning the front of the black jumpsuit he rarely wore. It made him indistinguishable from his crewmen, which was precisely its function. It wouldn't do for one of his uninformed subordinates stumbling upon their captain in such a feeble state. Got to keep up good morale, after all.
Shachi paused, his fingernails clicking on the metal clasp.
"W-Well, actually..."
Law frowned down at the male, nearly a foot taller than the ginger.
"Shachi." He warned.
"Did we have visitors aboard our ship without my knowledge?"
Shachi's hands fluttered nervously over the last two buttons, unsure how to proceed.
"U-uh I-"
Law could see the sweat beading on Shahi's bare forearms, and let out a soft chuckle, causing the other to freeze.
"Law! You laughed!"
The man broke out in a wide grin, and Law looked away, embarrassment crawling up his neck. Shachi's joy was contagious, and he could practically feel the glitter in his eyes. A warmth swelled in his belly, and he smiled broadly.
It was his first real smile in over two months.
Waves lapped gently at the hull of the wine-colored galleon, the bow level on the placid sea. Salt crusted in arcs above the waterline. On the deck, safe from the ocean's clutches, Eustass Kidd sighed into the wind.
"That's the seventh time and the countless' time this week. So, what's her name~?"
Kidd didn't deign Blake with his expression, keeping his back to the muscular woman. Instead, he leaned further over the rail guard, his eyes darting to the ocean below. Though impossible, he sometimes pondered what it would be like to swim, just once. Freshwater lakes weren't common in the Blues, and he had never made it a priority to find housing by a community pool. He may not know how to swim but he didn't think it could be very hard. You just move your limbs about and try not to drown, right?
"I don't know what you're talking about." he lied, "And shouldn't you be preoccupied elsewhere? Like the helm, perhaps?"
When he turned to look at her she had a worn cigar clenched between her teeth. With her arms crossed in a way that showed off her large biceps, buzz cut hair, forever stoic expression, and trademark cigar-she looked a bit like someone he knew.
"Have I ever told you that you look like White Chase Smoker?"
She huffed smoke out her nostrils, deadpan expression never changing.
"Four times a week."
"Ah, and it's still a coincidence?"
"Purely."
"Splendid."
"So who's gonna steer the ship if you're up here dicking around with me?"
"Scooter's got it under control, besides-" she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, "I've got 400 beli going with Wire that you have a crush on someone and I bet you my best cigars I know who it is."
"No you don't."
"See, so there must be someone."
"Fuck you."
"Maybe in sixteen years, when you've found a way to get over yourself."
"That was a low blow."
"I can go lower if you want. So let's here it, am I 400 beli richer and out of my good smokes? Trafalgar Law."
"..."
"Looks like I've got some spending money for our next stop. Do you want me to drop off my Diamonds****?"
"I'll pass."
"So...?"
"So nothing. This conversation is over."
"I highly doubt it, you can't keep sighing like a lovesick sailor forever, Captain. Can't you call him, or something? Ask for a booty call? It's not hard."
Kidd squinted as if he could somehow pick out the meaning of the latter part by scrutinizing her flat expression. Surely she hadn't just admitted to calling in booty calls, had she? No, fucking idiot she mean't it's not hard to call him.
"He's unavailable."
"How long can be unavailable for? You had to get checked out by some grunt in a jumpsuit when we went over. He can't be busy all the time."
"Clearly, he can."
"Whatever, fine. Just can you please call again tonight? Everyone's sick of you plodding around and huffing like a lovelorn schoolgirl."
"Noted. Can we move on from this subject, please? Want to play a round of cards?"
"Sure, got nothing better to do."
"You could do your job?"
"After I kick your ass at poker."
Kidd retired early that night, eager to call Law after all that prodding. He hadn't called in three weeks, though he yearned to. Still, he had kept his word to Killer's boyfriend.
He'd gotten a cold which moved into his chest, so he called Law.
"I'm sorry, Law's not available at the moment, but we can surface beside you and deal with you ourselves."
"...Is he still not feeling well?"
"..."
"..."
"Mister Eustass, I'm going make this as clear as I can. Law is in no position to try to make friends with anyone, let alone a rival Captain. Whether you're just being nice or have a genuine interest in Law, you need to understand that he's in a vulnerable state where his usual filters do not apply. Without inhibitions, Law's likely to slip up and say things he would never normally say, and do things he'd later regret doing. Please do not try to engage him for the next few weeks, though I would be pleased if you ceased contacting him all together."
"What the hell is your problem?"
"My 'problem', Mister Eustass, is that I have a responsibility to take care of him as both my captain and my friend, and I've known him much longer than the few chats you've shared. He's not in his right mind and if you continue this you're simply taking advantage of his weakness."
"BULLSHIT! I'm not taking advantage of anything! And hell-he might not be mentally sound but he can sure as fuck make decisions for himself!"
"If you do not lower your voice to an appropriate volume I will hang up and you will die of pneumonia. Contract be damned."
"..."
"Are we clear?"
"Don't push your luck."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Mister Eustass. Now, tell me your coordinates and we can put this alliance to some use, shall we?"
Kidd couldn't help but ponder the possibilities that he might be manipulating Law in some way. No, I've tried my hardest and whatever assurance he gleans from me is in his own benefit. I've done nothing wrong.
Am I doing something wrong by being interested him?
Am I interested in him?
Bruises beneath his eyes, soft hair, shared feelings for fathers, amber eyes, silver tongue, brilliant mind, tortured past, good heart...
Maybe I am just a little interested...
Is it wrong to ask him out?
Holy shit, what am I thinking- of course it's a fucking bad idea! Being kind to him after a trauma like that and then using it to get him to date me? If that's not manipulation I don't know what is!
Great, now I'm even talking to myself. I've got to call him, at least to make sure he's alright.
Light tremors wracked his fingers as he punched in the number, his den den mushi coming to life on his beside table. He eased back onto his bedsheets, comforter drawn back to reveal the creamy yellow sheets beneath. His hair was still dripping from the shower, red strands plastered the sides of his forehead to stay out of his eyes. Water droplets dripped onto his bare torso, staining dark spots into dark blue fabric of his boxers.
Puru puru puru puru puru puru
"C'mon pick up this time, dammit!"
Puru puru puru puru-
"M'hello." Law's voice was haggard from sleep.
"Shit, I'm sorry did I wake you up?" Kidd bounced his knee in a nervous jitter, his stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies. The guilt rose in his throat like a bad drink.
"Yes, but it's fine." Law's voice faded out as he turned away from the phone, "What fucking time is it?"
There a was a pause before a faint groan patched through the receiver.
"Fucking missed dinner again... shit..."
There was a sharp rush of static as Law turned back to the snail.
"Sorry, who is this again? I'm not awake just yet."
"It's Eustass-yyyyyaaaaaa."
He dragged on the suffix with a grin.
"...Ahahaha!"
Kidd pulled back from the receiver and stared at the laughed den den mushi, little arms wobbling in glee. The butterflies in his stomach battered with explosive excitement, and his lips strained in a smile.
"You sound happy."
"Well, happy as I'll ever be."
"...Are you feeling better, at least?"
"Yes, actually. I'm doing much better. I've eaten enough to put Shachi to shame."
Kidd let out a bark of laughter, "That's good..."
"..."
The silence was uncomfortable, to say the least, and Kidd found himself desperate for words. Law beat him to the punch.
"I heard you took a little walk around our sub without my knowledge, Eustass-ya. Did you enjoy the hospitality?"
"If by hospitality you mean the scathing looks and hateful remarks behind my back? Yes, I had a wonderful time."
"Sounds fine to me, though I do apologize for my absence. I was a little under the weather, so to speak."
"I heard as much from Penguin. I still can't believe his name is fucking Penguin."
"Your first mate's name isn't the spitting image of conventional either."
"Say that to his face. He still won't fucking talk to me about his hookup with Penguin or why he wouldn't tell me."
"Time will loosen his tongue, I'm sure."
"I wouldn't be, it's been what-nearly a month and a half? He's not budging any time soon."
"At least your respecting his boundaries, right? If he doesn't want to tell you then he doesn't actually have to do so, you know."
"Ugh, you sound like him."
"So many compliments, Eustass-ya. Am I going to get flowers sometime soon? It gets ever so dreary down here."
Kidd swallowed and tried to play it cool, knowing Law would see through any lie he dished out.
"Very funny, anyway...do you know which island you're gonna hit next?"
"I'm not too sure. I'm letting Penguin and Bepo make all the decisions while I convalesce."
Shit, what happened Law...? I don't want to just ask but I'm fucking worried over here...
"Well, if we happen to hit the same island which-", Kidd peered over his shoulder at the chart tacked to the wall, "could happen in two more stops-only if you're interested, of course!" He winced at how desperate he sounded.
"...I'll see if we can't rendevouz sometime soon." Kidd could hear the smile in Law's voice, "Though my crew's gonna be strongly against it. They're not fond of you all since you were involved in my delay. Bepo and Shachi have lessened their animosity, but not much. Anyone other than them is a threat to me, as far as they're concerned."
"And Penguin?"
"Penguin wants to slit your throat."
"Ah. He conveyed as such several times during my visit."
"Then my condolences, Penguin doesn't let his prey escape."
"I'm not afraid of a flightless bird."
"You should be. Birds can be vicious."
There was too much vitriol in his voice, and Kidd was once again reminded who branded him.
"...But really, penguins just fall over and slip all the time. And then they smell like fish. I'm not gonna be scared of some tuna-smelling chicken."
"Actually, they prey on small schooling fish such as smelt, anchovies, and herring."
"Thanks, Trivia-R-Us, when's Game Night?"
"Every Tuesday at five in the mess hall."
"Shit, you actually have that? You really are a bunch of fucking nerds."
They shared a laugh, before Law began to couch loudly into the receiver, resulting in bursts of static.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine, just thirsty. I think I'm going to have to check out for the night, Eustass-ya, but I really appreciate that we had this conversation. It really made my day. Or night, rather."
Kidd nodded to the empty, running his finger along the ridge of the snail's shell.
"It's cool. I'll talk to you some other time, yeah?"
"Yes, that sounds lovely. Have a goodnight, Eustass-ya."
"Likewise, Trafalgar."
Law hung up first, and Kidd set down the receiver with a soft click.
He bent over and cradled his face in his palms, his shoulder blades moving under taut muscles.
"Shit...I've got it bad..."
*Fun fact, submarines are usually lit red just like airport control towers (at night), planetariums, and some movie theaters because it is easier for the eyes to adjust from red light to dark than from white light to darkness. This was so night vision would be 'enabled' when looking out the windows of a submarine. Of course, there are no windows on Law's submarine aside from the periscope and Law's bedroom window...Well there was no way I was going to write a story where the lighting was red all the time. That was not gonna happen. So please suspend your disbelief my friends.
** Law would totally wear bikini style underwear, not a tanga that would show his awesome booty cheeks and not thick banded hipsters or boyshorts because he can never find them with cute enough prints.
*** Not to be creepy, but this is how I've begun to sleep recently. It's probably due to being away from home and all the anxiety and fear college can bring someone.
**** Diamond Crowns are incredibly rare cigars that are hand-rolled by a famous family in the Dominican Republic. Very rare, very high-end, very expensive.