Chapter Text
During his teenage years, Law has had his needs. He’s had them before, and he has them now. Adolescence is often regarded as the time in which everybody is allowed to be a little weird – a time of discovery and exploration, to pursue with other adolescents, unexperienced and clumsy all the same – but this is exactly where Law’s issue resided.
He never enjoyed other people’s company as much as he did his own; this resulted in all his previous experiences being … annoying, more than anything else. Not that he’s not experimented, but he’s always found the results to be rather sour, disappointing.
He had his wants, but no one who could satisfy them. No one in his reach, anyway. As such, at age 20, he found himself once more laying on his bed, tattooed hand slowly making its descent towards sweatpants, lazily grazing at his cock through his underwear, testing the waters to then see what would have happened. Would he have continued or would he have not?
A weak wave of pleasure crept up his stomach. Sighing, he decided he will.
Through closed eyes, gripping the outline of his cock, he begun to rub himself into hardness, giving up his sight to leave room for fantasy.
Truth be told, there was a more truthful, deeper, and better hidden reason as to why he could never find it in himself to find satisfaction in his peers, hence his mild disinterest in sex as a whole.
Scrunching his face in what resembled a scowl more than anything, among the darkness that he imposed on his vision, made its appearance a silhouette of fear-inducing stature, with broad shoulders and muscled arms, tattered with numerous scars and cuts. He pictured messy blond hair sticking to a clammy forehead. He could almost hear the shallow, husky breaths, when he imagined warm air dampening the crook of his neck.
His dick twitched in his hand once the figure’s teeth bit into his shoulder.
The boy pushed a thumb on the crown of his member, hissing, smearing the leaking precum across his length before it had the time to stain his underwear.
In his head, he faintly heard a deep, raspy voice.
“Law...”
A broken moan slipped from his previously pursed lips.
It was his benefactor’s voice, pronouncing his name like he’s heard him do countless times before, but never like this. Oh, how he ached to listen to his saviour groan his name with the same desire that burned inside of him.
Throughout the countless years spent with Cora-san, he’s of course seen him shirtless, or even sporting briefs only, many, many times and of course, having such an unfair point of comparison, did little to aid the intimacy issues he’s had all his life. Nobody had the same muscular form the ex-marine unknowingly flaunted; no one was ever going to know him in the same way he knew him; but most importantly, nobody was ever going to fill the spot Cora-san had dug into his heart, where he made himself at home. He couldn’t imagine his life without the man.
Still, he thought of other places he’d love to have the giant man fill.
After shamefully licking the palm of his hand, he swept it once more beneath his thin briefs, massaging himself with his makeshift lube, sighing into the cool touch sliding up and down his hot length.
He envisioned Corazon’s big hands, and wondered how his calluses would feel against his chest, tracing the outlines of his tattoos, settling on his nipples to torture them into sturdiness. Subconsciously, his unoccupied hand went to imitate the pictures in his head, aiding the fantasy in its purpose.
However, as he did so, a very different picture also popped up in his mind, like an unwarranted advertisement: Cora-san grinning goofily at him, in the same way he did all those years ago.
Law’s mood rapidly dropped. He disappointedly opened his eyes with a sour scowl on his face, because that’s all it is and all it will ever be – a silly as much as disgusting fantasy.
It’s obvious his sweet, gentle and pure-spirited Cora-san doesn’t see him like that: he saved him when he was barely 13 out of pure goodness of heart, he was there to watch him grow up, and even lived with him, before college necessities had them part ways, at least when it came to domestic life. Still, they often visited each other (mainly the older man dropping by at Law’s apartment), so nothing changed in their relationship.
He was Law’s closest confidant and friend, and somewhat of a guardian, too, even if not legally so. It was only natural that Cora probably saw Law as family, the most important person for him - and while that should have been flattering enough, and it was, given that it’s true for Law as well, it could never heal the growing ache in his heart. It was hypocritical, because before acknowledging these feelings of his, Law also thought of the blonde as family, and he still does: but now he couldn’t distance all of that, because ever since he discovered it, Law slowly fell into what could be called an obsession with this “new” way to see him.
He didn’t resent his relationship with the man; he loved spending time with Cora. He felt thankful to have him in his life, and in a way, he wished that everyone had a Cora-san in their lives, just to make the world a better place at least a bit; but at the same time, he didn’t, because he was jealous and greedy, and wanted to keep his treasure all for himself.
But these previously dormant gears had been put to motion against his will once he hit his sweet sixteens, and now, at twenty years of age, it was starting to get dangerously out of hand. What could be dismissed as puppy love, a mere teenage infatuation, had not faded away over time, as most of the stories of said immature passions go, for he could now positively assess that he had, most likely, fallen so deeply for the man, that no rope nor hand could reach him to save him from the currents of this tempestuous sea.
He wanted to be closer to Corazon, in every meaning of the word: the kisses on his cheeks, nose and head, the hugs, the caresses – at times, they were like papercuts on his skin. They do not bleed: sometimes they even go unnoticed, until the burn comes, later. And it always comes, eventually, and it always hurts, and people find themselves lamenting just how can a cut so insignificant in size sting in such an insistent way. It's in its nature.
He wanted to be healed from the wounds from the inside out — it was necessary; the hurt is all internal. He wanted to freely grab the stupid heart-patterned button up and pull the other down for hungry kisses, he wanted to map out his body where he wasn’t allowed to, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted.
Biting his lip, he let out a frustrated grunt, his hand’s pace quickening.
He remembers very well the strike of jealousy he felt when Cora introduced Law to all the girlfriends he’s had. They were all average in looks at best. Law felt that he was growing into a much, much finer man. Besides, why would Cora choose some random woman he didn’t know, instead of him?
His furrowed brows formed creases in his forehead as his body began to quiver.
Because Cora doesn’t love him back. Not in that way.
Law continued his umpteenth pity-jerk off while thinking of how miserable this whole situation was.
Another peculiar thing about papercuts, is that despite their lack of depth, they take their sweet time to heal. And they just keep on burning. And you just can't help but be reminded of their presence.
[ ]
As he exited the bathroom after a quick shower, Law looked at his phone. 5 unread messages, it read.
Cora-saaaa: hey Law <3
Cora-saaaa: Law?
Cora-saaaa: Lawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Cora-saaaa: Alright, you’re probably busy with something else. Probably studying. Remember to take breaks! But anyway. When you’re back from the underworld, please do tell me if you’re still up for having dinner together tonight. I should end my shift even earlier than expected, so, if you have any particular requests, I can buy groceries. I swear this time I’ll secure them in an iron grip, the bags will not slip from my hands. Or I won’t lose my wallet. Or forget it at the supermarket. Let me know by 6 pm, alright?
Law scoffed at the message. Yeah, he was busy, but what the blonde pictured in his head when he thought of Law being busy was probably as far from the truth as it was possible.
“Yes, sorry Cora-san, I was busy jacking off to the thought of you railing me like an animal.”
He felt like a huge asshole. All of this was so very unfair to the blonde.
Still, there was no way he was letting him buy groceries. They’d go together, he decided. He was about to reply, when his eyes fell on the last text.
His fingertips whitened around the phone as he gripped it with a force that was previously lacking.
Cora-saaaa: I love you!
He really shouldn’t feel this way. With a sigh, he finally typed his reply.
[ ]
When they arrived home, all the air in his body was being squeezed out of him by a death-hug from no one other than his beloved Corazon. Much to his embarrassment, the dark-haired boy let out a surprised yelp, as he wasn’t expecting it.
A red, turbulent feeling started swirling in his chest. It wasn’t love, nor arousal, no – something much deeper and worrisome in nature – it was anger, rising from the lowest pits of his consciousness. Unjustified, red fury, which, in the name of the love for Corazon, diluted into unusual annoyance at the physical contact as he slithered out of the embrace instead of returning it as he's learned to do. He decided to ignore the faint look of confusion and disappointment on the other’s face, which lasted only probably a fraction of a second anyway, lips immediately curving into a smile.
I caused that brief pain, Law noted in his head.
No particular emotions were attached to the statement; what was dragged along the quick thought that he subconsciously swept under the rug, was the following inkling that maybe the ex-marine deserved it. That saying that it was a just amount of pain to return in response to the hurt the other had caused him, was no less than an huge euphemism.
Because had Law actually wanted to return all the emotional turmoil back to the man in a way that actually complemented how he's felt all this time, he'd have to hurt him really, really bad.
Had the student acknowledged it, there was even a chance that he would have let the comment linger a bit longer.
The sound of the deep voice snapped him back to reality. He had zoned out.
“Lawww...! I’m so happy to be eating with you today! I missed you a lot, you know? We haven’t done this in a while...”
It was true. They really hadn’t had the time to eat out together in the last couple of weeks, with Law being busy with his medicine studies and Cora with his job.
“Yeah … I know.” he atoned to his previous act of rebellion by awkwardly patting the older man’s back. He suddently felt guilt begin nibbling his intestines.
In the blink of an eye, the tall man was back to his full height, ruffling the medicine student’s hair as he strolled from the door to the kitchen. “I’m going to lay the table!”
Law's reply was silence, which the blonde man supposedly took as compliance, and nothing more.
He headed to the kitchen to begin cooking. Honestly, they settled for nothing fancy, really. Just simple spaghetti. He stole a glance at the man bent over the table, tangling himself in the tablecloth. He huffed at the sight. Despite his struggling, Cora was humming an unfamiliar tune, and additionally, he seemed to be more cheerful than usual. The golden eyes narrowed. It’s not like he wasn’t glad to see Cora happy – but something dark inside of him growled that it was suspicious through bared fangs. A worry started creeping up Law’s neck. The first thing he thought was, what if he had found a girlfriend?
Because yes, to further push his hopes to the ground, to his knowledge, Rosinante had little to no interest in men. Or he only spoke of girlfriends, anyway. But sometimes, when he went to visit him at his workplace for whatever reason (usually to check if he had forgotten to bring his keys or something like that), to his displeasure, he did notice the looks he gave certain co-workers, although he’d always dismissed it as his mind playing dirty, hopeful tricks at him. It was always the tall, older, more muscular ones.
He furrowed his eyebrows to the point it almost exhausted the muscle.
Law didn’t want to believe Cora had really found someone else again. That someone beat him on the spot for the umpteenth time.
The same silent anger as before began sparking in his chest like an electric wire soon to explode. He knew that rationally, this was just a whim of his, a stupid and unjustified one at that, however his instinct told him that had to be it. He gripped the ladle so hard his knuckles turned white. Then he heard a loud noise and coming from the nearby room.
Sighing, he headed to the source of said sound, and with an unsurprised expression, there he found his dear bundle of clumsiness ass to the ground, broken glass around him and in him.
Law tried his best to keep the vein on his forehead from popping. An aneurysm surely wouldn’t have been of help to anyone, now.
“...sorry.”
“Ack! I should keep you on a leash!” he barked as he grabbed Corazon’s sweater and brought him up to his feet. As he stood up, Cora slipped again. Law felt almost sorry for him. Almost.
“Come on, get up” he sighed, leading Cora to the bathroom, where his first-aid kit was cautiously stored.
He sat Corazon on the bathroom floor, given his monstruous height, whilst the black-haired boy sat on the closed toilet lid. He took Corazon's hand in his own to examine it.
“Ah..!! I’m so sorry...!!!!” he sniffled.
The big idiot had managed to get glass shards in his hands, so they had to pause their dinner preparations to carefully remove the glass and disinfect the wounds. Thankfully the cuts weren’t too deep, but there was still quite the amount of blood oozing out of the wounds.
Law fetched the pliers, sterilizing them first. He began the tedious process of fishing the glass out of the red rivers one by one, Cora slightly flinching each time.
“You should be more careful, you big dumbass-ya.” the soon-to-be doctor muttered, eyes now focused on cleaning the wounds.
The blonde’s hand was big, bigger than his. Law took this occasion to let his own digits roam the plush yet calloused skin. He’d love to have the thick fingers entwined with his. Not – not that it didn’t happen before, but in those occasions, it was done playfully, jokingly, in a friendly manner, and not in the way Law longed for. Subconsciously, the fingers that were holding Rocinante’s hand began brushing soft lines onto it. His touch on the wound also slowed.
It was warm, very warm. If Law were his girlfriend, now he could nuzzle against his chest, and hug him, and kiss him, letting those warm hands map his own body, paint his own skin with that red.
But he wasn’t his girlfriend.
“...Law?”
Apparently, he had stopped, in a trance. Another sigh to add to that day’s collection.
“One day, you’ll hurt yourself seriously.” He bonked the blond hair with a fist.
Corazon just smiled at him sheepishly.
“Well, I think I have nothing to worry about, as long as you are here to patch me up.” he grinned.
A jolt of sour chills ran up from his heart to his mouth like a thousand needles, reducing his lips in a thin like. He was silent for a moment. His gut told him to snap back. To growl and vent his frustration to him – no, against him, really.
In this small, fleeting, insignificant moment, he almost felt like he hated him more than he loved him.
But he knew that, ultimately, that wasn’t the truth. The proof resided in the fact that, in order not to hurt his feelings, he dismissed his darkness and lightly punched his cheek, huffing.
“Yeah.”
Law didn’t utter a single other word until the wounds were bandaged and ready to go.
[]
“Mmmh, this is really good, Law!” Corazon commented while gleefully eating the spaghetti.
A phantom of a smile could be seen bending the thin lips of the future surgeon. “I’m glad you like it, but it’s just spaghetti, you’re just easy to impress.”
Corazon shrugged, still munching on his meal.
“Fair.”
The small smile was wiped out of his tan face, however, once he remembered the question knocking at the back of his head since earlier. Law was not the type to beat around the bush, yet, as he formulated his question, he kept his eyes to the dish, playing with the fork.
“Did something new happen in your life lately, Cora-san?”
The man almost choked on his spaghetti. After a couple of seconds, he could speak again.
“I- I mean, no not really? But I guess there has been an update in my life lately, so to say...” he paused.
He rose a brow. “Well? What is it?”
The light from Corazon phone hit his face as it was shoved in front of him.
“Law, do you remember Bellemere? I always thought she was so cool, you know,”
“Yes. You told me.” he interrupted.
He had to almost cross his eyes to look at the screen. He saw brownish-red hair tied in a ponytail, shaved at the sides. A picture of Bellemere. Apparently, she was in the navy with Cora. Same division. From what Rosinante had told him, she seemed like a good, strong woman. His heart dropped to his feet, but he tried not to make it obvious.
He raised an eyebrow, spending way more energy than he should have in lifting the corner of his mouth.
“...so, what about her?”
It wasn’t the first time Corazon was dating someone. What irked Law in particular, was that he usually didn’t announce it like that, which made him suspicious. Cora seemed serious about this.
Cora’s face shone even brighter as he brought the phone close to his own face, looking at the picture. “Um, we finally got the occasion to actually make more than awkward small-talk. And I’m glad! She sure has a rather...strong sense of humour. She’s taken a knack on slapping my back quite hard when she laughs. It hurts! But she...”
Law must have inadvertently started giving him the death stare, because his chatter started dying down.
"She’s also... a... caring... woman...” he finished. “Law, are you okay?”
He averted his gaze, pretending he’d zoned out. Subconsciously, he’d crossed his arms.
“Ah yeah? Why are you telling me this? Are you two dating?” this time he did not dare to lift his eyes from the half-empty dish, although he feared that his voice already gave his hurt away. Still, a sarcastic (but only sarcastic to himself) half-smile was sculpted on his face.
Everything around him had taken a slight red tint. It was an evil, selfish thought, but he couldn’t bear to actually see in the other man’s face just how happy someone else had made him. In a way, Law had always thought that it was a privilege that was only his to claim – Corazon’s smile and happiness. His blood began boiling. He really didn’t have anything against Bellemere, but in this moment, he hated her more than anything else, to the point he hoped she’d die. But that would break Corazon’s heart, so he reluctantly took it back.
The weight of his heart began pulling him down.
“Ah, sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m... happy for you, Cora-san.” except, he selfishly wasn’t. He wanted Corazon to break up with Bellemere and come crying to him. He’d comfort him in ways that the other woman just couldn’t provide, given she lacked all the years he had spent with him.
“Uh, that doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it...but are you sure everything is alright?”
In his head, he figured Rocinante was smiling at him, for how unrealistic it was. He wondered if they had done it yet. If Bellemere had the chance to get her soft hands on Cora-san before he did, if the blonde found her body attractive. If he preferred women to men.
But when he finally looked up to his beloved giant, there wasn’t a trace of a smile. Not even hurt for the snarky way he’d replied to his happy news. Just genuine worry.
Oh, Law was so, so terrible.
The young man stretched his arms to then rub at his face, keeping the hands there, like a mask.
“Yes, everything is as usual as it can be. I’m just very tired because of...medicine stuff, you know. It’s exam season. They’re working us to the bone.”
The hands were shielding him both from the possibility of the half-feigned exhaustion being busted as an excuse, and from the shame of having to look at the man who had always done such good to him, and of whose honour and good-will he was now besmirching with his impure thoughts.
“Ah! I told you you should take more breaks! If you were so tired, we could have had dinner another time... ahh, I even cut my hand, and made you take care of it...”
“I would never give up time to spend with you, Cora-san. Besides, tending your wounds is like breathing air to me, after all these years.”
An indignant gasp could be heard from the opposite side of the table.
Law’s fingers opened just enough to allow him to see Corazon’s expression.
He was shocked. He couldn’t not snort at that silly face.
Soon enough, the room was filled with laughter again – but no matter how light-hearted the air in their shared space had once more managed to become, Law’s body did not cease its fast descent towards the coldest depths of the ocean surrounding him.
That evening, as Corazon had pointed it out – because of course he had – Law didn’t finish his meal. But the boy just dismissed him, blaming drowsiness yet again.
When the tall man bid his farewell, Law slumped against the door frame.
Although the blonde did not answer his question, he knew he was right. He really had found a new girlfriend, of course.
It’s not like he thought he had a chance before, but at least he felt like he could try to indulge in the fantasy, but now?
How silly of him. Besides, Cora-san, unlike him, was a man. He was in his 30’s, while Law was nothing but a horny brat. When he got up from his crouched position on the floor, he wobbled towards his bedroom, the rational part of him suggesting to sleep it off.
Besides, the exhaustion thing was only half a lie.