The CoraLaw Brainworms Won

Typically when someone on the crew of the Polar Tang got sick, they stay in their bunks or in one of the patient wards depending on symptom severity and how dramatic Law was feeling that day. Bepo, for example, somehow always ended up tucked into one of the large beds in the recovery ward.

Rosinante, when he woke up far too warm and with his head stuffed with mucus, was quickly imprisoned in the Captain’s Quarters to his eternal embarrassment. Law wouldn’t move him to a ward no matter what he said. Even his last desperate reason had been shot down.

“What if someone thinks it’s favoritism and hates me?” he’d said miserably, sounding even more forlorn because of how congested he was.

“Anyone who doesn’t like you gets thrown of the ship,” Law had said with a finality that left room for little argument.

So Rosinante remained in Law’s cabin, cocooned in blankets with a thermometer stuck under his tongue until such a time as Law saw fit to come check on him. (Once every 30 mins, Rosinante had timed him.) He was also wearing a set of heart-patterned pajamas

There had also been a parade of ‘get well soons’ from outside the hatch as various members of the crew stopped by as the got on or off watch. Rosinante was pretty sure Ikakku’s watch routine didn’t include her coming up to this deck. He did appreciate the thought.

Honestly, his last ditch effort might have had more weight to it if any of the crew were capable of holding a grudge against him. Bepo had called him adorable once. Bepo!

There was only so much pouting a person could do when wrapped up in blankets, but Rosinante made an effort when Law came back for his half hourly check.

“I don’t think it actually needs to be under my tongue for that long,” he said as soon as Law took the thermometer out of his mouth to check the reading.

Law said nothing, but his smirk spoke volumes.

“You have a mild fever,” said Law, finally looking down at Rosinante, looking far too pleased with himself.

Rosinante tried to be the bigger man for all of two seconds before blurting out,

“My coat would have been fine if I hadn’t had that bucket of water poured on my head.”

“Which is exactly why I wanted you to wear the wool one,” Law said back, tone infuriatingly bland.

Rosinante snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How the hell would the wool one have kept me safe from a bucket of water?”

“It would have kept your core warm which might have helped stop you from getting sick.”

Rosinante fought down the urge to stick his tongue out. It would be an admission that he couldn’t argue with Law.

Which, he couldn’t. Rosinante’s brain had been cruelly and deviously replaced with snot so he had nothing to use to form an argument in his own defense.

Rather than let him stew, Law leaned down and pressed a kiss to Rosinante’s temple.

“So I have a baseline, for how warm you feel,” Law explained.

“You’re the doctor,” Rosinante said suspiciously, cheeks pink from more than just his fever.

“And you,” said Law. “Should eat something. It was Hitode’s turn in the kitchen. He made you egg drop soup.”

Rosinante nodded. He was feeling pretty hungry.

With a snap of his fingers, Law was suddenly elsewhere, gone so quickly he might never have been there to begin with. Aside from the lingering feeling of Law’s lips against his skin, that was.

Rosinante wasn’t left alone for long. Law Shambles’d his way back into Rosinante’s sick room, bowl of soup in hand.

“Careful, Cora-san,” he said as he handed it over to Rosinante’s eager hands. “It’s hot.”

Rosinante sipped carefully at his soup, savoring the warmth and salt. The eggs were fresh from the winter island they’d just left. The same winter island where Rosinante had caught this fever. It was hard to feel to badly about he whole thing when the soup they’d gotten out of it was so good.

Law sat himself at the end of the bunk he and Rosinante usually shared, watching him eat. It reminded Rosinante of another time Law had handed him a bowl of soup. The first time he’d called him ‘Cora-san’.

It was a bittersweet memory, as most of Rosinante’s favorite memories were, but it still filled his heart with just as much warmth as the soup had.

“You know, if this is the kind of treatment I get, maybe I’ll forget my coat again next time too,” Rosinante joked, taking another sip of his soup.

Law shot him a deeply unimpressed look that knocked a laugh lose in Rosinante’s chest.

“Okay, okay,” he said, grinning widely. “Whatever you say, doctor.”

“Good,” Law said, sounding so grim it sent Rosinante into a fit of giggles. He couldn’t help himself. Law looked at him with an unimpressed face and twinkling eyes. He looked like he was biting back a smile.

“So what’s my prognosis, doc,” Rosinante said, setting aside his now-empty bowl of soup. He’d have to remember to tell Hitode how good it had been.

“Terrible,” Law said, deadpan. “You’ll have to stay in bed for weeks.”

Rosinante was about to bat his eyelashes at that, when a chill wracked him. He whined.

“You’ll probably only be sick for a couple of days,” Law said in a more serious voice. “Your Celestial Dragon constitution is certainly doing the heavy lifting. You might not have gotten more than a runny nose if you didn’t smoke so much.”

Rosinante did stick his tongue out at Law who burst into a laugh. Rosinante felt his heart soften.

“Make me soup every day then?” he asked. “That and the kisses. I think those are the only cure.”

Law snorted, but moved to press another kiss to Rosinante’s temple.

“Hitode’s the one who made you that soup,” Law said. “Your proposal could use a little work, Cora-san.”

Rosinante choked on nothing, coughing desperately while Law looked smug at him.

“Brat!” he got out in between coughs. “I’ll ask you to marry me in a normal way!”

“So you were planning on asking?”

While Law blinking innocently at him, Rosinante felt his whole face go red. It wasn’t enough to simply look away from Law, so he put his hands up over his face too. He felt like he was about to start blowing steam like a tea kettle.

“Maybe,” he said in a very strained voice.

Rosinante peeked through his fingers to see Law leaning forward towards him. His heart beat in his throat as he watched Law take his empty bowl, hesitate for just a bare few moments, then lean back out of Rosinante’s space.

“Then I’ll look forward to it,” Law said.

Before Rosinante could respond, Law snapped his fingers again and vanished. With nowhere to vent his feelings, Rosinante turned and buried his face in one of the pillows.

“Not a word!” said Law, pointing a less-than-menacing finger at his second mate. Shachi held up his hands.

__

Down in the galley, Law, ears burning, handed the empty bowl over to Shachi who noticed how flustered Law looked immediately.