#gray-ace luffy

“What are you doing here?” Luffy asks and Law frowns, beaten in asking the question himself. The docks of some no name port-town bustle about them. Them, their crews, their ships, separated by a paltry dock and lapping waves.

“I could ask you the same thing, Straw Hat-ya.” Law responds dryly, “I’m pretty sure I told you leaving Wano if we met again I would kill you.”

“Our alliance is over, Straw Hat-ya.” Luffy recites, his impression of Law is seamless on his own face, before it shatters with a grin. White wavebreak lines, laughter ringing out from his mouth, his throat, his stomach and soul, “You sure did! Bet you feel awkward now, huh?”

It had been a month since they left Wano. Four measly weeks didn’t quite wash all the time Law spent among the Straw Hat crew from his pores. He still wakes sometimes in the night thinking he hears Luffy’s snoring. He still bends over his plate, hand raised in defense of Luffy’s quick fingers when eating. Still closes his eyes and sees the impression of Luffy over him, blocking Doflamingo’s foot from bashing Law’s face in on the back of his eyelids. To see Luffy again, so suddenly, so surprisingly, isn’t awkward in the slightest.

“Hm.” Law hums. He doesn’t smile, not really. Whatever tugs at the corner of his mouth is out of his control, but it’s enough for Luffy. “Please tell me Kidd isn’t here, too. We drew straws for a reason.”

“Haven’t seen Jaggy since Wano.” Luffy confirms, rising to his feet. The wind off the bay catches the tails of his coat, deep red with gold thread. Law’s breath catches in his chest at the sight, lungs blooming. Pressing his ribcage until it aches with emotion as Luffy’s hand comes down on that crown made of straw, “So, are you going to kill me here on the dock?” A frown mars Luffy’s face in thought as he looks out at the port with it’s little shops and little people.The little lives going about their day, unknowing that two of the world’s most dangerous men stood deciding whether they were about to raze an entire town in combat, “I dunno, these people have been really nice to us. Hate to ruin their day.”

Law rolls his eyes, adjusting his sword. Pinky finger lifting off the hilt, back down, current rolling through the rest of his grip. He puts on a expression of mock-consideration, “Well, we did just dock. Probably should let my crew stretch their legs first before I make a mess.”

“Good idea,” Luffy nods, eyes sparkling with amusement that Law mirrors with a shake of his head. With a running leap, his shadow skates over water, over Law, before he lands with barely more than a soft tap of both his feet at Law’s side, “I was getting hungry.”

“Oh?” Law says. Kikoku moves from one shoulder to the other. Making room for Luffy to stand close. Not touching, they hadn’t touched really since Dressrosa, but the heat of Luffy’s sunwarm skin feels like a palm resting on his side, “That wasn’t an invitation to eat together.”

“Who says we’re eating together?” Luffy tosses back with ease as they walk. Law’s stride shortening and his quickening so they can walk side by side. Footfalls on wood to footfalls on cobblestone. “Do you have money to pay for food?” Law asks, already suspecting the answer. Luffy’s eyes slide to him, full of humor.

“Nope!” He says brightly, bumping his shoulder against Law’s arm, “Guess you’ll have to buy me lunch, Trao.”

Law tugs at the brim of his cap, pulls it low and levels his voice, “Whatever. Where is your crew, anyway?”

“Dunno, they each went off in a different direction.”

“Didn’t go with them?”

“Nah, wanted to take a nap.” A child sprints past with loose shoelaces. Splats belly-down on the ground, his toy flinging into Luffy’s path. Luffy plucks the toy, then the child off the ground without pause. Setting them to the side. The kid looks up at Luffy, at the captain’s coat and the pure, unadulterated power that radiates from Luffy’s core. Awe before worship. Law is a witness to the new convert at Luffy’s door, “Good thing I did. Would’ve missed you if I hadn’t stuck around.”

“Lucky me.” Law deadpans and it makes Luffy laugh. They walk until a raucous pub catches Luffy’s attention. Drinkers and smokers and sailors spilling out of the doors chased by the smell of cooking meat. There is laughter inside. Singing and fighting above din of conversation. A siren song for Luffy. Law looks at it with mild disdain, but Luffy tugs him in by the elbow. They find a spot at a corner table on the second floor landing. Balcony seats to the excitement below. The barmaid is a young girl of fifteen, she rattles off the food specials to them while serving the table next to them. Law orders a pint of whatever was on tap and whatever was caught fresh that morning. Luffy orders everything else. The girl looks frazzled at the request, but takes their orders and sails off towards the kitchen.

Law crosses his legs, stretching them long under the table, invading Luffy’s territory, “No sympathy for my wallet, Straw Hat-ya?”

“Oh, so you are buying me lunch?” Luffy grins back and Law blinks, before delivering a swift kick to Luffy’s shin. Luffy dodges it, hooks his foot over the top of Law’s legs and leaves it there. Neither of them mention it. “Besides,” Luffy adds, “Not like you are paying with your own money.”

Law tilts his head, not in confirmation. After so many years on the streets, Law knew better than to self-incriminate. The knowledge of being caught is there already, he'll wait until Luffy proves it. Luffy snorts, reaching into the basket of nuts and starting to crack the shell. He's being polite today, Law has seen him eat them before, casing and all. “The guy by the door, the big one with the scar. You filched his wallet on the way in when he bumped into you."

"Impressive." Law reaches into his jacket and draws out a leather wallet, worn with age. He flips it open and starts pulling out the cash inside. Counts it into piles, enough for the meal, even including the seconds and thirds Luffy was sure to order, and also a tip for the waitress. In the change purse there is a collection of coins. Half berris and half local currency. Law plucks his favorite. Silver with the insignia of a ram, aged 130 years. Luffy watches him, cheeks puffed in chewing. Law twists his hand and in a pop the wallet is gone. A rock lands in his hand and Law deposits it on the table next to the cash and coin. “No one has ever caught me before.”

Law folds the cash and pushes it into his pocket for later.

“Yer no’ a’ gud a’ ‘ami.”

Law grimaces, “Please chew before you speak.”

Luffy swallows in one big gulp, “You’re not as good as Nami. Sabo was— wait— is better than both of you combined. I could never catch him. He tried to teach me when we were younger, but I was no good at it.”

“Easier to punch a guy, I assume.”

Luffy shrugs, picking up the coin from the table and twisting it in his hands, “More straight-forward. Pick-pocketing didn’t do much if every mark around you was just as poor as you were. Better to hit and run.”

“Sure.” Law says, before drawing Luffy’s gaze with a turn of his head, “But not as satisfying.”

The man is pulling out his wallet, still in his back pocket where he had placed it hours before entering the pub. He opens it while laughing. Law and Luffy watch as the man’s laughter dies in his throat upon finding only spare change. Not nearly enough to pay for the several pints of beer that lay empty on the table. His drinking pals groan as he sputters, the barmaid looking on without sympathy as the rest of them dig through their pockets to pay for their friend. Luffy watches the events unfold, amused, “Funny. Though, I think you’ve never landed a really good punch, have you?”

Law holds up one hand, fingers spreading the letters inked into the skin wide. With a twist of his wrist, the coin abandons Luffy’s grasp and is between his pointer and middle finger, “Spent a lot of money on these tattoos, wouldn’t want to ruin them."

"Hadn't thought of that." Luffy admits, staring at the coin. Or at Law's hand. It was hard to tell in the low light of the pub. He holds his own hand up in examination, "Guess it would be dumb for me to get tattoos on my hands. I mess them up all the time."

Law had never taken the time to look at Luffy's hands. Those hands that held him, carrying him through the streets of Dressrosa. He looks now, the excuse given so freely. Takes it greedily, takes it as far as grabbing it so he can examine it in the light. Luffy's hands are the hands of a brawler. Swollen knuckles and a comet of scars mauling the bone and skin. A ganglion cyst sits puffed right above the joint of his thumb. His nails are groomed and clean. Little islands in a sea of healed over cartilage.

“No,” Law says low, letting go of Luffy’s hand so that he doesn’t do something stupid like slot his own fingers between them. His arms come to cross over his chest, “You probably couldn’t sit still long enough for the artist to get a needle on you.”

The waitress returns with their drinks in hand. Behind her was another barmaid, older with a twisted braid falling over her shoulder. Loaded down with plates and plates of food. Luffy cheers as food is set down on the table. Immediately digging into a turkey leg still sizzling with hot oil used to fry it. Yelping when he burns his tongue but eating through the pain. Law nods his thanks to the barmaid, who blushes a pretty pink and giggles. She leaves in a flurry and Law takes a bite of his grilled trout. Looking up he catches Luffy staring after the girl, a rope of turkey skin between his teeth.

“Trao, do you like girls?”

Law coughs around his fork, reaching for his beer to swallow it down. Luffy is watching him, still chewing but the question is there on his plate. Law wipes his mouth, playing for time. Luffy waits. “Um,” Law says ineloquently, “I— why do you want to know?”

Luffy frowns, “That’s not an answer.”

“Neither is that.”

“Neither is that times infinity.”

“You—” Law gapes, rubbing his temple, “How old are you?”

“Older than that girl.” Luffy mutters and Law blinks.

“I don’t….” Law begins, feeling the words gurgle in his mouth, seeping out, “I’m not. I don’t like people, generally. I don’t really think about gender.”

Luffy tilts his head to the side, “I didn’t ask who you didn’t like. I asked who you liked.”

“I answered that, I don’t. Generally. Doesn’t matter if it’s a girl or a guy. I’m not…into people.” It comes out stilted, as it always did when he told someone about this fact. He’s never had romantic feelings, sexual feelings even less frequent. He doesn’t know if it was the white lead killing everything he ever knew that did it, or just an innate part of his being.

“Hm,” Luffy works his jaw, chewing on both his food and Law’s words in tandem, “I get that. I’m the same. I like people though, that’s a really silly way of putting it.”

“Same?” Law asks, his own food forgotten.

“The not being into people thing.” Luffy says, shrugging, “I don’t think it’s weird.”

“Your swordsman isn’t?” Law doesn’t know why he’s pressing for details but Luffy opened this box and Law is too curious to not dig into it. Luffy throws back his head and cackles, and it rattles the table, “Zoro likes Sanji and he has no idea that he does. It’s really funny to watch him mope around the ship when Sanji flirts with girls.”

“I thought… you two seem—“ Shut up. Stop talking.

“We’re close and I love him.” Luffy admits, his gaze does that thing that Law could never quite figure out. Where Luffy suddenly looks years older, “I love all my friends. I think that’s the loneliest part. That I have all these people surrounding me and it’s enough. It’s all I ever wanted, but one day they’ll find people they love more than our adventures and I won’t.”

He pried too far. This conversation shouldn’t be happening between them. They are enemies (not really). Law should leave (he won’t). Luffy brightens, a flame slow to catch on damp kindling, “I want them to be happy, so I just have to enjoy the time I have with them now.”

“I never thought I’d be alive this long.” Law looks away from the table, away from Luffy who always watches him. He crawls off the petri-dish because it makes him uncomfortable to have someone want to look through the microscope at him, “For years I was dying, and then for years I was thinking about revenge. Romance or sex, I never had the time to consider it. Still, a part of me wishes that I had what my parents had.”

“What did they have?” Luffy asks and Law tells him. Memories that had been so painful to visit now knocking eagerly at the door. He tells Luffy about his mother who was a brilliant surgeon but a terrible cook that burned every recipe and called it flavor. He talked about his father, who was kind and a bit of a goofball, always laughing and trying to drag his mother down with him even when she was angry. He talked about how it felt walking into the kitchen for a glass of water late at night and catching his parents slow dancing to a scratched record crooning from a den den mushi. How the image of it is burned into his very soul, the softness of his father’s gaze, the pure happiness of his mother curled against his chest. The way they swayed with each other. Always with each other. When they danced, when they fought, when they loved him and Lamy. With each other. Together.

Luffy listens. Really listens, eyes wide as he watches Law talk. He asks questions, strange questions that answers more about himself in the asking of them. What did your bedroom look like? Did you have a bed or did you sleep on the floor? What was it like to have your mother tuck you in at night? You had a father? Did he ever hit you? Did you love your little sister?

I was blessed, Law thinks as he answers. His room had been blue and yellow, his favorite colors. Stars on the ceiling and anatomical posters on the wall. It was a bed, a big bed with the softest pillows in the house. His mother would read to him every night even when he pretended he was too old to need a bedtime story. No, his father never hit him. His father couldn’t harm a fly, but his mother did slap him once when she found him playing in the lab with chemicals without eye protection. It had hurt her more than him but he knew even as his cheek stung that she had been scared. He had adored Lamy, had adored her the moment his mother had laid the bundle of her in his arms and those big eyes looked up at him and smiled gummy. Luffy gazes at him with awe. The kind of awe that a child has hearing a fantastical story.

I was blessed. I am blessed because I at least have memories.

He talks until his voice felt gritty, and would down his beer and talk more. The empty pints collecting with the empty plates. A city built of dishes between them. The crowd ebbs and wanes, lunch crowd to the early drinkers to the dinner rush and then to the audience of the two barmaids, sweeping the floor and putting chairs up on the table. The young girl comes up to them, sheepish and shy, “Sorry sirs, but it’s closing time.”

They both look at her in confusion, kings pulled out of silverware kingdoms to a dark pub. The silver of moonlight sneaking in through the window. Law pays the bill with his stolen money and Luffy snickers as he has to dip into his own wallet for the difference. The bill is astronomical, one too many zeros tacked at the end of the total. Luffy looks on it victorious as Law counts it out.

They stumble out onto the street, Law swaying on his feet, booze hitting him hard. He ends up leaning on Luffy, half his body folded over Luffy’s shoulders. It’s embarrassing, but Luffy smells like sea and straw and Law breathes it in. They walk like that; the wall where they didn’t touch crumbling into rubble. They are hip to hip, rib to rib. Foreheads knocking as they move through the darkened streets. They walk uphill, away from the docks and their ships and their beds. All the way to the top of the hill, where the streets give way to a grassy knoll and the sky is open above them, the moon a perfect ring of light birthing a twin in the distant sea.

They fall into soft grass, giggling. Law hasn’t giggled in years but he’s curled into Luffy laughing into his neck and hearing it echo in Luffy’s voice. It feels like sailing on a dream, that drunken haze where everything is feather-light. Floating. Law is just following the wind when Luffy turns his head towards him to say something and Law cuts him off with a kiss.

It is sweet, something stolen from teenage years that Law never had. Law has kissed people, has fucked them on the rare occasion that the urge finds him. Yet, the way Luffy’s breath hitches against his mouth is the most glorious thing. His hand slides into Luffy’s hair, pushing that hat off of his head to make room for his grip and Luffy is kissing him back. Clumsy, inexperienced and wonderful. Too many teeth, a stone arch of lips but it soon gives way to something natural. A quick learner chasing instinct. Teeth yield for tongue, Luffy’s head tilts, nose bumping the aquiline curve of Law’s. His shoulders hit the ground and Luffy is pushing him down. Weight blanketing across Law’s chest. Their hips slot and the brush of their groins has Law moaning into Luffy’s mouth. Luffy pulls back at the sound, eyes dark and breathing hard, “Oh.” Luffy whispers, “That’s what they mean.”

Law doesn’t quite comprehend what Luffy is saying; he’s lightheaded and the phantom sensation of Luffy’s lips on his has him pushing back up, seeking it. Luffy kisses him, once, twice. Softening, closed-mouth and Law feels it like a wind-down. The fire brought low to the glow of embers crackling. The sound he makes is pathetic, a keen, a whimper. Something being taken away.

“You’re drunk, Trao.” Luffy says and it sounds like an explanation, and it sounds sensible. Responsible. Silly coming from Luffy who is none of those things. Silly that Law who was all of those things hated how it sounds.

“I am.” He breathes, swallowing hard and Luffy watches the bob of his throat like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen, “You’re not.”

Luffy wasn’t. Luffy doesn’t like alcohol, so he doesn’t drink.

“Nope,” Luffy shakes his head, “I’ll know that it won’t change in the morning.”

“You think it’ll change for me?” Law asks. Luffy smiles, “Maybe. You’re the one that doesn’t like people.”

Law snorts, head falling back into the grass and feeling the blades tickle the shell of his ears. The movement sends his brain skipping in his head in a rush. He is drunk. “You just want me to admit that I don’t hate you.” Law grouses.

“You don’t.” Luffy’s tone is certain as he moves to stand, “I know that already.”

Law looks up at him, bathed in moonlight, still just as bright as in the sun, “Then what don’t you know?”

A hand falls down in front of him, palm up. Law takes it and Luffy doesn’t have any tattoos, but the look of Law’s on top of his hand doesn’t look so bad. Luffy doesn’t let him go when he pulls Law onto his feet. Law doesn’t think he has since they met. Luffy starts pulling Law towards town.