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It had been a grand joke among the crew when they'd first set sail, that the quarters initially slated for the Captain's spouse had ended up being repurposed as Law's study.
"Of course, this room would end up full of books!" Shachi had cackled, even as he'd dropped another box of them onto the floor.
"Yeah, our Captain's first marriage is to surgery!" Penguin had crowed back. He'd patted the bed as he'd passed it, adding, "Poor thing's never going to get used for anything other than more storage, huh?"
"It's certainly not going to be used by either of you," Law had snapped as he strode into the room with another box in his arms. "Now get out, unless you're volunteering to act as anatomical models for my experiments."
And that had been that. For years, the Captain's room had lain second from the end of the long hall designated for crew quarters, while the room right at the end had housed only his notebooks and various experiments.
That all ended when one Donquixote Rosinante joined the crew.
Law doesn't like thinking back on most of the events that occured in Dressrosa, but he'll never regret them, not when they led to him discovering that his most precious person was alive.
"You said you were tired of staying in the infirmary," Law had said, when Cora-san had asked why Law was forcing the crew to relocate his study to a different part of the ship.
"It would be nice to have a place to sleep where there aren't people wandering in and out all day," Cora-san had offered sheepishly, "but you don't have to put yourself out! There are other empty beds in the crew quarters, aren't there? I don't mind having a roommate, and Jean-Bart mentioned that he doesn't have one yet!"
Law had pursed his lips, pretending to consider Cora-san's suggestion, then said, "I want you to have your own space here, Cora-san, but you're not fully recovered yet. If I can't keep you near the crash cart in the infirmary, quartering you here means that I can minimize emergency response time. It's the most reasonable possible compromise." Then he'd pulled his hat down over his eyes, and shyly offered, "All you'd have to do is bang on the wall, and I can be there in less than a heartbeat."
"Alright." Cora-san had let his hand come to rest on Law's shoulder and squeezed gently in understanding. "If you get tired of having me as a neighbour though, move me out whenever you want!"
Law is sure that Cora-san had meant the offer, but the thought that he might tire of the other man's presence is a ludicrous one. As such, what had started out as a potentially temporary arrangement eventually became permanent over time.
Being neighbours with Cora-san was a situation that only had benefits, in Law's eyes. It was warming to wave goodnight to Cora-san before they both retired to bed, and energizing to wake to a knock on his door and open it to Cora-san asking if he wanted to go to the mess hall together for breakfast.
If there was any potential downside to the arrangement, it's that Cora-san wasn't exactly a quiet person. He wasn't loud on purpose, but Law had soon gotten used to hearing the muffled clatters, thumps, and yelping that accompanied Cora-san's clumsy nature. Of course, soon enough, even that became a benefit in his mind.
Nowadays, Law starts getting ready for bed around when he hears Cora-san doing so. That way, he can close his eyes and drift off to the sounds of Cora-san's evening routine as his lullabye, knowing that the other man is alright. To this day, if a better sleep-aid exists, he doesn't know of it. The anxiety-relieving effect of that surety is just that potent.
Tonight, Law slides under his blankets once more and listens for the familiar sound of Cora-san hissing half a curse as he trips on his way to the bed, catching himself on the mattress with a thud.
"Silly," Law mumbles under his breath, imagining the familiar sight of Cora-san rubbing the back of his neck and crawling under his blankets, as he listens to him muttering about how he's glad no one saw that. Law keeps grinning when he hears the mattress squeak, knowing from their childhood adventures that Cora-san is the kind of person to fidget for a while before he finds a comfortable position to sleep in. At that point, Law expects to drift off as he listens to the gentle slowing of Cora-san's breathing as the both of them fall asleep.
Only, tonight, that's not what happens.
Tonight, Law hears the sheets rustle before a uniquely choked-off noise emanates through the wall.
His eyes snap open.
"Hah…"
Cora-san's voice is barely audible through the wall, but there's only so many reasons why it would be that low and breathy. Law's mind races, trying to figure out which it is. Could Cora-san be in pain? He hadn't taken any harder falls than normal recently, but he'd been favouring his right shoulder towards the end of the day. If that's the case, Law should head over with a painkiller and a glass of water… but it could also be that he's working through a troubling thought. He probably wouldn't thank Law for barging in on him if that's the case.
Law's train of thought is thoroughly derailed when he hears a new sound from the other side of the wall: a wet squish.
In his shock, Law chokes, "He's—?" before he silences himself out of fear of being heard as he crowds up against his wall to press his ear to it. His face flushes when he confirms that, yes, that's the slick sound of flesh on flesh accompanying the huff of Cora-san's breath.
Law sits back hard, mind whirring. There's only one activity that would elicit this particular symphony of sounds: Cora-san is jerking off.
Law doesn't know what to do with this information. He drops his head into his hands and scrunches his fingers through his hair, as his mood settles out of shock to embarrassment.
Masturbation is a normal activity for a healthy adult male, Law reminds himself. It's honestly a bit of a shock that he hasn't heard the man touching himself before now. It's been over a month since he'd settled in next door. A bolt of guilt sinks into Law's chest when he wonders if Cora-san had been hiding any lingering issues with his injuries—residual pain would explain the dry spell.
It's not like Law would have missed this happening earlier, not with how much of Cora-san's noises are filtering through the wall now. He might have started out relatively quiet, but his faltering breathing has only increased in volume to a loud panting, interrupted now and then by a high whine or grunt when, presumably, he does something particularly interesting to himself.
What could he be doing? Law tries to turn his brain away from the problem, but it's too late. He's already conjured the image in his mind of Cora-san with one lube-slick hand on his cock, and the other cupping his balls, or toying with his nipples, or—!
To his shame, Law realizes that he's aroused, and only barely manages to muffle his groan of horror behind his closed lips. He hadn't meant for this to happen.
"Fuck," Law hisses, clenching his fists tight enough that his nails bite into his palms.
As if in answer, half of a moan floats through the wall before it's bitten off into a whimper. The sound of Cora's hand moving on his cock cuts off, in favour of the click of a cap and a loud squirt.
What could Cora-san need more lube for? From the sound of it, he's got plenty on his dick still, so…
Law bites his lip when he thinks about the other area that Cora-san might be smearing lube onto or, rather, into his body.
The room is suddenly far too hot. He kicks the covers off, which gives him more air, but also makes him realize that he's so hard that he's leaked through his thin pyjama pants.
"Shit," Law curses under his breath. He reaches for his waistband with the intention to shuck his soiled clothes and change… but somehow, when his erection bobs free of his pants, he ends up taking hold of it instead.
Thinking about it, it's been a while since the last time Law cleaned out his own pipes. He'd get hard hearing anyone making sex noises right now, even if it weren't Cora-san. Working himself to ejaculation is simply the most efficient tactic for him to take to deal with his current problem, he decides, as he licks his fingers and palm, getting them wet. It's not wrong to touch himself in the privacy of his own room, no matter what sounds are coming from next door.
Now that he's chosen a course of action, Law puts all of his focus into the effort. He barely notices the noises coming from next door as he jerks himself off fast and rough. Now's not the time for gentleness or edging; this is all about efficiency. Law wants to get off and pass out as soon as he can. Savouring the sound of Cora-san pulling himself off while he fucks himself on his fingers, or a dildo, or whatever he's got secretted away in his room for that kind of play, is not on the agenda. Law's going to focus on nothing but the sensation of his hand on his cock, on the pleasure building in his stomach, welling higher and higher towards the tipping point, and he's not going to think about what Cora-san is doing to make those filthy, throaty sounds.
To his credit, Law almost manages it. He gets close, so close that his toes are curling and his stomach is clenched, just about to tip over the edge—
But then Cora lets out the kind of broken, hitching moan that Law's only ever heard when he's passed by dark alleys in red light districts. Spontaneously, he's ambushed by the knowledge that he now knows what Cora-san sounds like when he comes. His mind conjures an image of Cora-san striping his stomach with white, one hand fisted tight around his cock, and the other jamming two fingers as deep as they can go into his puffy hole. Or no, Law's libido says, maybe instead of Cora's fingers, it should be Law's stretching him out. Maybe he'd have three fingers inside of him, plunging deep? Or maybe that wouldn't be enough… maybe his cock? Yes, that's it. It should be Law's cock driving into Cora-san and fucking him so hard and fast that he comes all over himself, should be Law that's pulling those noises out of Cora-san's throat, should be—!
Law's vision whites out as he comes harder than he's ever come in his life.
And then it's done.
As Law lies in his bed in the dark, hand wiped clean on the sheets and cock going soft against his thigh, clarity cuts through him like a winter island's wind through a gauze bandage.
He's loved Cora-san ever since he'd learned what the word meant. That's no secret, but he'd thought his feelings were pure and respectful. Maybe they were when Cora-san was dead, and Law was simply clinging to his memory. Now, though, Cora-san is a living, breathing man. He's a man who's constantly tripping, and setting himself on fire, and smiling wide, and staying at Law's side through thick and thin, and saying Law's name with such tenderness that Law's heart squeezes in his chest, and—Law's an idiot, isn't he?
"Fuck." Law raises one hand to scrub angrily at his eyes as they threaten to tear up. He has to admit it: he loves Cora-san, but he's in love with him too. He's been in love with him for a long time now. "The fuck am I going to do?"
The night offers him no answers, only the muted rustle of sheets from the other side of the wall.
As Law lies in the dark, Cora-san yawns loudly, then starts shuffling around his room. He's probably cleaning up. Some activities are messier than others, Law acknowledges drowsily before he manages to drag his mind away from the thought of Cora-san wiping lube off his ass and thighs. It takes some effort, and Law only really succeeds because he hears a soft melody start to resonate through the wall—Cora-san is humming to himself.
It's an unfamiliar song, minor and chromatic in unexpected ways, but the fact that it's Cora-san singing it makes it more comforting than any other tune Law's heard. It takes some focus, but eventually, with the help of Cora-san's soft noises, Law manages to put himself to sleep.
For all that Law would have liked to say that that night was an isolated moment of weakness, jerking off in tandem with Cora-san becomes a regular activity. It's Law's fault for tying his bedtime rituals around Cora-san's routine—he can't manage to sleep until Cora-san does, so if Cora-san decides to jerk off before bed, Law's helpless to do anything but wait for him to be done. At that point, he inevitably figures that if he's going to be awake and horny anyway, he may as well join in, right?
As Law shoves his pants down and slicks his hand up with lube, there's a part of him that recognizes that this is a paper-thin justification for his actions, but his self-control isn't strong enough to stop himself.
In all other aspects of his life, Law remains steadfastly professional, despite the fact that his newly-recognized crush makes his chest squeeze on an intermittent spontaneous basis. Letting Cora-san know about his feelings would be a massive conflict of interest. However long ago it had happened, the man had intended to give his life for Law's and, by all accounts, had almost succeeded. From where Law's standing, he has to recognize that Cora-san hasn't a single drop of selfishness or self-preservation in his body when it comes to making Law happy. Acknowledging that makes Law's face hot while his stomach flutters, but it also makes the coldly rational part of his brain say: you can't trust him not to make another sacrifice when you ask him for something like this. So Law doesn't ask.
But for all that Law acts professionally, his newly recognized interest throws his thoughts in directions that are anything but that. He's started cataloguing the particulars of Cora-san's interactions with him at a level of detail he had previously only dedicated to surgical minutiae; and not for any kind of innocent reason. No, he's using them as fodder for his own selfish purposes.
The memory of Cora-san making a sad noise and dropping a kiss onto Law's temple after he'd taken a particularly hard hit in a skirmish, murmuring, There, that'll make it feel better, right? should be a pure one, for instance. As Law wraps his hand around his hardening shaft though, his filthy mind can't stop pondering what it would feel like to have those lips on his jaw, his throat. More than that, he can't stop himself from wondering what it would be like to have Cora-san's teeth scraping across his pulse. His breath speeds up as he imagines blunt pressure drawing out only the sweetest sting, the kind that would make Law's knees give way and turn his bones liquid. He'd moan at the taste of Law's skin, exactly the same way that Cora-san is moaning on the other side of the wall.
Pleased by the synchronization between his dreams and reality, Law expands his fantasies, bringing his other hand up to pluck at his nipples while he lusts for bigger hands to toy with them, twisting and flicking with the same dexterity Cora-san uses to tie bowlines or spark his lighter.
Speaking of his lighter, Law's passionate arguments about minimizing Cora-san's smoking habit have reached new heights recently. It's partially because of the negative health effects, but also increasingly because Law doesn't think that he'll survive continued exposure to the way that Cora-san looks when he smokes. Just thinking about his long fingers tapping out a cigarette from the pack, the way his neck arches while he leaning on the deck rail, and how his mouth forms a gentle "o" as he exhales smoke into the wind—all of it drives Law to madness.
As Law starts to stroke himself properly, his mind's eye flits back to the afternoon. He recalls how Cora-san had given his shoulder a friendly squeeze as they passed each other in the hall. It's the work of an instant to morph that casual affection into something decidedly less innocent. Law imagines that firm grip on his waist instead, or maybe his hips, tugging him closer. It's not hard. He knows how it feels, in a sense. He'd spent the better part of six months as a child being carried around by the man, squirming and yelling all the while.
Breathlessly, Law thinks about how, if he wiggled a bit too much now, those strong hands might squeeze even harder than they had before. Maybe, in his hunger for Law, Cora-san might put down enough pressure to leave smudged, blue-black fingerprints behind.
One thought leads to another, and Law has to squeeze his cock to keep himself from coming too fast as he thinks about the marks Cora-san could leave on him as physical proof of his love: bruises on his hips, handprints on his ass, bite marks up and down his thighs. He'd only mark places where it would be covered by his pants, because even crazy with desire, Cora-san would be shy, wouldn't he? Law would have to work to trick him into sucking a bruise just high enough to ride over the waistband of his jeans. A hiss of a laugh slips past his gritted teeth as he imagines how Cora-san would blush every time Law flipped his coat aside and flashed it at him in the hall. It turns into a sigh as Law thinks about how he'd also spend all day half-hard from sneakily pressing his thumb into that tender spot to feel it throb.
As Law works himself closer and closer to his peak, Cora-san's voice rings in his ears, muffled though it is by the wall. His groans and sighs sync up with those of the Cora-san in Law's head, and Law's hand moves accordingly, speeding up as Cora-san's cries become longer and louder, then slowing down when they stutter. Time and practice have honed Law's understanding of Cora-san's routine to the point where he knows when to draw out his pleasure, holding himself on the edge until he hears the shattered sound that signals Cora-san's climax. A twist of the wrist is all it takes to bring Law off right at the same time, muffling his relieved grunt under Cora-san's much louder wail.
Here's the best part of this not-quite-nightly ritual: matching his breathing up with Cora-san's as his panting slows into his afterglow. It fills Law with tingling warmth to feel connected to him on such a basic level. Tonight, he even forgets himself and reaches out—only to wince when his fingers glance off of the cold steel of the Tang's walls.
The fantasy abruptly falls apart.
It's like having lost a tooth. Something essential has been ripped out of Law's body and left a yawning hole behind. He hasn't figured out how to fill it back in; doesn't even know if it's possible. He should just leave it alone, however ragged and strange the gap will be until it heals over, but he can't stop himself from running his tongue along the raw edges of the unsettling emptiness. He can't resist it, even though he knows all it will bring him is aching.
His imagination turns to thoughts of what might happen if Cora-san were on this side of the wall—how gentle fingers might thread through Law's hair, just like they do when Law's sprawled on the couch in the lounge, and Cora-san thinks he's asleep. Law might hear a fond sigh, might feel the mattress creak as another person crawls into bed beside him to hold him close and keep him warm. He might even be allowed to curl closer and wrap an arm around Cora-san in return.
As he listens to Cora-san hum his strange, now familiar lullaby, Law wonders what it would be like to hear him sing it to him, rather than just near hin. He turns his head and muffles his own hiccupping song in his pillow.
Law stays stuck in yearning's awful grip for weeks that spread into months. Eventually, he comes to terms with the fact that this hopeless love might have hold of him forever, and that he has no choice but to take the secret of it to his grave.
While the others on the crew have given signs that they're starting to suspect that something is wrong with his disposition, no one has asked any questions to his face. As long as they keep minding their own business, he's sure of his ability to proceed as planned.
Unfortunately, the one rule of Law's life is that his best laid plans inevitably go awry.
Food preparation is solely Jean-Bart's domain, but anyone can do the dishes, so they all share that chore equally. As luck would have it, eventually Law ends up taking his turn on kitchen duty with Cora-san.
It's not a bad experience. The conversation has run down into a friendly silence as the two of them finish up the last few dishes in the sink. Law's elbow-deep in warm, soapy water, while Cora-san has a towel over his shoulder, carefully drying the tin mugs and plates before he tucks them away into their cabinet homes. Sleepy from a long day of work, Law is content to let his mind drift as he shares this cozy moment of domesticity with his favourite person. It's not even a conscious decision when he starts humming under his breath.
"Huh…"
When Cora-san lifts his head, Law tilts his head in acknowledgement, unaware of the danger he's in.
"Hey Law, what song is that?"
That's when Law recognizes, too late, that he'd let his guard down. He'd been humming The Song, the one that Cora-san sings to himself before he goes to sleep.
"Uh." He can feel his shoulders tighten defensively, and forces them to relax. Acting guilty is a surefire way to get caught out in the lie he's planning to tell. "Dunno. Heard it around somewhere, I guess."
"Yeah?" Cora-san reaches over Law to grab the last wet plate from the drying rack. As he wipes it with his towel, he avoids Law's eyes. "Because that's a tune that I haven't heard in a long time."
"Really?" Law asks, focussing hard on keeping his voice even, and knowing that he hasn't been successful.
"Yeah." Cora-san leans his hip against the kitchen counter, then flips the dish over to get the other side. "Not since my mother sang it to me as a kid in Mariejois."
Law winces, then regrets it. "Ah. It's a Celestial Dragon thing?"
"That's what she told me. The Celestials are possessive of their culture, so they wouldn't let even something like that leave the borders of Mariejois. It's why I only sing it when I'm alone in my room, in case it might get me in trouble somehow," Cora-san says. His face is starting to flush pink, and his eyes are glued to the dish in his hands, even though it's thoroughly dry now. "So…"
"So." Law pulls the plug to drain the sink, using the task as an excuse to look away from Cora-san. There's a small, but significant possibility, he thinks, that if he stays casual, Cora-san won't ask further questions.
After a long silence, Cora-san finally tucks his last dish onto the shelf, then closes the cabinet door with a click of finality. "You can hear me through the wall, can't you?"
Fuck.
Law turns around to face Cora-san, shoulders up around his ears and face blazing. "Yeah, um. Sorry, I meant to tell you, but—"
"No, I'm sorry! Hell, I must keep you up every night with all my caterwaulling!" Cora-san groans as he holds his head in his hands.
"It's okay," Law says weakly. "You're not that loud."
"Loud enough if you can hear me singing," Cora mutters. Suddenly his head jerks up, and he makes a noise that sounds like his soul is wheezing out of his body. "You… you can hear me singing."
"Yes?" Law offers, weakly.
"Then? Y-you…" Cora-san stammers, face pale. "You can hear—Can you hear when I…?!"
Law can't decide whether he should say yes or no, but his expression must answer for him. Cora-san winces and staggers backwards.
"Oh no." He only manages to avoid a fall by catching his weight heavily on the counter with one hand. The other is glued to his blushing face as he says, "Oh hell, Law, I can't believe you had to listen to me doing… that."
"It's fine!" Law blurts, feeling crazed. "It's a normal activity for a healthy adult—!"
"It's not! It's not fine!" Cora-san follows his shouting by dragging his hand down his face until it's covering his mouth. He shuts his eyes tight while he takes a deep breath once, twice, thrice. Finally, he uncovers his mouth to say, "I'm so fucking sorry, Law. I'll start making sure I CALM myself when I go to bed for the night, I promise—!"
"Don't!" Cora-san's eyes go wide when Law interrupts him, but Law doesn't stop—can't stop. "I like hearing you at night. I like hearing you knock the furniture around and trip over your dirty laundry and mutter to yourself when you can't find a matching pair of socks, and I also like… I like hearing you… doing that too." Law slows as he realizes what he's confessing, but he forces himself to keep speaking. "Every noise you make is good, because it tells me that you're just on the other side of the wall, safe and breathing and- and alive!" Law's voice cracks on that word as he remembers all of the nights he'd spent thinking of Cora-san lying in the snow, lost to him forever. He needs to swallow hard before he can say, "Cora-san, please don't take that away from me."
"Law." Cora-san's voice sounds raw as he reaches out to cup Law's face with one hand. "It means that much to you?"
It's not until he wipes at Law's cheek with his thumb that Law realizes that he's started to cry. When Law connects the dots, he flinches internally. "It does." Law rubs at his other cheek with his sleeve, careful not to jostle Cora-san's hand, for fear that he'll take it back. This is why he avoids remembering the years he spent thinking Cora-san was dead. He's got no defense against even the echo of the despair that had haunted his every waking hour during those dark days.
"Alright." Cora-san smiles wetly and tries out a chuckle as he jokes, "But I'll still CALM myself now and then, if I'm doing something, uh. Messy?"
Law sniffles as he mulls over his choices. He should say 'Okay'. Maybe not being able to hear Cora-san's private moments would help kill the longing that Law feels. Maybe it won't. Either way, lying will help keep Law's real feelings hidden, and that's the safest choice.
But then, Cora-san says, "You probably thought it was gross, listening to an old man like me doing that, huh?" He sounds so quietly resigned about how unappealing he must be that Law realizes that he's reached the end of his rope. He can live with never telling Cora-san about his feelings, but he can't let him believe that Law doesn't want him.
Law grabs the hand on his cheek and pulls it down to hold it in both of his. "I didn't think that," he says with his heart in his throat. It's thrumming with fear and anxiety as he says, "Cora-san, I didn't lie. I like every sound I hear you make. Even, uh. Even those noises, I…." He bites his lip, fighting the urge to look away, fighting for Cora-san to hear what he's saying. "I don't dislike listening to them at all. The opposite, actually."
"You… like listening to me jerk off?" Cora-san asks, sounding strangled and surprised, but also maybe, just maybe, happy as well. He's happy that Law likes listening to him.
Hope lights up in Law's chest, and he steps closer, right into Cora-san's personal space. "Yeah," he says, squeezing Cora-san's hand. "I do. I like it a lot."
With so little distance between them, Law can see how Cora-san's pupils blow wide, how his gaze flickers to Law's mouth for a half a moment before moving back up to Law's eyes.
"Oh," Cora-san says.
Slowly—slower than Law has ever seen him move—Cora-san lifts his free hand and brings it to rest on Law's hip. Even through the fabric of his coat, Law can feel the heat of him. Several of his bedtime fantasies flash through his mind's eye in the span of a heartbeat, making him shiver.
"Could you… I mean, would you tell me…" Cora-san swallows hard, then says something that Law's never even imagined that he'd ever say. "How much is a lot?"
He barely manages to finish the question before Law is launching himself up onto his tiptoes and capturing Cora-san's mouth with his own. He grins when he feels Cora-san's surprised gasp turn into a pleased sigh, then responds with a moan of his own when Cora-san drops both of his hands to Law's hips to tug him flush with his chest and kiss him back.
"Wow," Cora-san pants when they finally break apart for air. "That much? Really?"
"And more," Law says, totally unable and unwilling to hide his glee. "Come back to my room so I can show you?"
"Let's go to mine instead," Cora-san says with a rueful laugh. "I hear the walls on this sub are pretty thin, but my neighbour's pretty easygoing."
Law hides his face in Cora-san's chest for a moment because he's snickering so hard, then for another, just because he can. After he's ready to admit that he's gotten his bearings back, he lifts his head and says, "Yeah, I've heard the same thing."