Archive of Our Own ^beta

day 3: fog | “oh, I love how dramatic this is.”

- - - permission - - -

“Torao, can I hug you?” Ace asks him one awkward morning, standing in the middle of the corridor in Law’s apartment. He charmingly smiles and looks at him from under her eyelashes. 

In the darkness of his eyes, Trafalgar sees his own doom; devils who want to either devour him or crucify him.

However, Law does not look away or take a step back.

Ace will destroy him one day [he already did] – Trafalgar accepted it a long time ago.

“Why?” Law frowns; his mouth is dry. No internal rejection, a big part of him wants to be in Ace's arms again. Things can be good there. Law already checked. At night. Naked. And it was the best sex of his life. “Is this your post-sex ritual?”

Surprisingly, they weren't even drunk. They just did what they did. 

“Actually, yes, but I was too shy to ask you about it in bed,” Portgas D. laughs, ruffling the hair on the back of his head with his palm.

Law raises an eyebrow. What kind of nonsense is this? Ace doesn't seem like a shy person. He never was. A cheeky, noisy boy who knows how to settle down under the skin and rib cage. Who moans so loudly that it blocks your ears. Who leaves bloody scratches on your shoulder blades. Who…

Law stops his thoughts – too spicy, and images are fresh.

Perhaps there is a hint in Ace's words, and it is not even small. Maybe he wants to check if they are okay? Because… Well, everything could become awkward. Sex can ruin a friendship. And even if Law doesn't say it out loud, Portgas D. is not the worst among his acquaintances; he is the one who annoys the surgeon the least. He is also attractive, caring, and funny. It’s safe next to him, sometimes even too much. He almost never touches Trafalgar against his will. 

Law lacks this luxury in his present – damn Luffy and his entourage.

So now they really have a problem. Law has no idea how to continue communicating with Ace. Maybe they should talk? Or–?

Fuck! 

It’s probably better to commit to small changes at first.

The sequence of actions is clearly broken here.

“Okay, you can hug, if it matters to you,” says Law dryly, looking away. Disheveled Ace with a happy smile on his slightly swollen lips is not for the weak-hearted. Law's heart seemed to weaken overnight. Or how else can he explain this spasm of the muscular organ?

Portgas D. bites his lower lip and reduces the distance between them in a split second. He wraps his arms around Law’s body and hides his freckled face in Trafalgar’s shoulder. Inhales. Loudly, as if he is trying to swallow Law like a trail of angel dust.

The surgeon’s whole body is tense like a stone. But not for long. Even if he feels awkward, on the other hand, he doesn't feel disgusted. Ace’s body is nice, warm, and strong. He knows how to use it: from work moments to bed ones. He also smells good. Better than others to him. It's relaxing. 

He even responds languidly to Ace's hugs. Ace laughs in his ear.

And no, it's definitely not about sympathy. He is not [he is] in love with him. Ace is just a nice person who deserves hugs.

It's just a bare fact.

As bare as Ace was under [and on] him tonight–

Fuck…

- - - facts - - -

“I’m gonna hug you now, Torao. Be aware. You have half a second to escape,” the impudent man becomes worse every day. He doesn't ask permission anymore. He just does whatever he wants. He presses his bare chest against  Law's back, pinning him under himself, kisses a shoulder, and hides his face with stardust on his cheeks between Law’s shoulder blades. Laughs wetly into the skin: “It’s too late.”

Law grumbles, face down into the pillow. He is too tired to argue or fight for freedom. He's not even sure if he needs it. So he silently accepts his fate and doesn't even get comfortable so that their legs fit together like a puzzle. 

“It's sticky,” for the sake of decency, Law still complains. “You're sticky. In every sense of this word.”

Law began to stick to him more often. For some reason.

Well, for a very understandable reason – Ace is a big, juicy fruit filled with sin. And Law is a weak man who can't say no to certain people.

To one certain person. 

“Of course it is, we haven't been in the shower yet.” Ace's breath on Law’s back makes his skin prickly with goosebumps. His kiss on the shoulder makes Trafalgar’s toes curl. “Give me a few minutes, please. I feel very good now.”

Law bites his lip, tensing his body slightly. And after a moment, he relaxes again. Ace's damn honesty makes him feel good and bad at the same time. He won't admit it, but he doesn't mind being hugged by him. It's surprisingly pleasant. And a little painful, because Law is hot and sweaty. This is disgusting. This is… 

This is a complete lie.

“Will you stay overnight?” Trafalgar crumples the damp sheet with his fingers. He doesn't expect any specific answer. Not at all. He just needs to plan his... night?

“If you want me to stay,” Ace is cunning. He always tries to make Law speak to get what he wants. The surgeon tries not to follow his tastes.

Ha-ha. 

“Do whatever you want,” Law grumbles, and without noticing it, he places his palm on top of Ace's and squeezes his fingers.

“Okay, you just signed your own death warrant. I have a list of what I want to do. I'll leave you intrigued. No spoilers. But there is a condition: you can’t complain anymore,” Ace rubs his face against Law’s back and loudly inhales his smell. Ace does this often.

Something with wings is dying inside Trafalgar. 

“It’s impossible,” the surgeon finds the strength to argue. But underneath, there is emptiness. He can't say no to Ace – his horrific discovery.

“I know, you like to complain. But be courageous. You just gave me permission to do whatever I want. You can't take back your words,” Law hears a smile in Ace’s voice. Maybe that's why his words don't scare him. Or maybe Trafalgar developed trust in Ace, even if they are stuck in an unknown status. Law is still just a coward to ask directly. “Keep in mind, I have memorized them and will use them without shame.”

“Of course you will, you don't have it,” comments Law, and doesn't enjoy the way Ace strokes his fingers with his own. He sighs to hide his emotions: “It seems I said something stupid and dangerous.”

“Yes, you did,” Ace is clearly very pleased with himself. “And now I need to make sure that you will enjoy every moment of your mistake. And most likely you will become addicted.”

“To what?” Law frowns; he is slightly confused by Ace's words.

“To me and my affection,” explains Ace and laughs quietly. As if his indirect admission was just a joke.

“You wish,” he speaks out loud, hearing his heartbeat in his head.

He's lying again.

Ace is already under his skin, in his bones and mind. 

But Law will never tell him about it.

- - - seduction - - -

“Portgas, what do you want from me?” Law doesn’t look at him; his eyes are focused on the book. 

He has no idea what’s going on between the black lines. 

“Nothing. I just want to look at you all day. You are cute,” Ace is unbearable. He laughs quietly, lying in Law's bed [not completely naked, okay?] on his stomach, and stares at the surgeon with dark eyes. This water is not still; demons are dancing there – Law senses it with his spine. 

It feels like he's lying on needles.

“It’s annoying,” remarks Law and tries to understand the meaning of the word he has been reading for ten minutes. He seeks salvation in ignoring. “Still, I know you're up to something.”

Law mentally buried his day off when Ace showed up at his apartment. He had no plans and no intention of changing the situation. Ace didn't mind. He said he had no plans either. And he will be happy to be in bed all day, too. For some reason, in Law's bed. Trafalgar didn't understand the point of the idea; his room doesn’t smell like sex. Ace didn’t even hint.

Now he doesn’t either. The surgeon has already learned his habits. No, Ace has something else on his mind. And Law obviously is not interested. 

His fingers intemperately crumple the pages of the book.

“Okay, you caught me!” Ace's modesty did not last long. He laughs and moves closer to Law, touches the spot between the shoulder and chest with his fingertips, and slightly strokes. He speaks, lowering his voice: “I wanted to offer you a cuddle and a nap. Sweet, warm nap in my arms. I know, you had a tough week. Mine was the same. And I mi– It’s the best activity for tired people to replenish energy. I promise, you would love it.”

Law places the open book on his stomach and turns his head towards Ace. Their foreheads almost touch. Law feels his sweetish warmth on his face. 

Portgas D. stares at Trafalgar's face with a little smile on his lips. In his eyes, Law does not see sexual temptation, but tenderness? Completely unexplainable. But it makes Ace look vulnerable.

The surgeon’s heart crumples like a sheet of parchment.

A new weakness, damn it. 

Ace destroys him from the inside every minute of his existence. 

“You can take a nap, I'm not going anywhere,” for some reason, Law himself lowers his voice. He doesn't understand why Ace can't just take a nap on his own. Law doesn't kick him out of his bed. Besides: “I can't take a nap. I don't fall asleep during the daylight.”

Well, he doesn't have good sleep at night either.

“Because you did it wrong before,” Ace is self-confident. As always. He brazenly closes Law's book and puts it aside. And then he looks into Law's eyes again. This time, there is a touch of cunning in the tenderness. “Let's do an experiment. I know you love it when a point of view is scientifically proven. I can do it. Just give me a chance.”

Trafalgar raises an eyebrow silently. He doesn't want to follow Ace’s lead. He already has a lot of power. But still, Law wants to see what Ace will do against the surgeon’s nature. His inevitable failure seems like sweet revenge for the moral torments that he commits against Trafalgar. 

It's tempting.

“Surprise me,” says Law and smirks slightly. 

Ace, looking at his lips, licks his own, smiles, and then turns over onto his back. He looks at Law from under his eyelashes, squinting his eyes, and pats his bare [of course, Ace despises T-shirts when they are at home] chest with his palm. Invites, quietly murmuring: “C'mere.”

Law stares at his supple torso with an unreadable gaze and feels that his mouth is getting wet. Ace has a wonderful chest. It is soft and hard at the same time, covered with hair. Not yeti, but it has a masculine charm. And these nipples… They always feel hot and moist. Law enjoys giving Ace’s upper body additional attention when they are busy with each other. God, now he wants to touch it with his face. And it seems, Portgas D. got wind of it.

Perceptive manipulator. 

Trafalgar hates him sometimes.

It's a lie.

Law gives himself a few moments for thinking and, in the end, falls for provocation. He moves closer to Portgas D. and, after a small hesitation, he lays his head on Ace’s left chest. He is tense, as if he were forced to do it. Portgas D. laughs, hugs the surgeon by the shoulder, and pulls him closer. He “covers” his waist with Law’s arm and hides his nose in the dark, short hair. Inhales. His chest vibrates under Law’s cheek. And his heart… 

Law should advise him to see a doctor.

“So, what now?” Trafalgar wants to see magic. Or Ace’s failure. 

To distract himself from the fact that under his ribcage, everything is collapsing in the same way.

“Nothing,” Ace rubs his face against the top of Law's head. Trafalgar’s fingers tremble a little. “Just close your eyes, relax, and think about something good. Not about your work or disturbing things. Think about the nice little things, your hobbies: the books you read, your comic collection, or coins. Turn off reality. And everything will come by itself.”

Law frowns, but obeys. He closes golden eyes and takes up a more comfortable position, pressing himself closer into Ace's side.

The warmth of his body softens Law's muscles, relaxes. The natural scent of his body, with hints of citrus perfume that stuck to the chest hair, makes the surgeon’s head spin. Surprisingly, he doesn't even get seasick. The arm that wraps around him gives a feeling of being safe in the cramped space. Faster than normal heartbeat under his ear distracts; it is reflected in the rhythm of his own heart.

Maybe Law should see a doctor, too.

The surgeon expected these cuddles to be hot, uncomfortable, tight, but– God, it feels so good. Ace’s perfect body senses like a puzzle, the right element of being. It warms Law, protects against an imaginary threat, giving him an impossible feeling of comfort. Trafalgar yawns. His head feels heavy, and his thoughts are getting jumbled in a matter of minutes. He's intoxicated, overwhelmed by Ace’s tenderness and warmth. 

Law is too lazy to complain or make unnecessary movements. He doesn't even think; he's focused on the sensations; unusually good and calming. God, it seems Law is a goner. Or just Ace actually is a master of forbidden magic. He discovers all Trafalgar's weaknesses. And uses them against him without any shame or doubts.

Yes, yes, it's all that damn Ace and his mind-blowing body. Law has nothing to do with it.

And it is definitely not him who dozes off for a couple of hours, drooling on Ace’s hairy chest. No. Nope. Nuh-uh.

It's all someone's bad imagination.

And the best nap in his life.

- - - self-evident - - -

Silence is luxury.

Especially when you manage to escape from Luffy, his friends, and their friendly love.

Law takes a puff, standing on the balcony of Ace’s [Luffy and Sabo also live there] apartment, where the local party is underway, and looks at the night lights. He no longer asks himself why he is present at events like this, even if he hates them. No right to vote or argue. Never again since he met Luffy [meeting Ace is also his fault] and the people around him. And it doesn't even bother him anymore; he made peace with himself and his fate, and surrendered to failure.

He is grateful for five minutes of peace.

It’s a lie. They just won't let him go home early. And jumping down from the balcony is not an option. Law still has a little love for life inside his heart. 

The surgeon poisons himself with smoke and tenses his shoulders when the door to the balcony opens. Loud sounds of music and other people's laughter hit his ears and then fade away. The intruder closes the door and then makes a few steps towards Trafalgar. 

Law sighs; his blissful solitude dies. He has no strength to turn around and politely ask this person to fuck off. Instead, he pulls the cigarette to his mouth, clamps the filter between his lips and– 

He chokes on smoke when someone's strong arms wrap him from behind around the waist.

Trafalgar’s first reflex is to break free and destroy an insolent fellow with his gaze. Maybe even to say something [un]kind. But this impulse quickly disappears – the body recognizes these arms and this warmth. The smell of familiar perfume [Law is soaked in it to the bone] even breaks through the smoke of cigarettes. 

Law’s ribcage becomes small to his heart. His body instantly relaxes.

He exhales smoke into the night air and leans back against the strong chest. He makes himself comfortable, putting his free hand on a forearm covered with hairs and freckles.

“You won't even try to escape?” there is a hint of mockery in Ace's voice. His arms squeeze Trafalgar's body tighter. He presses his cheek against the surgeon’s shoulder.

“Is this your sexual fantasy?” bites back Law with a calm expression on his face. “I’m not sorry, I’m not into it.”

Ace’s short but soft laugh makes Law's insides warm. Trafalgar even allows himself to smile slightly.

“No, I'm just testing my theory,” explains Portgas D.; he is not laughing anymore, but smiles. Law learned his habits a little. “Luffy told me you were rude to him when he hugged you. He complained that you hissed at him, broke free, and ran away somewhere. It hurt his tender feelings. But I can't promise he won't do it again – he doesn't hold a grudge. I tried to explain to him that you are not a fan of tactility, but I doubt that he will take it seriously. Somewhat, you are contradicting yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Law frowns, turning his head towards Ace. Hot palm gets under his shirt and strokes his stomach. Gently, casually. As part of the routine.

Volcanic rivers flow under Law's skin..

Okay, to be honest, Trafalgar's question is rhetorical. Ace is not very mysterious. He never seriously tries to confuse Law. He clowns around, makes broad hints, and leaves unsaid a few things. Maybe he's afraid of something himself. Maybe he is afraid to scare Law [he is already scared as hell]. Who knows. But Law clearly understands the last phrase.

He is truly contradictory. He doesn't like people in his personal bubble, especially when he doesn't allow them to be there. Everything is determined by the emotional closeness to this person, but it also has limits. There is no trauma behind it or phobias. A minimum of physical contact is just a personal preference. That’s it. Nothing special.

But some rules have exceptions.

Law’s exception is behind him. Fits like a perfect cog in a mechanism. And it's scary, because it is inexplicable.

However, once Lami tried [to explain] somehow, theorizing without any context from Law:

“I always thought Ace had comfortable hugs. He hugs tightly, but not painfully. Gently, but not sluggish. He is warm, he smells good, and he seems reliable. I feel calm and safe with him. And he is pretty”

“You have a crush on him?” for some reason, these words pricked his tongue like needles.

“Nuh,” shrugged off Lami and smiled slyly. “I had, in the past, but I'm out of his league. Very close, but still–”

Law still doesn't understand her words about the league. Almost. Lami has no dick – this is a working reason. But that's not what we're talking about now.

Physical contact. Yes, she might be right – Ace really gives the best hugs. His body fits perfectly into the curves of Law's body. His arms are strong, but gentle, even if it’s hard to breathe sometimes. His skin radiates the heat, and it’s soft; velvet that warms. And his scent – sweet, slightly bitter. Calming. The surgeon sometimes even feels sleepy just by burying his nose in the spot between Ace’s shoulder and neck. 

This is a great discovery. It's even explainable. Scientifically, as Law loves. But he has no desire to delve into the origins.

Law is not stupid, but a coward. 

“Let me keep the suspense,” says Ace, playing the fool again. His fingertips draw intricate runes on the skin of Law's abdomen. “More importantly, my theory appears to be true. It makes me feel happy and nervous. In a good way.”

“Is this also classified?” clarifies Law, spreading the orange light over the bottom of the ashtray. 

The stinging smoke makes it difficult to breathe. 

It's not about smoke.

“Yeah, don’t want to freak you out,” Ace laughs, leaving a small kiss on Law’s shoulder. 

Well, it’s too late. 

Trafalgar humphs, cringes a little, thinking about some difficult things. Sighs. It’s not a big revelation; it's not something that Law didn't know before. Just– He doesn't want to talk about it aloud.

He's bad at that kind of thing.

He hesitates for a few moments and then turns to face Ace. He needs a distraction. Even if his salvation is his own threat. 

With a pretty face, beautiful eyes, and touching freckles. 

The surgeon admires the view.

“Hey, Torao, should I drive you home?” it is a sudden question. Ace asks it softly, lifting his chin slightly to stare at Law's face. His hot palm strokes Trafalgar's lower back. “I didn't drink alcohol, I promise.”

“Why? The party is over?” Law wants to go home, actually, but he is not sure if he wants to be there alone. 

“Of course not, it won’t be over for a few more hours,” Portgas D. snorts and lowers his gaze from the surgeon’s eyes to his lips. His speech slows down. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I know you're not a fan of such noisy events, but you are here. And I’m responsible for this, so– I can take you home and come back. Don’t even argue, I know you are a big boy and can go home by yourself, but I want to spend a few extra minutes with you. Just– Say the word and I will do everything.”

The surgeon examines every millimeter of Ace’s face and loses sobriety. Damn honest eyes. A devilish scattering of stars on the cheeks. Captivating lips that move closer to him; Law’s knees always buckle when they kiss him. Everything is so pretty, disarming. 

Trafalgar is too weak against all this.

The thought of being alone at home makes him feel cold.

He purses his lips, losing the undeclared war again, and places his hand on Ace's shoulder. The other hand reaches up to his face and gently brushes the overgrown bangs away from the freckled cheek. Then it settles down on Ace’s neck, right under his ear. The thumb strokes the lobe.

“No, I’m fine. I can stay and even bear your brother,” Trafalgar can't even believe that he just said those words voluntarily. But– Ace brought him to his knees. 

“You sure?” God, that smile is starting fires between his ribs. The surgeon nods as if hypnotized. Ace laughs and moves his face closer. The voice drops to a whisper: “Don't know what drives you, but I'm glad. You know, you can also stay overnight. My bed is as comfortable as yours. And I promise, you will have a peaceful dream. The main thing is don't be modest.”

“I’ll think about it,” Law is sure, he won’t see his bedroom today. 

His nose touches the tip of Ace’s. 

“Okay, please,” Portgas closes his eyes and shortens the painful distance between them. 

Kisses on the lips. Sweetly, tenderly, scorching the skin with the caressing breath.

Law can’t say no to him. He responds, even takes the initiative.

Ace is a good kisser. Maybe even the best. And Law is glad that no one ever commented on this Ace’s skill in his presence. 

He doesn't want to share. 

He is too greedy.

And completely weak-willed.

- - - hint - - -

Ace is conventionally attractive. He has a strong charisma and an easy-going nature. And it is not a secret to other people.

They often stare at Portgas D., try to flirt with him, or attract his attention. Law regularly sees how strangers give him phone numbers or ask for nicknames on social network accounts [Ace rarely shares only his nicknames, but never his number], if they are out. Carefree, bold, and even a little impudent. Not at all like Law. He has Ace’s phone number and they are friends on social networks only because Ace asked Trafalgar to share it. Otherwise, Law wouldn't have tons of spam in his phone. 

It’s weird that it doesn't irritate him as usual. Other people he knows don't have that luxury.

However, intrusive people are very annoying. Especially when they look at Ace like a piece of meat.

This evening in the bar is no exception. Ace is the center of a little attention from a couple of people. They don't contact him directly, but they look at him, stealthily, with a hint of sympathy and a small desire. Law knows these kinds of looks.

He has the same. Sometimes. And he is not proud of it. 

Pervert.

He watches these people [bartender, girl in a red dress, man in glasses], taking small sips of beer, and passively listens to Ace's story, which he tells to Sabo. 

“The building is on fire, we have evacuated everyone, we are almost ready to put out the fire. And then a woman comes up with a stupid request: “Don't flood my dresser, it's antique.” I honestly didn't know what to say, but I gave my word that we will save it at all costs. What else could I say?” Ace is loud, bright, with active gesticulation and infectious laughter. He is destined to attract attention. Even if he doesn't do it on purpose.

A stupid light for insects.

“And what happened next?” asks Sabo with a laugh, but he doesn't get an answer right away.

A waitress comes up to their table with full glasses of beer before Ace replies and places them on the table. Under Ace's glass, there is a napkin with numbers and nauseating hearts on it. Law notices it immediately, gives it a cold stare, and hears a derisive snort from Sabo. Apparently, he noticed the note too.

Ace looks confused and stares up to the waitress, tilting his head slightly to the side:

“But we didn’t order.”

“Compliment from the bartender,” explains the young girl, nodding towards the bar counter. “Please, enjoy.”

She disappears, leaving glasses of beer on the table. Ace shrugs his shoulders, takes his half-empty glass of beer, smiles widely, and thankfully salutes the bartender, who stares at them with a smirk on his lips. His gaze becomes harder, more interested when he gets a reaction from Ace.

Ace looks back at Sabo, ignoring the napkin, and continues his story. As if nothing had happened. As if this bartender does not exist, as well as his signs of attention.

But inside Law there is no peace. The back of his neck is on fire. His spine is tense. His jaw is cramping, the knot is tightening in his stomach, and this disgusting sour taste of something unknown is settling on the tongue. It burns. 

And he has no idea why he feels like this almost every time, when someone shows silent [and not only] sympathy towards Ace. Trafalgar wants to close their eyes, forcibly turn them away, and hiss something he has no right to say.

All these reactions are irrational.

Because Ace doesn't belong to him.

This thought painfully plunges into his insides like broken glass.

At least they didn't promise anything to each other.

He reflects on his inner world, clenches and unclenches the fingers of the hand that lies on the table, and unconsciously looks at the bartender again. Stupid inner impulses. Surprisingly, the guy stares back at him, but not Ace, and smirks. As if he knows something. As if challenging Law. As if he is confident that he could take someone, who belo– 

Slap in the face.

Sobering and intoxicating. 

Law squeezes the glass harder than necessary and lowers the chin. Irrational anger poisons his blood and makes his lungs tight. The heart beats loudly in the chest, almost breaking the ribs, and demands retribution. The face seems to be on fire. Law clenches his jaw tightly and takes a deep breath.

Ace is not a trophy; he is not even Law's partner. They just sleep and spend time together, nothing more. No status. No discussions. Law even doesn’t know if Ace is seeing someone else – he never asks and doesn't want to. He likes to think that he is special, that Ace looks only at him, touches only him. 

Self-deception can be sweet and inspiring. Even if it’s toxic and unfriendly; destructive.

Trafalgar allows himself to be its victim. 

And this feeling inflames his competitive spirit.

Something dark and overwhelming wants to prove to this cheeky, handsome guy that Ace's attention is occupied. That Ace has someone to touch, hug, and kiss. Today Ace will leave this bar with him and wake up in his bed in the morning. Completely naked and tired. And Law will be a reason. 

Maybe he is drunk. Maybe got infected with foolishness from Portgas D., or his brother. But he should have a small power and a way to win this local war.

Maybe he is drunk. Maybe got infected with foolishness from Portgas D., or his brother. But he should have a small power and a way to win this local war.

Law takes a sip of his beer and moves closer to Ace, presses his shoulder into his shoulder. And freezes. That's where his plan ends. All he has is faith that Ace will get the hint. Even if Law is terrible at this kind of thing.

Portgas D. gets it.

“She screamed at me when I brought her a piece of coal and a copper handle after we put out the fire. That’s all we had left from her dresser. It said that it died as a hero,” Ace laughs, squinting his eyes, and finishes his glass of beer. And before continuing his story, he places his hand on Law's lower back. No unnecessary words or clarifications. “I even made a face like I was really worried about this loss, but she didn’t buy it. But what could we do? Everyone survived. At least half the house remained. But no thanks. It feels like I should be a wizard and save stupid cabinets.”

Law shifts in his seat, feeling the heat from Ace's hand on his back. And hold his breath, when the wide palm slides higher up his spine and stops at the back of his neck. Squeezes it with a pleasant, light spasm, strokes, and then moves to his shoulder. Hugs. Gently. And completely unconsciously. Natural.

Because Ace doesn't get distracted even for a second, he continues to talk to his brother. His arm lives its own life. He doesn't even think about it or pay attention to his actions. He hugs Law automatically, as if it is his habit. As if they are  together, they are dating, and it’s a common thing between them. 

And actually it is [common], Law simply chose not to think about it.

Until now.

The sudden revelation makes Trafalgar wince. His body freezes, and his breathing becomes ragged. Thoughts in his head fly chaotically like balls; they hit the walls of his skull and do not form the correct answer. The truth that Law fears, but wants to know, he has to ask.  

He swallows a cold lump and purses his lips. 

The harmony is broken. He is stuck in limbo. And only Ace has all the answers to his questions. 

Absorbed in thoughts, Law doesn’t even notice that the conversation at their table is dying down. He returns to reality only after he hears his name voiced by Ace. It might not even be the first time.

“Hey, Torao, Candycane, are you okay? You are shaking,” Ace sounds nervous and looks the same. Law notices it when he turns to face him. A hot palm squeezes his shoulder harder than before. Protectively. “And you look pale. Does something hurt?” 

Law blinks at Ace's face and shakes his head. Unsure.

Fuck, they really have to talk about everything. 

No one looks at ordinary friends like that, or gives them stupid pet names. 

“I’m– I’m fine, just– the alcohol went to my head. Don't worry, I’m really okay,” Law’s voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat. Ace frowns; he didn’t buy this lousy lie. But the surgeon really has no idea how to explain Portgas D. his mental turmoil. His thoughts are a mess. And he hopes Ace won’t ask more questions. At least when there is an audience here.

Ace silently stares at Law longer than necessary. Law sees that Ace wants to ask more questions, but he doesn't dare. 

Instead of interrogations, Portgas D sighs, shaking his head slightly, and then smiles. He continues to look at Law and reaches for the button to call the waiter.

His thumb strokes the surgeon's shoulder.

“I will order some water for you,” he explains his actions. And instead of moving away, he leans over to Law’s other shoulder, kisses it through the clothes, and looks up at Law’s face. The lower part of the freckled face stays pressed to Law’s body. He speaks, the tenderness in Ace's voice makes Trafalgar's insides clench. “If it gets worse, tell me right away, okay? Just don't be silent. Your well-being is important to me.”

Law stares in awe at Ace’s face and nods.

Portgas D. destroyed him. Completely. With those eyes, gestures, and smiles. 

Law is a goner; mad about him.

And it's scary as hell.

“Everything is fine [maybe],” confirms Law with the words and relaxes his shoulders under Ace's caress. It's too comfortable and nice. They will talk about everything later. If Trafalgar doesn't chicken out in the end. 

“Okay, Candycane, I’m here for you, remember it,” Ace, hardly satisfied with Law's closed nature, but he is being patient. He again kisses the surgeon's shoulder that is covered with clothes and straightens his back. Returns to the conversation. His arm stays on Law’s shoulder as a gesture of support and protection. 

Trafalgar, accepting his fate, presses himself closer to Portgas’s D. side and looks up. Sabo looks at him, smiles mysteriously, and hides his smile behind a glass of beer. It's strange that Sabo didn't make fun of him. He seems to have understood everything. But Trafalgar prefers not to think about what's going on in that head.

He turns his gaze to the people around him, looks at those who looked at Ace earlier, and feels a slight sense of satisfaction. The girl in the red dress lost interest and now actively talks to her friend. The guy in glasses disappeared somewhere. And the bartender… Well, he stares at Law like he's trash – the surgeon tries his hardest not to give him the middle finger.

This is childish. Even if he really wants to. Winners don't act like that.

And goners either.

- - - habitude - - -

Ace is a little shit. 

A terrible, unbearable person, who burst into Trafalgar's life without asking and ruined his existence. He made him weak, happy, addicted, and pathetic. He is the cause of Trafalgar's torment and withdrawal symptoms. Obsessive thoughts. And discomfort in the body. 

Yearning.

And Law really hates him for all of this. 

Especially when his stupid body asks for hugs but doesn't get them. At least with the same frequency as it always has been.

It would be funny if it weren't so disturbing.

Their relationship status finally became clear. And it was the most embarrassing conversation in Trafalgar's life. Not because the topic is sensitive and intimate, but because Law felt himself stupid and blind. Ace didn't even know whether to laugh or move to another city. They were on completely different pages of different books. 

But fortunately, everything was resolved. They are dating [even longer than Law thought] and they are fine. Well, almost.

There are problems in paradise, and they appeared out of nowhere. 

Because Law sees no visible reasons why Ace started hugging him less.

You would think Law should be happy – his personal bubble belongs to him. Again. But– it feels empty. And Trafalgar is cold in it. 

God, he is like The Fox from the fairytale, and his Prince is cruel and irresponsible as hell. 

The worst part is that Ace understands hints and gives Law a potion of embraces, when the surgeon, not on purpose, hangs around closer than necessary, casually touching Ace. This happens unconsciously. And when Ace comes to his senses and realizes what he's doing, he looks tense. He doesn't pull away, but the hugs become uncomfortable.

Disappointing.

The initiative also disappeared somewhere.

Driven by unpleasant observations, Law thinks that the problem is hidden in him. Amazing. He definitely needs to deal with insecurities and unnecessary worries. Thank you very much, Portgas.

Law is going crazy from an avalanche of previously unexperienced emotions and unnatural desires. And doesn't dare to start a difficult conversation. He'll have to be vulnerable, and he is not sure if he is ready to be so. 

Until one day.

Ace is at his apartment after work. He made dinner. He chose the movie they are watching now. He sits on Law’s sofa in his shorts [of course, no T-shirt] and looks relaxed. He calls the surgeon by pet names in small conversations. In short, he behaves like Ace. But–

Trafalgar had a hard day. His social battery is completely drained from interacting with people. And all he needs is a person he considers close and a few hugs. It's hard to admit even to himself, but he finds peace in it – Ace broke Law down. 

Law fidgets in his seat, pursing his lips, and glances at Ace, who is sitting half a meter away from him. Looks tempting. Trafalgar fights against himself and the desire to cuddle with a warm body. And in the end, he loses in disgrace.

Damn Ace.

The surgeon sighs, accepting defeat, and moves closer to him, continuing to look at the screen. He has no idea what's going on there. He has a goal and he achieves it – presses against the warm thigh and shoulder and waits. Ace usually throws his arm over his shoulder, strokes skin or hair; or asks Trafalgar to move lower so that he can lie on the strong chest, while he rests his cheek on the top of the surgeon’s head.

This time was supposed to be the same. Ace, watching the movie, even raises his hand to hug Law, but freezes. Trafalgar sees out of the corner of his eye that Ace is looking at him, frowns for some reason and then– He places his hand. Not to Law's shoulder as usual, but to his knee.

Law slowly looks down at his leg, stares at it and Portgas’s palm intensely, and clenches his jaw.

Irrational emotions explode inside him.

He can't stand it.

“Portgas, what’s going on?” he asks, reaching for the remote control. The movie is paused. Law turns to Ace and clenches his hand into a fist. “Are you a virgin on your first date? What kind of chaste gestures are these?”

“I didn't know what to do with my hand,” laughs Ace, rubbing the back of his head, and it sounds unnatural. Something unnamed settles heavily under the surgeon's ribs.

“You never had issues with this before,” notices Law and turns his body towards Portgas D., bending one leg on the couch. Ace's hand disappears from his knee and finds a couch cushion. “You've been weird the last few weeks. You hardly harass me or try to strangle me.”

“God, that sounds terrible,” Ace lets out a chuckle, playing the fool. He hugs the sofa cushion and hides his chin behind it. “Am I that clingy?”

Law frowns; the question catches his attention. 

“Yes, you are clingy. You live in my personal space without even asking,” Trafalgar answers honestly and watches Ace's reaction closely. The smile disappears from Ace's face and his gaze becomes lost. Guilty? Law feels an unpleasant lump in his throat. There's clearly something wrong here. It’s not a big revelation; they even talked about how Law can’t stand unnecessary physical contact. But that never stopped Ace. What has changed now? Did he say something? But when? Law can't remember. “It's a part of you and–”

“Torao, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. You grumbled, of course, but not like with others, and I thought–” Ace cuts off Law and shrinks his shoulders, looking away. “I thought you were okay, when it’s me. But– I didn't want you to be disgusted. I want to be your safe place, and I’m trying to control myself. Although it is not easy.”

Law blinks. And then frowns, trying to remember when he said something about it to Ace. But his tired brain produces zero vivid memories.

“When did I tell you that I’m disgusted? Not about others, but you?” Law decides not to put off the conversation about Ace's problems. He is too tired to be shy. And his body aches waiting for hugs.

“Oh, you said nothing about it, I just–” Ace stops talking and hugs the pillow tighter. He is silent, and it's a little annoying. 

“Ace, again, where did you hear this…” Law doesn’t want to say this word. He says this word: “...shit? And who told you that, if it wasn’t me?”

Trafalgar tries to remain calm, but his anxiety is uncontrollable. It freezes his lungs with an icy hand and squeezes his bones.

Ace looks at him without habitual confidence and hides the lower part of his face behind the cushion. Sighs. So heavily, as if he were carrying the world on his shoulders.

Perhaps one local world for sure.

“It’s about the couple I know,” he starts and has trouble finding the right words. It's like he's part of some dirty story. He pauses for a moment but continues: “Well, they are not a couple anymore. They broke up a few weeks ago. Sure, there were other issues, but– One of the main problems was that they were not temperamentally suitable. It's not about sex. It’s about… One of them is like me, clingy and intrusive. The other one is more reserved in emotions. They could not find a compromise on this issue and broke up. They said it was better for them this way. So I... thought I need to be less annoying. Because I don't want to be like them. And I don't want you to feel like you're suffocating. I know, you are not a fan of unnecessary physical contact, and I promise that I will try to control myself.”

Ace falls silent and hides his face in the couch cushion. He looks vulnerable. Law wants to comfort him. But he restrains himself.

Instead of support, he stares at the top of Ace's head with a long, unreadable gaze. Doesn't even blink. He has a lot he wants to say, but he doesn't dare. He doesn't want to be rude.

However, Ace's overanxiousness drives him crazy.

But more negative emotions evokes that couple – for some reason, Law became a victim of someone’s failed  relationships. He didn't ask for it. He may have never even heard of these people. But they– they destroyed his [surprisingly] comfort zone. 

Bastards. 

Law hates them. 

And feels a little angry at Ace.

He doesn’t hide it: 

“Portgas, I don't understand one thing: what does this have to do with you?”

“Why is it not my problem? The couple's dynamics are similar. This is their experience, which I find instructive. I… I… I really don’t want to lose you, because there is a lot of me in your life. I like you and– They scared me. So I decided it would be better this way. At least you'll be comfortable.”

Law's ears become hot, but he ignores this feeling. The anger at Ace’s behavior wanes slightly – the surgeon mentally scolds himself for being soft again. But how can you feel differently here? The self-confident guy turns out not to be so self-confident. He has fears. And one of them is too... thrilling.

Fuck, Law is a jellyfish now. Thank you very much. 

Trafalgar accepts his fate, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers, and sighs. What should he do with him? Law is too bad at consoling. And honesty doesn't come easy to him.

But he can't leave everything like that. And his body... Law just needs to satisfy his needs.

His struggle with himself does not last long. Law is losing to his weakness, which was not there before.

Stupid Ace. 

He chews his lower lip, fidgets, and finally takes a deep breath. It comes out as an order:

“Portgas, I really hate you for this. Stop overthinking and hug me. Now! And–”

He doesn’t have to ask Ace twice. He jerks his head up and stares at Trafalgar for a second. And then he acts. The sofa cushion that Portgas had been crumpling before flies off in an unknown direction. Strong arms reach out to Law and then pull his body towards Ace’s. They wrap around Trafalgar's shoulders and head, press him  [his face] against the strong chest. A nose with a myriad of freckles buries itself in the surgeon's hair; it inhales. Ace kisses Law’s top of the head and even moans with pleasure. 

Law suppresses the same impulse within himself.

Portgas’s scent smells like magic. His body and arms warms better than any blanket. His heartbeat under his ear normalizes Law’s pulse. It feels frighteningly good. Amazing. Law could live like this forever.

Totally broken. 

He instantly relaxes in his partner's arms and closes his eyes. Finally. He is in his place. And he hopes that his weaknesses will not be commented on. 

But heaven no longer hears this prayer.

“You missed this, right?” Ace's voice sounds gentle, but also smug. He breathes loudly into Law's hair, as if he can't get enough air.

“Please keep quiet,” mumbles into Ace’s hairy chest, Law, and feels sleepy. Forbidden magic. Stupid reflexes. “You piss me off. Next time, talk to me instead of staring at others. It’s creepy, you know? I don't like to be compared to someone.”

“So you don't mind that I'm clingy?” Ace clarifies and hugs Law a little tighter.

“I'm used to it,” Law doesn't answer directly. It's not Ace’s business. 

“And do you even like my hugs?” Ace doesn't stop talking, depriving Law of the opportunity to meditate in a suitable environment. Begs for a compliment.

“You talk a lot,” the surgeon refuses to answer. He has no intention of tickling Portgas's ego.

“I also hug a lot. And I can stop if it’s uncomfortable,” Ace teases and manipulates. He is not serious, but the embrace becomes less strong. He forces him to confess. He feels power.

Law won't fall for this.

Naїve.

“Don’t even dare to stop hugging me,” Law lifts his head and reluctantly opens his eyes. Ace’s smiling attractive face is too close. Damn. No chances here. “Return it to how it was.”

“Oh, I love how dramatic this is,” laughs Portgas D. and reaches out to kiss Law on the nose. The arms squeeze Trafalgar tighter. “Can't admit that you like my hugs? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. They'll be jealous.”

Law stares at Ace with a long, unreadable gaze, and then clicks his tongue. Annoying. He lowers his face, makes himself more comfortable on Ace’s chest, closes his eyes, and yawns. 

He dreamed about it for half a day.

“Portgas, I really hate you sometimes,” confesses Law, rubbing his cheek against this amazing chest. Ace doesn't need to know about this, though.

“I hope you're lying,” laughs Ace, and also settles down more comfortably. His face is buried in Law's hair again.

“Who knows,” says Trafalgar and allows himself to smile. 

He is lying. Ace is right. But still– That's enough soul-searching for today. The surgeon has already said a lot.

He hopes that this will be enough for Ace for a long time.

Ace, of course, won't leave him alone now.

- - - mutuality - - -

“Have you ever thought that I'm not your person?” the question is like a knitting needle that is hammering in Trafalgar’s spine. It hurts. It's unpleasant. And it's definitely not what you expect on your day off.

Law straightens his back and turns his head towards Ace.

Frowns.

His hands continue to make coffee for them.

“I was just wondering why you decided that I was the best match for you. You are quite popular. And with other people, than me, I think, it is less problematic to build relationships. So... it's still a mystery why you chose me. I never doubted my choice,” the surgeon is not being disingenuous. Even if he doesn't finish the important part. Now is not the time for these games. Ace's question is quite serious; his voice and expression explain it very clearly. “Why did you ask? Did someone say or do something again? That's why you've been gloomy these last few days?”

There are too many questions – not typical for Law. But he is worried.

Ace is not himself. Again. 

But this time, he is just silent and pensive. Something is bothering him, but he hides the reasons. Dismisses Law’s questions. And sometimes fakes smiles.

It's annoying, but more unsettling. 

“We have no common interests or hobbies. Our lifestyle preferences are different. I'm not even talking about the fact that I'm overly energetic and noisy. We already talked about this. Just…” Ace ruffles the hair on the back of his head in irritation, looking the other way. Sighs. And puts his hand on the table. “Isn't it more fun when interests coincide? There is always something to talk about; take a break from the hard everyday life. I am ready to support any of your interests or hobbies, and I sincerely enjoy listening to you and attending themed events with you. But still... I'm not that deeply involved and can’t decently maintain a conversation. You must be bored.”

The surgeon frowns deeply and stops making coffee. He turns to face Ace, rests his lower back on the countertop, and tilts his head slightly to the side. Hands tightly grip the edge of the kitchen unit.

“No, I’m not. It's enough for me that you listen to me, even if you're not interested in the topic,” Law actually loves to see Ace's face when he's paying attention to Trafalgar's words. Even if it's difficult and boring. And he really listens, because he remembers some facts and sometimes asks something again. “And I like to listen to things that are important to you. We don't have to share the same interests and hobbies, even if we are dating. Different interests open the mind. Don’t see any problem here. So… Why did this suddenly make you upset?”

Ace purses his lips and looks down. His thumb nail scratches his index finger.

“This guy… from the comic convention we attended last week; this one with the scar on his chin and the eyes that undressed you. He… he got you talking and made you smile a lot. You haven't seen yourself from the outside, but you literally glowed with excitement when you discussed this old comic. And– It wasn’t just one topic, you have a match in everything. You talked to him for almost an hour and looked so… happy,” Ace pronounces each word with difficulty, as if they don’t fit in his mouth. His shoulders are hunched, as if he is trying to make himself small. He looks at the table most of the time, but then he looks up at Law. Finishes his thought, without even blinking: “Don't get me wrong. I like to see you happy, you become even more beautiful when you smile and laugh. I fall in love with you all over again every time. But– I have never made you so happy. Never made you smile like this. Never been a reason. And– It made me think maybe I'm not your person? Maybe you wanted someone else for yourself?”

Law raises his eyebrows in surprise and blinks slowly, looking at his partner. 

What kind of nonsense is going on inside this beautiful head?

But he doesn't ask. 

This is serious for Ace, his expression speaks for itself – brown eyes seem to be covered in glass. 

Something cold and heavy is growing between Trafalgar’s ribs. His fingers grip the tabletop tighter; his legs feel numb. Seeing Ace like he's emotionally wrecked is unbearable. This is shocking. This is… something that shouldn't be. Not because of Law. 

The surgeon swallows the sticky, frosty lump and frowns. The convention was nice, even fun. Mostly because Ace attended the events with him. It was like a date, and it seemed like it failed. Law didn't even realize it. Ace was in a good mood [turns out he's an actor] almost all the time. And his conversation with an old acquaintance from university – Law chatted and forgot about this dialogue. Nice communication, but it doesn't matter at all. 

And what does “undress with his eyes” mean? When? 

Although who the hell cares?

The surgeon's area of ​​interest is narrowed to one person.

Trafalgar hesitates for only a few moments and then pushes off from the kitchen unit and takes a few uncertain steps towards his partner. He comes very close, without taking his eyes off the sad eyes, and reaches out to Ace.

“Ace, please stand up,” he says in a calm voice, but feels nervous.

Ace's thoughts are a minefield – it's scary to lose his footing. But Law will never be able to leave him alone with his doubts.

Even if they are empty.

A hot hand fits perfectly into a cold one. Ace gets up from his chair without protest and looks into Law's eyes. He's very close, in Law's personal space. Perfect. Everything is as it should be. 

Except for that sad, slightly frightened face.

Law squeezes Ace's hand with his own and touches freckled cheek with his other one. Gently runs his fingertips over the sun-kissed skin, removes a couple of wavy hairs, and then carefully lifts the partner's head with his palm, placing it on the neck, under the jaw. He examines every inch of his pretty face, admires every wrinkle, the small scar above his eyebrow, draws attention to a couple of freckles on the forehead, and cute long eyelashes. Looks into dark glass.

In response, he gets dilated pupils and something very deep that overshadows the sadness.

Law hopes Ace sees the same thing in his gold.

It’s mutual; it has a name. 

Not said out loud. But still, it is not hidden at all.

“Ace, this is my old friend with whom I have a couple of local jokes. There have never been any other connections between us except conversations and discussions. I don't even know what he thinks about me,” he smiles slightly, reflexively stroking his cheek with his thumb. Ace pouts, but his cheek rests on the cold palm.

“He wants to fuck you, Torao. I know that look. I've been looking at you like this for years,” Ace quietly grumbles. This is not a new confession – Ace has already spoken several times about his long-standing sympathy towards Law. “And still, he is really a good match. And you were... different. I don't make you like this: cheerful, smiling, and talkative. Of course, I look for the problem in myself.”

“And you have to stop doing this. It was a pleasant meeting that reminded me of my youth. Nothing more. I've even forgotten about this person. It's more important to me that you were there. I was really happy that you did it for me. Because you cared. And I care. About you, but not about the jokes from others and their looks. I need only your eyes on me, okay? And you have mine. Always. You see how I look at you, right? Do I look at anyone the same way?” Ace nods and then shakes his head, barely breathing. Law's ears burn as he speaks. It's embarrassing, but it comes easily. Trafalgar probably is comforted by the thought that no one would believe Ace if he decided to tell anyone about this. Although it is unlikely, Ace doesn't talk about things that are too personal. “Good, because you are special to me. You give me goosebumps and make me want to go home sooner. I think about you all the time. I feel peace when I'm with you. I am relaxed. I want to know what's wrong with you and how you feel. I'm interested in your stories. I like your jokes, even the stupid ones. And the way you manipulate me. You make me so weak that I can't say no. I love your touches and the way you've settled into my personal space. Brazenly, confidently. And I allowed it. I allow you everything, only you. It scares me, but I like it. Even if I almost never tell you about it. I hoped you would feel it. I was wrong. But now you know. And I hope you believe me.”

Law falls silent, still looking at his partner's face with a soft smile.

Ace looks at the surgeon silently, not even blinking. His cheeks are pink, his breathing is ragged. And his eyes look at the surgeon so– Law has those stupid insects under his skin again. No one had ever looked at him like that.

God, his embarrassing monologue was worth it.

Ace has more power than he realizes.

Where could these doubts come from?

Perhaps Trafalgar needs to open his mouth more often – impudent people can also be insecure.

“Please switch from the boyfriend to the doctor, I need resuscitation, I think I'm dying,” Ace speaks in a whisper and smiles. His eyes still look like they're covered in glass, but they shine differently. 

Law likes it better this way.

He's completely defeated.

“No, you are not, I'm telling you as a doctor,” quietly laughs Law, and, unable to restrain himself, pulls Ace towards himself. He wraps his arms around Ace's neck and waist, feels warm hands on his body, and kisses his partner's temple. Portgas D. feels comfortable in his hands. Perfect. The surgeon cannot imagine anyone else in his place. However, he doesn’t want to. “But I would measure your temperature; your face is unhealthily red.”

“Whose fault do you think it is?” Portgas D. falsely complains into Trafalgar's shoulder and squeezes his sides tighter. There is a hint of amusement in his voice. “You brutally knocked me out. God, my knees are shaking.”

“Mine too,” Law confesses, enjoying the warmth of Ace's body and his smell. The insects inside him are already dragons. “I never thought I could put together what I think and say it out loud. I'm bad at this kind of thing.”

Ace laughs, rubbing his cheek against Trafalgar's shoulder. And then, with joy in his voice, he says:

“Torao, you underestimate yourself. You do this more often than I admit. And it's amazing. Please never stop.”

“I will try,” Law speaks quietly and laughs. “Do you still want a coffee?”

“Later, please, I’m busy in my paradise,” Ace’s voice sounds pleased and relaxed. His hot palm finds its way under Law’s T-shirt, right to his lower back. 

Nice. Frighteningly familiar.

Damn Ace.

His most terrible death curse, that destroyed him.

Everything is as Law predicted.

But what he can never predict is that his perdition will be sweet.

And it really is – the most delicious and blissful destruction.

Ace has to do it again. 

He will.