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Law is not overly sentimental. You know, other than the tattoos, his Jolly Roger, the entirety of his existence being a living memorial for a fallen loved one. Okay fine. He's a little sentimental. But here’s the thing:
He is a man of logic, of reason, of orderly compartmentalized facts. He does not pine. He does not moon. He does not lie awake in bed at--he squints at the clock--four-fucking-seventeen a.m., propped up on one elbow, staring at the face of the man currently starfished across their shared bed like he’s the prize in a claw machine Law didn’t know he wanted until he won it.
But illogically, Law is watching Luffy sleep.
Luffy is naked. That’s not unusual– Luffy usually only sleeps with Law when they’re hooking up. Luffy splays himself across the bed almost almost territorially, one stretchy leg twisted around the blanket so tightly it looks like he’s trying to wrestle it into submission in his sleep.
He’s drooling. Also not unusual. And still, Law stares.
Because here’s the thing: there’s a difference between sleeping Luffy and post-sex sleeping Luffy. The latter glows. He’s all sun-warm skin and sweet little sighs, muscles loose, mouth puffed open like he’s dreaming of kissing something and forgot how lips work. And Law, fool that he is, wants. Even now, even after, when he should be smug and sated and asleep, he wants.
He shifts just enough to watch the way the moonlight spills across Luffy’s chest, painting his scars in silver. The sheets are barely covering him. One dusky nipple peeks free. His hand, tossed above his head, twitches a little when Law reaches out.
“Idiot,” Law mutters affectionately. Because he’s allowed to be affectionate now. That’s the deal. Luffy made a whole production of it. Something something relationship something something forever.
(He said it like it was no big deal. Which, for Luffy, probably meant it was a big deal. Law had said yes in a tone that might’ve sounded reluctant, but mostly because he’d been halfway to having a breakdown about how much he wanted it.)
Luffy shifts again, brow twitching like he’s about to wake. Law stills.
Then Luffy settles. His foot kicks the blanket, and the leg wrapped around it goes taut, like a drawn bowstring. He’s so fucking bendy. Disgusting.
Law exhales and, unable to help himself, reaches out to brush a curl of black hair off Luffy’s cheek.
The second his thumb grazes Luffy’s bottom lip, it happens: Luffy turns his head and sucks.
It is instant. Instinctive. Filthy.
Law goes very still.
Luffy hums a little, warm breath ghosting over Law’s knuckle. He’s not awake. Not really. Just... content. Still mouthing at Law’s thumb like it’s a candy. And Law--
Well. He has always considered himself a man of good impulse control.
But his dick kicks like someone called it by name.
He stares down at Luffy, whose lips are now gently wetting the pad of Law’s thumb. His lashes are fluttering. He’s got the nerve to look innocent.
“Goddamn,” Law whispers.
Luffy, in response, shifts again and makes a soft little nhh sound in the back of his throat.
Law’s thumb slips from his mouth. Slick and shiny. And now there’s an idea blossoming at the back of Law’s mind like a particularly filthy flower. Rooted in curiosity. Watered by months of trust and Luffy's stupidly open heart. Fertilized by the absolutely outrageous way Luffy’s mouth is just--right there.
His eyes trail down. Luffy’s lips. His tongue, barely peeking out. His throat, long and exposed. That one drop of drool threatening to slide sideways onto the pillowcase.
He’s such a mess, Law thinks. I adore him.
And then: I wonder what else I could get away with.
Oops.
He did say he wasn't sentimental. But maybe he’s something worse.
Maybe he’s indulgent.
Maybe--maybe just a little.
Law shifts under the sheet, groaning softly as the thought solidifies. Dangerous. Tempting.
He glances down at Luffy again, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the subtle flex of his leg still wrapped around the blanket. Still deeply, totally asleep.
Law lets his hand drift lower.
Just an experiment.
Nothing serious.
That’s what he tells himself as he shuffles carefully up the bed, cock already half-hard and stupidly hopeful. Luffy doesn’t stir, except to make another tantalizing little mmm noise in the back of his throat.
The sheets rustle as Law settles over him, careful not to jostle too much. The air is warm, thick with sweat and sex and the faint scent of whatever Luffy had for dinner. Something with soy sauce. Maybe mango. He’s still somehow sticky. Of course he is.
Law hovers for a moment, knees planted on either side of Luffy’s chest. His cock, flushed and eager, bobs gently near Luffy’s face. Shit, he thinks. He’s really doing this.
He palms himself once, watching Luffy’s lips part again with a soft inhale.
"Blanket consent," Law mutters to himself, like a prayer. "You did agree to that. Not sure if you knew what it meant though…"
Then, slowly--so slowly he nearly loses his nerve--he lets the head of his cock brush against Luffy’s lower lip.
Luffy hums.
Law freezes.
Luffy’s mouth opens wider.
And then--oh. Oh.
The stretch is fluid. Warm. Delicious.
Because of course Luffy’s body doesn’t behave like a normal person’s. His lips part and his jaw loosens and his fucking throat relaxes like this is instinct, like he was made for it. There’s no hesitation, no gag, not even a twitch of protest. Luffy just--draws him in. Like he’s been waiting for it.
Law exhales, slow and shaky. One hand comes to brace against the wall above the bed. The other fists in Luffy’s hair, not pulling, just steadying himself.
He’s halfway in before his brain catches up with his dick.
“He’s still asleep,” he murmurs, breathless. Law pokes him in the cheek. “Luffy-ya?”
Luffy doesn’t respond. He sucks.
Law’s hips jerk.
“Holy shit.”
It’s obscene, watching it happen--watching the soft, sleepy clench of Luffy’s mouth around him. The twitch of his eyebrows. The little twitchy flex of his toes under the sheet like he’s dreaming of running like a puppy.
He doesn’t look pained. Doesn’t look confused. If anything, he looks happy. Content. Like someone fed him his favorite treat.
Law rocks forward, slow. Experimental.
Luffy moans.
Fuck.
The sound is liquid heat pooling behind Law’s ribs.
He should stop.
He doesn’t.
Because Luffy--shit, fuck,--Luffy just shifted again, lips pulling him deeper, tongue curling beneath him with frankly unfair enthusiasm.
Law’s thighs tremble. He lets his head fall forward, eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted on a curse that never quite makes it out. “Oh, god, Lu--”
Another soft, wet slurp. Law chokes on air.
Okay. Maybe just a little longer. Just until Luffy wakes up. Just until the next flex of that hot, loose throat sends a jolt of heat through Law’s spine and makes his hips move. Just a little at first--testing the resistance, which is to say, there isn’t any. Luffy just takes it. Like the whole situation is downright cozy. Like Law’s cock is a fucking comfort object.
And then it happens again. Luffy moans. Deep and breathy and garbled, as if his brain hasn’t caught up but his body knows exactly what to do.
That’s what shatters Law’s restraint.
He gives in to whatever madness is possessing him and starts to thrust.
Sloppy. Deep. Without rhythm, without thought. Just need.
The sound is wet and lewd and practically echoing in the room, all obscene suction and spit. Luffy’s mouth gives and gives and gives, lips stretched wide, jaw slack, drool spilling freely down his chin, pooling in the corner of his mouth and dribbling onto the pillow. His cheeks hollow now and then, reflexively. Like he’s trying to taste him even as he sleeps.
Law watches it all, rapt.
It’s not even good, not in any precise, intentional way. No teasing, no control. Just messy, mindless pleasure. Law fucking his mouth like he’ll die if he doesn’t. Luffy gurgling around him.
Law groans through clenched teeth, rolling his hips faster, harder. “Fuck. Fuck. Lu--”
There’s no warning. No slowing down. Just a sharp snap of pleasure and his whole body locking tight as he spills down Luffy’s throat, shaking and breathless and very nearly wailing his name.
Luffy… swallows.
Law stares.
His cock twitches, still half-buried in that warm, slack mouth, as he watches Luffy reflexively gulp him down like it’s nothing. No hesitation. No resistance. Just sleepy little swallows, like he wants it. Like his body knows how to eat, even in his dreams.
Law’s brain empties out like a broken bucket.
He stumbles backward, gasping, cock slipping free with a final wet pop. His knees hit the mattress and he just sits there, panting, staring down at the absolute wreck of a man beside him.
Luffy is still out cold. Still smiling.
And Law, trembling and lightheaded, has the completely unhinged thought: He can eat in his sleep.
Luffy cracks one eye open.
“Mmmm, Torao,” he slurs, voice gravelly and low. He smacks his lips once, visibly tasting Law’s release, then closes his eyes again like he might just fall right back asleep on the spot.
Law, still braced on his elbows and trying to breathe, watches him warily.
Luffy stretches. His spine arches like a cat, arms overhead, muscles rolling in smooth ripples. His leg, still wrapped around the twisted blanket, tugs once as he yawns. “What’re you doin’ all the way down there?” he mumbles, barely even opening his mouth. “You okay?”
Law stares at him. He is naked, wrecked, and still somehow trying to recover from coming so hard he saw stars.
Luffy just reaches up to scratch his stomach, blinking blearily. Like he didn’t just swallow Law’s soul in his sleep.
Then Luffy glances down.
Sees the mess of spit and shine at the corner of his mouth that dripped down his chest. The way Law’s thighs are still twitching. The position he’s in, flopped back like someone took his spine away.
Luffy’s eyes widen slowly.
“Oh,” he says. And then: “Ohhh.”
His head tilts. “Was I--? Did you--?”
Law opens his mouth to explain, or maybe to apologize, but Luffy is already leaning forward, crawling lazily across the bed with a little grin blooming slow and dangerous across his face.
“You put it in my mouth?” he says, delighted. “While I was asleep?”
Law blinks. “We’ve talked about consent,” he starts, half-defensive, half-delirious. “You said yes.” “Oh Torao,” Luffy grins, wide, a little feral, “I’d say yes to anything Torao wants.” Law’s brain makes a sound inside his skull like an egg hitting a frying pan. Luffy blinks at him, lazy and warm, then squints. “You okay?” he asks, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand. Then he yawns, mouth wide and filthy, and Law’s stomach drops because he’s never wanted anything more than to fall into that mouth again and again until he forgets his own name.
Law starts to answer, but Luffy doesn’t wait. He pushes himself up, blinking hard like he’s still catching up, and crawls toward him on all fours.
He doesn’t say anything else. Just leans in and kisses him. And it’s--
Oh, it’s filthy.
Law can taste himself on Luffy’s tongue, slick and salt-bitter and clinging to every part of his mouth, and Luffy kisses like he’s too tired to think but not too tired to devour. Open-mouthed, slow, messy. Like he’s resuming something they never finished. Like he wants to crawl inside Law’s mouth and live there forever.
When he pulls back, he looks at Law for a moment, unreadable. Then he grins, sleepy and crooked. “You taste good.”
Law doesn’t get a chance to respond--Luffy is already dragging him down the bed, firm hands under his thighs, voice a low hum as he tugs Law’s legs up and over his shoulders.
“Wha--Luffy-ya--”
“Shhh,” Luffy says, not even opening his eyes fully. “‘M not done.”
And then he bends down and licks his asshole.
Law’s whole body jerks. His back arches and his hands fly up to clutch at the pillow and drag it behind his head.
“Fuck--!”
It’s immediate. It’s too much. His thighs are still twitching from the last orgasm and now Luffy’s tongue is right there, slow and greedy, lapping him at his puckered entrance like a treat he’s not willing to share. It’s so wet, all suction and spit and stupid swirls of his tongue, and Law is loud, panting and gasping like something’s being torn out of him.
Luffy just giggles.
“Torao likes that?” he asks, and Law could kill him. If he wasn’t clinging to life.
“Fuck you,” Law grits, eyes rolled so far back they might not come down for hours.
Luffy hums, tongue flattening out again. “Okay, later,” he mumbles into him, like he’s got a plan. “Right now I wanna eat.”
He slurps, obnoxious. Grinning against him. Law could die. Then--shit, fuck--Luffy adds a finger.
“Nghhh--!” Law howls, hips trying to flee upward, legs kicking uselessly against Luffy’s broad shoulders. “Lu-ya--fuck--please--”
“Please what?” Luffy’s voice is all sleepy-smug, eyes lidded, lashes fluttering against Law’s thighs as he glances up at him like he’s the most delicious thing in the world. “You want me to stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Okay.” He sucks. Pushes deeper. Crooks his finger just right.
Law breaks.
He’s babbling, incoherent, writhing like he’s being pulled apart molecule by molecule. The pleasure is too sharp, slicing right through the leftover sensitivity and turning it into more. More heat. More ache. More need. It’s dizzying.
He’s gonna pass out. He might pass out. He’s in so fucking in love.
Oh god--he’s in love. His hands are shaking and his voice is raw and his chest is splitting open and this stupid boy is giggling into his ass like it’s a joke and Law thinks-- I’m going to die like this. And I hope I do.
Law realizes he is babbling out loud. Not even really talking. Not moaning. Not even cursing, anymore. Just sounds, high and helpless and spilling out of him like his brain’s been wrung dry. Like Luffy’s tongue has scraped the words out of his mouth and replaced them with need.
Luffy doesn’t let up. Of course he doesn’t, determined little fucker. He’s relentless--mouth working Law open with long, eager strokes, spit and slick everywhere, finger still buried knuckle-deep and crooked just right, like he mapped out Law’s anatomy as well as any medical text Luffy would never fucking read. His other hand slides up, slow and greedy, palm flat against Law’s trembling stomach to hold him still.
“You’re so loud,” Luffy murmurs against him, voice muffled by the obscene press of his tongue. “Didn’t even know you could make noises like this. I like Torao loud.”
Law tries to respond, but all that comes out is a broken gasp and a noise that might be a sob. He’s shaking, full-body shudders like he’s going to fly apart at the seams. His hands scrabble across the pillow, clawing for something to anchor him. Luffy just laughs, breath hot and damp.
“Don’t worry,” he says, and pushes in a second thick finger.
Law whines like an animal.
It’s not even fair. He’s still buzzing from earlier. Feels too slick, too open. Everything feels like it’s on fire, nerves overstimulated and thrumming. And Luffy is loving it--eating him out like a man possessed, fingers working him open, inhumanly stretched-long tongue dragging over every fluttering, sensitive edge until Law is desperate, trying to get away and chase more at the same time.
“I’m--fuck, I’m gonna--Luffy, I can’t--I can’t--”
“Yeah you can,” Luffy hums, gentle and sure. “You can and you’re gonna.”
Then he sucks his now leaking cock back in deep, and curls his fingers against Law’s prostate just right, and Law feels like he’s been struck by lightning as Luffy pulls off of him with a wet pop to circle his taught foreskin with that cunning tongue.
It’s sudden. Devastating. His whole body arches, legs kicking, mouth open in a soundless cry as he comes hard enough to see white. It’s wet, messy, drenching his own stomach and Luffy’s hand and the sheets beneath him. He collapses back into the mattress like he’s been hollowed out, gasping, every nerve frayed and sparking.
Luffy groans low in his throat like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
He licks Law’s release off his fingers, slow and savoring every moment, then reaches down and slicks his cock with the rest, humming as he works.
“You’re such a mess. My messy Torao,” Luffy says fondly, crawling over him, guiding Law’s legs back up. “You gonna let me in now, yeah?”
Law’s too far gone to reply.
Too sensitive, too wrecked, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling with a slack mouth and flushed skin and zero brain cells to spare.
And Luffy, grins and lines himself up to press in slow.
Law whines again, loud and wanton.
“Shhh,” Luffy says, kissing his ankle, breath stuttering as he sinks deeper. “I got you. Gonna make you feel so good, Torao.” Luffy leans forward, one hand braced beside Law’s hip, the other still wrapped around the back of his thigh. Then, without warning, he spits--slow and thick and maybe not quite aimed right--at where they’re joined. The sound is so lewd, and the slick heat of it makes Law twitch, body arching under the weight of him. The spit squelches around Luffy’s cock, some lands wide, gooey and awkward, clumping up into Luffy’s wild pubes.
And then Luffy slams in.
Law cries out, raw and helpless, head tipping back against the pillow, arms scrambling for purchase as Luffy starts to fuck him--really really fuck him--fast, rough, relentless, like something in him snapped the second Law gave in.
“Fuck--fuck, Luffy--” Law gasps, but it’s swallowed by the next thrust, hard enough to rock the bed.
Luffy’s face is flushed now, a slow, creeping pink spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. His brows are drawn together in that rare, intense concentration he usually reserves for battles. His tongue is peeking out between his teeth, wet and pink and stupidly cute, and Law is pretty sure his soul leaves his body for a second.
He groans, loud and wrecked. “Yeah, Lu-ya. Give it to me.”
Luffy’s eyes snap open, locking on his like it’s on. He grins, all teeth.
“Shi shi shi.”
And then he grabs Law’s thighs--both of them--and yanks him flush, hips pistoning with sudden force, like Law’s just challenged him to a duel and Luffy intends to win. Their bodies slap together, rhythm brutal, deep, perfect in the filthiest way imaginable. Law can feel every inch of it, the slick stretch of his body giving way to Luffy’s eager thrusts, the wet slap each time Luffy bottoms out with a grunt that sounds like a curse.
Law’s gone. Gone. Panting, trembling, sweat-slicked and utterly incoherent, and Luffy is still fucking him like there’s a time limit.
It doesn’t take long either way.
Luffy shudders, pace stuttering, grip tightening as he pushes in one final time and groans through his teeth, hips twitching deep inside Law as he comes. Law can feel it, the heat of it, the way Luffy pulses and trembles and fills him, and his whole body spasms at the sensation.
They stay like that for a second. Breathing hard. Skin sticky and flushed and tight with the burn of overuse.
And then Luffy leans forward. The shift makes Law moan--come squelching around the base of Luffy’s cock, still nestled deep inside him. It’s filthy and hot and so good he nearly sobs.
Luffy kisses him. It’s not sweet. It’s not even coordinated. It’s deep and messy, all tongue and heat and fuck, and Law gasps into it like he’s drowning. Their mouths slide together, teeth clicking, and Law clutches at Luffy’s shoulder.
When Luffy finally pulls back, panting against his cheek, Law’s blinking up at him in a daze. Breath ragged. Legs still twitching.
And the look on his face--god.
Law stares.
Luffy’s cheeks are still red. His smile is dazed and open, soft in the corners. He looks flushed and rumpled and smug. And Law, still full, still trembling, looks up at him and thinks-- I get it now. I understand why Boa Hancock looks like she’s gonna faint every time he breathes.
Because he’s radiant. And Law feels like he’s being lit on fire from the inside out.
“…Holy shit,” Law whispers.
Luffy just grins and bumps their noses together, eyes shining.
“Love you too, Torao.”