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Chapter Text

Law was deep in the middle of his homework (specifically, geometric angles and several worksheets worth a non-inconsequential percentage of his grade) when his study session in the library was rudely interrupted by an iced coffee exploding somewhere near his feet.  The cold liquid quickly seeped into his shoes and pant legs, and it was with a muted curse that he shot up from his seat and stumbled back and away from the mess.  There was ice all over the floor, whipped cream splashed against the chair legs, and a lone straw had rolled under the table.  He was livid, teeth digging into the tip of his tongue as he literally bit back the curses, but he knew better than to lose his temper here; he already had enough problems without causing a scene in the library of Silvers Academy.  He was only in his second week here.  He had four long years ahead of him.  It was too soon to mess up.

Law spun around to see exactly who was responsible for this interruption; and, to his surprise, he had to look up to see the person’s face.  They were tall, their shaggy blond head standing well over Law’s, despite the fact that Law was not exactly what one might call short.  The newcomer had lanky arms and legs to match, just barely more muscular than Law, and seemed to have frozen in place with a wide-eyed, shocked expression on his face.  Had he miscalculated and thought that Law was going to sit there and take the abuse?  Maybe he’d actually meant to spill the coffee over Law’s head, or on his books (which Law couldn’t afford to replace!), or something even worse.  Law grit his teeth at the thought.  Who the hell had he pissed off so early in the school year to merit this kind of bullying?  Well, no chance he was going to make himself an easy target. “Can I help you?” he asked quietly, even as his hand made its way to the strap of his messenger bag to assure he had a weapon on hand if he needed it.  It’d be easy enough to play off a swing; oops, sorry, guess I don’t know my own strength, I just meant to pick this up, not smack you in the head with it…

The giant blond opened and closed his mouth a few times, but not a single word came out.  So he really hadn’t expected Law to stand up for himself.  Well, that would make this problem easy enough to sort out.  Just pretend it never happened, while making it clear Law was never going to forget what almost happened. “You need to be more careful.  Everyone’s gone home by now except for us.  If you made a bigger mess, it’d just be us cleaning it up.  No one would know what happened until tomorrow, if ever.”  Hopefully this jackass had enough of a brain to realize what Law was implying here.  But still he stood there, mouth flapping uselessly like a fish, until he dared to take a step forwards-

No, it was a lunge, his entire body was about to crash into Law!  Law grabbed his bag and ducked to the side at the last possible second, resulting in his would-be attacker face-planting into the wooden chair Law had recently occupied.  He crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and chair legs and spilled coffee, giving Law the precious seconds he needed to cram all his school supplies into the bag and snag his blazer up as well.  “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped, then booked it for the library door.  The coffee-soaked carpet and the rest of the mess could be that jackass’s responsibility to clean up.  Law might not fully understand the teenager’s motives, but he could clearly grasp one thing; sticking around was dangerous for his long-term success at the Academy.

-n-

The next day, Law was still quietly fuming about the incident.  He’d had to wash his uniform and shoes by hand and let them air dry so his foster mother, Dadan, wouldn’t find out that he’d almost gotten into trouble in his first month at school.  He wasn’t sure how she’d react to an incident like this (he’d taken great pains to be utterly forgettable and non-confrontational in middle school), and he had no interest in finding out what her response would be.  History had taught him that keeping his head down and drawing as little attention to himself as possible was the best way to ensure his survival in a foster home.  He’d been bounced to new homes for lesser infractions than a near-miss of a library fight, and the past year he’d spent with her had been the closest thing he’d had to a nice life since…since Flevance, leave it at that.  He’d kept out of trouble.  He’d stuck to his books and followed her curfew and never even so much as asked for extra food on her grocery run, or new clothing besides underwear.  He wasn’t a burden.  He’d been good.

And now this mysterious giant was trying to ruin it all!  For what?!  Fun, boredom, sadism?  Had Law accidentally rammed into him in the hallway or something?  Or was this just some kind of weird, rich kid initiation ritual?  It couldn’t be anything he said, Law wasn’t exactly a great conversationalist in class and he didn’t recognize this guy at all.  Still, it was worth going out of his way to avoid more trouble.  At least the campus of his high school worked to his advantage in that endeavor.

Silvers Academy was massive; three sprawling, four-storey buildings (excluding specialty spaces like the greenhouses, fine arts complex, and a robotics lab) all connected by a series of walkways, bridges, and green spaces that formed a prestigious school famed for churning out countless politicians, business moguls, and innovators in everything from engineering to medicine to theater.  Rich families would pay through the nose for one of the few dozen admission spots that opened up each year to this all-boys school; Dadan had once told him that placement at Silvers was nothing short of an express ticket to a successful life, regardless of where his interests would eventually take him.  The fact that Law was here at all was a miracle, in and of itself.  Poor kids like him had to fight tooth and nail for one of the handful of annual scholarships that would help pay for schooling here; frankly, Law still didn’t know whether he or Dadan had been more shocked the day he opened the acceptance letter to a college-prep academy that the spawn of the rich enjoyed as part of their nepotism birthright.  

Law, through a combination of good grades, recommendation letters from former teachers, and a (frankly disgustingly) sentimental recollection of his personal traumas in and after Flevance, had managed to secure one of the full scholarships that would cover tuition, books, fees, uniforms, even meals in the cafeteria.  But a scholarship so precious came with a good deal of criteria he had to meet; no such thing as a free lunch, after all.  Among them was an expectation of him following the Academy’s code of conduct to the letter; and while Law hadn’t actually taken the trouble to read the damn thing, he was willing to wager that starting a fistfight in the library with whatever dumbass had dumped coffee on him violated it.  And he was under no illusions that if it came down to the word of a poor kid versus some moneyed prick?  Law would be out on his ass in a heartbeat.  He couldn’t risk that.  And so instead, he made a point of taking different routes to his classes the next day, weaving down unfamiliar hallways and racing up stairwells that added precious minutes to his trips between classrooms.  Hopefully this would prevent another unfortunate run-in.  Unfortunately, this plan blew up in his face between third period and lunch.

Law was about to take the stairs out of the Math and Science building down to the ground level, when he spotted his would-be aggressor at the top of the stairs on the fourth floor, back turned to Law.  Law bristled; had his plan been figured out already?  Or had he inadvertently brought himself directly into the line of fire by changing his route to match this punk’s?

A quick assessment of the situation revealed that Law had not been spotted yet; not by the blond, nor by anyone else.  It was close to time for the bell to ring, so most students were already in class.  They were alone here.  Law glanced down the stairs; they weren’t that steep, and the landing below on the third floor was wide and flat.  He could pay back the jackass for his assault yesterday; a tumble from this height would barely be enough to startle him, maybe leave a few bruises, but it would make things very clear that Law wasn’t someone to be messed with.  It was tempting, Law thought, as he took a step forwards, hands already reaching out…

But right as he was about to reach his target, the other student turned on the spot, and then seemed to trip over thin air and sent himself tumbling down the stairs.

Law stared, utterly flummoxed as the other teenager squawked and crashed down to the landing, papers scattering every which way as his backpack exploded on impact.  The crash understandably drew some attention; already a few boys had ascended the lower steps, peering up to see what had caused the commotion.  Another one came up behind Law, staring down the steps with a cry of, “The hell was that?!”

Law felt his heart pounding in his chest.  He knew what this looked like.  Were they going to accuse him?  Suggest he’d pushed the other student (without Law even getting the satisfaction of having done the deed!) and give Law a reputation for being a thug?  Even if that didn’t result in disciplinary action, his reputation would be ruined, no teacher would write him a recommendation letter for college, he’d have to change schools and then Dadan would get rid of him outright-

“Oh really, again?” the other boy sighed and slowly began descending the stairs. “Hey everyone, relax!  It’s just Cora-san!”

Cora-san?  What kind of title was that?  Law didn’t know people addressed each other like that in Dressrosa; he hadn’t heard such formal addresses since his brief stay at a home in Wano.  Then again, this was his first time in the same world that the rich and well-connected inhabited.  Maybe it was a class thing?  Or a kind of address that only certain members of the upper crust still used.  Regardless, Law was clearly under no suspicion if falling down the stairs was a normal occurrence for this idiot.  Well.  Maybe vengeance wasn’t necessary.  Hopefully natural selection would remove the bastard from Law’s periphery soon enough.  With that thought in mind, Law shuffled his way through the gathered crowd and hurried on to the cafeteria.  With any luck, he could get his meal and find a quiet spot to study at the edge of the room while he ate.

-n-

Natural selection, unfortunately, did not operate by Law’s timetable.  The final period of the day for him was gym; his least favorite class, for a number of good reasons.  He had to make a point of getting to the locker rooms later than his classmates, then spend ages slowly taking off his clothing if he wanted anything halfway resembling privacy while changing.  Usually if he was one of the last stragglers, he could sneak into the shower and shuck off his uniform fairly quickly.  He knew people at Silvers would latch onto anything that made someone stick out, and he had enough going against him without having to field questions like why he was choosing to wear full-length sweatpants even though it was still summer outside.  But being seen as nervous or unwilling to change clothing would also invite questioning; hence his need to carefully time his arrival in the locker room.  For the first couple weeks of school, this hadn’t been an issue; but today, it proved to be his downfall.

Law emerged from the locker room to see that most of his classmates were already off doing various things with their “gym buddy.”  Every member of the class needed to have a partner with them for all activities, whether it be trying to get a group together for soccer or simply having someone help you with a piecemeal yoga routine in the corner of the gym.  Apparently, this had originated as an idea from the principal that was supposed to encourage teenagers to motivate each other to be more physically fit.  All it really did was solidify the social divides between classmates by having people pick and choose from among their friends or well-connected peers.  Luckily for Law though, there were an odd number of students in the class, and the other students all already knew each other by virtue of having operated in the same social circles since they were in diapers.  Law was the odd one out, and the teacher had seemed content to leave him to his own devices.  Until today.

Today, the giant blond was standing to the side of the basketball court, hunched over an exasperated-looking gym instructor and shaking his head over and over.  The teacher eventually glanced across the room, and his eyes locked with Law’s. “Trafalgar!” he called out. “Come here for a minute, would ya?”

Law jogged over and prayed that the rest of his classmates would be too self-absorbed in their own little world to care about why the teacher wanted to speak to him. “What is it?”

“We’ve got a new student joining us today,” the teacher explained. “Normally it’s a little late for a transfer; but Donquixote here has been deemed a high enough fire risk to lose his place in the home economics course, and he still needs a P.E. credit before graduation.  You don’t have a buddy yet, right?”

Law wanted to pinch himself; surely this had to be some kind of nightmare!  Not only did he have to get saddled with some rich prick for a gym partner, it had to be a guy that had it out for him?!  And Donquixote…even though Law wasn’t anything close to well connected, he recognized that name.  It was tied to some kind of financial corporation, he was pretty sure.  Banking?  Foreign investments?  Oh, what the hell did it matter, Trafalgar was a nothing name and this kid’s family could probably donate a whole new wing to the school on a whim.  He couldn’t fight back openly; not without drawing down the ire of people who unfortunately held substantially more power than he did. “No, sir,” he reluctantly answered.

“Well, that works out great,” the teacher happily decided. “You two can pair up, then.  Don’t worry, it won’t affect much…” his voice trailed off as he looked at this Cora-san jerk again, and when he returned his attention to Law, there was something pitying in his look. “Well, as long as you try your hardest, the final grade will even out to a high pass, I’m sure!”

Law bristled.  What was that supposed to mean?!  He didn’t want a “high pass” from P.E. of all things, he needed that to be an easy-A to pad his GPA in the coming semesters!  But before he could ask the teacher for clarifications, a crash across the gym revealed that several boys who were playing basketball had accidentally slammed into one of the metal ball bins on the edge of the court.  The teacher ran off to investigate; leaving Law and Cora-san alone.

Cora-san looked like he was going to speak; unfortunately for his notions of rich-boy superiority, Law had a lot more to lose, meaning he had quite a bit to say himself. “Listen.  I know you’re not exactly thrilled to be stuck with me.  But we both need to pass this class, yeah?” Law demanded. “And as long as we do something with movement every day and walk a mile for the final, we’ll pass.  I’m going to start doing laps around the gym; you can join me or not.”  Without waiting for a reply, Law turned and started walking towards the gym bleachers.  He hadn’t been lying; the teacher didn’t seem to particularly care what any of the students did, so long as the admins passing by could look in and see them exercising.  Law preferred walking, using the repetitive motion of laps to help check out and mentally review the work he’d been doing in other classes that day-

Suddenly there was a thud behind him.  Law spun around, foot on the bottommost bleacher stair, to see that Cora-san had tripped over nothing and crashed into the wall by the lowest row of bleacher seats.  Already he was getting up and dusting himself off as a number of other students laughed or rolled their eyes.  Even the gym teacher didn’t seem particularly concerned; if anything, the pitying look on his face merely intensified as he glanced towards Law.  Was this…was this really such a normal thing?!

Law felt dread creep up inside him.  If so, passing gym class with his GPA intact was going to be a bigger challenge than previously expected.

-n-

That night, Law put aside his math and writing and history homework to focus on gym.  Specifically, to focus on how he was going to survive what he was increasingly certain was a toxic partner, sent directly to him from on high as a way to drive him out of Silvers Academy via unacceptably low GPA.  Failing gym was out of the question.  Withdrawing now would put him weeks behind his classmates in any other subject he tried to take.  That meant he had to stay put, and figure out the Cora-san problem.

The way he looked at it, he had two paths to success.  One involved dragging Cora-san across the finish line (potentially literally) so that they’d both receive high marks in class.  On a fundamental level, Law was disgusted by this choice.  It would just be another case of a rich asshole riding a poor kid’s coattails to victory; and from the way everyone reacted to Cora-san’s less than stellar hand-eye coordination, it would be more effort than Law wanted to expend for gym class.

Option two was a bit trickier.  It centered on a final goal of being without a partner again, which necessitated removing Cora-san from the gym class’ roster entirely.  If Cora-san really was as accident prone as Law had been led to believe, a simple tumble down the stairs might not do enough damage to get the job done.  The asshole had probably built up a tolerance to high-velocity physical impacts, with Law’s luck.  But there were other options.

For example…Dadan had plenty of medicine in her bathroom cabinet, for all manner of ailments.  Laxatives, for one thing.  If Law could figure out how to slip some of that into the asshole’s lunch, he might cause enough stomach trouble for Cora-san to miss gym class on a consistent basis.  There was a hard and fast upper threshold to how many class periods someone could miss before flunking was inevitable; Law might have this problem sorted before the semester was halfway over.  But then the question became: how to gain access to Cora-san’s food?

Chapter Text

If Corazon was sure of nothing else, he knew these two things were true.  First: he was sharing a lunch table with the hottest man he’d ever laid eyes on.  Second: his damn mouth couldn’t string together two words about it.

He should have expected this, really.  Things were suddenly going very well for Corazon as of late; curiously so.  Maybe he should have channeled a bit more of his elder brother and been suspicious of everything working out so nicely for him (as Doflamingo liked to say, there was no such thing as a free lunch).  But he’d always been a “little ball of positivity,” according to his mother, who was an excellent judge of character; and a positive attitude had always worked out quite well for him, from birth through his second year of high school.  Sure, he might have started his sophomore year out setting the home economics room on fire twice (the second time including the unfortunate loss of his apron), and yeah, upon being banned for life from the course he’d probably never learn how to scramble a cake or bake a chocolate egg, but none of that mattered!  Because all those missteps and tears and flames had led Corazon to transferring into his gym class.  And then he’d gotten partnered with him!  Trafalgar Law…his gym partner?  It was a dream come true; one that the Corazon of two weeks ago could hardly fathom. 

Law (oh what a name, what a nice name!) had captured his attention on the very first day of school.  Corazon had been cutting across the main garden path, hopscotching between buildings on his way from Physics to Writing II, when he’d caught sight of a gorgeous, lanky, tan man with dark hair and golden eyes shuffling along in the opposite direction, eyes glued to his schedule and lips pursed in concentration, fluffy white and black spotted hat bobbing along like a beacon in the crowd.  There had been a moment straight out of Corazon’s romance books then; one where time seemed to stop, and all sounds and sights fell away from Corazon’s world except this incredibly attractive man.  He’d stared, despite not knowing who this person was.  He’d stared, even if it meant he’d be seen as a creep because he literally couldn’t tear his eyes away.  And then he’d stopped staring because his feet had kept moving during this time and he’d toppled headfirst into the marble fountain of former Headmaster Whitebeard, dousing himself in sun-warmed water and startling the ducks that liked to call the fountain home.  So yeah, that was it.  Corazon was a goner.

Of course he’d decided to take the initiative; the universe had already put this incredibly attractive man in Corazon’s orbit, he couldn’t expect it to magically drop a date in his lap too!  So he…did a little reconnaissance, let’s say.  He made a point of keeping an eye out for this amazing specimen of man.  Taking a couple pictures of the guy’s messenger bag from a  distance, so he could zoom in and look for charms or merchandise from any show or comic attached to it.  Listening for anyone talking about a new kid in class that Corazon definitely did not recognize from middle school.  Maybe his family had recently moved to Dressrosa from overseas?  And eventually, this research was able to tell him a few things.

First off, the mystery man did not appear to have many friends, or much of a desire to socialize.  Rather strange, given that most students at Silvers viewed networking opportunities as half the benefit of being here (at least, according to Doflamingo and what he’d told Corazon before Corazon had started school here last year).  But Corazon couldn’t judge the mystery man too much for this, because if he wasn’t constantly surrounded by other people, then surely it would be easier for Corazon to gain access to him!

The second thing he deduced was that the mystery man had no interest in joining any clubs; at least in fall semester.  That made it somewhat harder for Corazon to find an excuse to talk with him.  Club dues were a non-existent hurdle to someone in his tax bracket, after all.  His name and bank account could have bought his way into any organization on campus, and once he attended a club meeting, his alleged mutual interest in the mystery man’s hobby would have been the perfect conversation opener!  Drat.

The third thing he learned was that the mystery man’s favorite place after school was the library.  Every day for a full week, Corazon watched him walk straight to the library when the final bell rang, weaving between towering shelves to settle at a table in the quiet study area, and then stay until the librarian closed the building three hours later.  He either researched things on his laptop (old and scratched up, but usable, apparently) or he wrote in his notebooks that were invariably sprawled in a semi-circle on the table before him.  There had been a couple times where he’d asked the librarian for a few minutes to finish downloading things because there were internet issues at home; maybe he really was a new move, and his family hadn’t yet gotten fiber properly installed at their estate?  Corazon wouldn’t know.  That’s because Corazon drew the line at following the mystery man home.  It would be easy to fib about how much attention Corazon had been giving him on campus, where they were both students.  But outside school?  He’d need to come up with a story under pressure.  And unlike his big brother…Corazon’s words didn’t exactly work well when he was stressed.

But the library was good enough!  And that was because of Bink’s Brew.  Yes, that Bink’s Brew; a coffee chain of international renown, founded by none other than a former graduate of Silvers from decades earlier.  Of course there was a branch on campus, offering specialty drinks that literally could not be found anywhere else on the planet (an incentive for the next generation of Silvers alumni to learn to innovate, the founder liked to say).  One afternoon, Corazon managed to work up the nerve to visit the cafe and buy two limited-run iced coffees.  During the whole walk to the library, he mentally rehearsed how things would go; he’d claim the barista had made the first drink wrong and gave it to him for free.  A nice gesture, but it was really far too much caffeine for one person.  But Corazon was planning to study late today so he’d taken it anyway, and he’d noticed the mystery man at the library all week, maybe he’d like the coffee?  Oh yes, you’re quite welcome!  My name is Corazon, and you are…?

Oh, it was the perfect plan.  Right until Corazon upended the drinks onto the library floor and sent the mystery man fleeing for his life.

Ok, so things hadn’t worked out on his first attempt.  No problem, there would be other opportunities!  He just needed to make the best out of a bad situation.  For example: some people might view being thrown out of home ec class as a net loss, particularly when it meant he had to transfer into one of the few mixed-level electives that still had openings, i.e. gym class.  Not great, you’d think.  And the whole reason that Corazon had to take gym as a sophomore was because his previous attempts in the course had been met with disaster after disaster.  An even worse turn of events, you’d think.  And you’d be wrong on both counts, because when Corazon met with the gym teacher that fateful afternoon, he found that he was sharing this class with the mystery man!  And he was no longer a mystery, his name was Trafalgar Law!  And they were going to be gym buddies?!  Oh, forget needing to come up with some excuse to talk with him or buy his way into Law’s space, now he and Law would be together every day!  So long as Corazon could make it to gym class without breaking his neck, anyway.

The day after his transfer, Corazon received his next bit of good luck in the cafeteria.  Rearranging his classes included his lunch period, and after getting his meal (urgh, shrimp risotto again?  The sushi bar needed to reopen, and soon) Corazon was tasked with finding a place to sit.  Normally Corazon sat with some of his fellow marching band kids, the same way he had done since he’d first started playing trumpet in middle school.  He wasn’t particularly close to any of them, but being part of their group was decidedly better than sitting at one of the big, round tables on the periphery of the cafeteria alone, surrounded by empty chairs.  Today, however, while he was searching for those familiar faces, he spotted an attractively shaggy mop of dark hair that made his heart do a weird little pitter-pat against his ribs.  Could this day get any better?!  Now that he’d changed his schedule, Corazon got to have lunch at the same time as Law!  

There he was, sitting in the far corner of the silver and red cafeteria, at a table all by himself.  Law’s chin was propped up on his hand, a textbook spread open in front of him, and he alternated between taking notes and taking bites of a steak and potato combo meal.  It was a relatively isolated space on the outermost ring of cafeteria tables, with nothing behind him but records of previous scholastic awards on the wall and the nearest table a good fifteen feet away, right by the windows that looked over the school’s private orchard and herb garden.  No one had taken the seat closest to him; or any seats at his table, for that matter.  Corazon needed to make his move, and fast, before the rest of the kids filed in.

Clamping his hands tight on his tray and tensing all of his muscles, he carefully weaved his way through the thin walkways between the lunch tables.  There were a couple of close calls.  Someone almost backed their chair directly into him, and his bottle of juice fell into his risotto (mercifully with the cap still on, though).  Twice the toes of his shoe scuffed against the mosaics on the floor and nearly sent him tumbling forward, but he persevered, until at last he was at Law’s table.  And then…then he froze up.  What should he do now?  Ask if the seat was open?  Set his tray down first and play it cool, try something like, “oh hey, I had no idea we had the same lunch, what a coincidence!”  Think, think, what would someone like Law want to hear?!

Before Corazon could figure that out, Law was glancing up at him, having just now realized another person was hovering by the table.  Dashing Corazon’s hopes, he neither smiled at Corazon’s approach nor immediately welcomed him to sit at the table.  Rather, his eyes narrowed and he asked, “Can I help you with something?”  

Well.  Corazon supposed that was fair, given that the last two times they’d been in the same general vicinity, Law had nearly had coffee spilled all over him and then had to scrape Corazon off the gym floor.  Not the strongest of impressions one might leave.  Corazon needed to redeem his reputation, immediately!  What would Doffy do? 

Well, obviously he’d slide into a chair with that smile of his that showed off good breeding and good oral hygiene.  Then he’d lean in across the table, taking full advantage of his height, and peer over the top of his designer sunglasses in that unnerving way that seemed to make girls and guys alike melt.  And then…then he’d say something super cool and suave.  Like, ‘hey baby, come here often’ or ‘aren’t you the prettiest thing in this place’ or ‘what a beautiful work of art you are, I’d love to admire you.’   

…oh.  That last one was good and true.  Perfect.  He could do that.  He could. 

Or maybe he could have if he hadn’t met Law’s eyes again, making his brain stutter to a stop, head filled with an annoyingly loud buzzing that drowned out all thoughts.  He set the tray down, a little too hard, and slid into his seat, nearly sliding right out the other side.  When he opened his mouth all that came out with a half-croaked, half-squeaked “eep” that did not do well at conveying anything he was trying to say.  He swallowed hard, sitting up straight in his chair and keeping his feet flat against the ground.  If he was planted firmly in place, not having to worry about walking would surely free up his brain power for more speaking!

“...”

Damn it words, work with him here!

“Oh sweet, this table’s still open!”

A third character in this tragedy now arrived; one that Corazon could recognize by face if not name from a summer party his mother had thrown to celebrate the re-opening of the country club’s pools and water features.  The interloper was a standard mix of tall, brunet, and built like he spent more time at the gym than studying.  In short, he was clearly competition to woo the hot guy Corazon was trying to win over!  Oh, and he was so loud and chatty, already talking about how impossible it was to find a seat, how he should have gone with a standard grill option because they never seasoned the hibachi right, and if Corazon didn’t do something right now Law’s attention was going to go to this nitwit!

The teenager was just about to pull out his chair and sit, when his eyes met Corazon’s.  There was a moment of hesitation as the newcomer took stock of Corazon, and realized exactly who else was sitting at the table.  Corazon did his best to imitate Doflamingo’s “negotiations are over” face, hardening his jaw and eyes and shaking his head, just once.  No.

“Oops!  I, uh, I see some of my friends over there, bye!”  And with that he snatched up his tray and scuttled off across the cafeteria, weaving his way through the ring of tables and darting out glass doors to the smattering of outdoor tables available to students.  Good.

A few seconds later Law glanced up from his book and looked around, like he was just now noticing the absence of the noise from that pesky intruder into their lunch time.  He frowned, and his attention suddenly landed on Corazon again. “Did something happen?”

Corazon quickly shook his head no.  Technically he hadn’t done anything; not even a mean word passed his lips!

Law stared at him for so long that Corazon started to sweat from it; but then something changed in his face. “They don’t like sitting with you, do they?”

Well…that wasn’t entirely correct!  More like, back when his big brother had still been here, Corazon had been worth far less social capital to sit with, and so if you had the choice of which Donquixote brother to sit with, obviously you’d pick Doflamingo!  And now that Doflamingo was off at college, presumably taking Mariejois by storm while Corazon stayed behind, a distant memory at best, there wasn’t much point in trying to cultivate a relationship with a known klutz and fire hazard.  But apparently the family reputation was enough to keep people away, so long as Corazon applied the right amount of pressure…

But that would take too much time (and too many words) to explain.  He settled for shrugging at Law, then reached out to open his juice without spilling it all over himself.  Success!

He tried to act occupied with his lunch for a few minutes, hoping that eventually Law would go back to his lunch and not kick him out of the table.  Eventually, he heard a soft “hmmph” followed by, “You can stay.  Just don’t spill anything on my homework.”

Oh, happy day!

-n-

Corazon wished to retract his earlier statement.  Today was not, in fact, a happy day.  Today sucked kung-fu dugong balls, actually.

No matter what sport they tried in gym class, he and Law were met with failure.  Corazon lacked the coordination for yoga and kept tumbling into walls.  Their brief foray into trying to pass a volleyball back and forth ended with Corazon being so enthusiastic to make a proper receive that he launched it directly into one of the lights overhead, shattering the glass and shutting down half the gym while the janitors cleaned up the broken glass.  And now they were in the bathroom, trying to get his nose to stop bleeding after a failed attempt to climb the bleacher stairs for walking ended with him face-planting directly into concrete and getting a bloody nose.

“Seriously, are you cursed?!” Law was grumbling over him. “And stop trying to tilt your head back, that’s an urban legend.  You’ll just throw up all the blood you swallowed, and it’s…” (here he checked the clock) “too late for you leaving class to matter.”

Matter to what, Corazon didn’t know or care.  All his attention was focused on the mortification of bleeding down his shirt in front of his crush.  Some good impression this was turning out to be.

“Is there anything else we can try?” Law grumbled as he handed Corazon a fresh wad of tissue. “This is a school of rich pricks; no offense.  But surely some of them didn’t feel like breaking a sweat.  Can’t we, I don’t know, play jacks?  Get credit for some kind of ‘skill’ game?”

To the best of Corazon’s knowledge, all the skill sports like pinball had been shut down with the new principle’s overall of the academy’s curriculum, and students hadn’t been allowed to “exercise their minds” with field trips to the Yagara or dog races for close to fifty years.  Gracious, where exactly had Law’s family transferred in from?  Wano?

The bell rang overhead, signaling the end of gym period.  Law sighed and stepped back, heading towards the lockers, presumably to get his clothing to change into.  “Give me a little while and I’ll figure something out.  We’re not failing gym class, of all things,” he swore.  He didn’t even look back at Corazon, like he was already trying to physically move past an obstacle.  Corazon hated that.  Obstacles weren’t attractive.  Obstacles didn’t get invited on dates, or get to buy presents for their boyfriends, or even get to hold hands together at the lunch table!

An ugly feeling of self-reproach swelled up within Corazon as he shuffled to his own locker and changed to go back to homeroom, persisting through the rest of the day and the final bell.  It occurred to him that he couldn’t leave things in this state, or Law might actually grow to hate him.  Frantic, he waded his way through the crowds of people to beeline for the library.  He had to fix this!  He had to!

Corazon found Law at his usual table at the far end of the room.  His clomping footsteps echoed off the brick walls and through the library, catching Law’s attention when Corazon was still three tables away.  Fuck, the massive windows that ran along this wall made Law glow in the beauty of the afternoon setting sun, and Corazon really had to focus not to lose his footing.  Law frowned at his approach, further cementing how important it was to fix things and fix them now. “What is it this time?”

Corazon stopped directly in front of Law.  He dropped his bag on the table, took a deep breath…and then frantically started typing on his phone.  Law was giving him a strange look, like he was planning to slip away, and Corazon barely finished typing before his hand found its way to the strap of his messenger bag.  Corazon shoved the phone in Law’s face, praying textual communication could fill in the gaps that verbal speech couldn’t. “I’m sorry about the coffee.  And the gym.  Let me pay for dry cleaning?”

Law took a suspiciously long time to read the message, as though doubting what he was seeing.  Had Corazon missed a typo?  But then Law was looking at him with slightly less murder in his eyes than earlier. “I already took care of my uniform,” he stated. “And I told you, I’ll figure something out for gym class.  Whatever’s going on with you in gym…you probably can’t help it, yeah?”

Corazon nodded.  He’d always been this way; whether it was natural or because he’d been dropped on his head as a baby, as Doflamingo liked to claim, was a mystery for the ages.  And being around Law’s overwhelming beauty had only exacerbated the issue; but that seemed like something Corazon was better off taking to his grave.

“So we’re fine.  And if that’s all you wanted, I need to study,” Law stated with a pointed gesture to his books. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

No, no!  That wasn’t good enough!  Thinking fast, Corazon took back his phone and swiped a new message across the screen. “I need to study too!  I’m getting coffee; let me buy you one?”

It was a gamble, particularly given the disaster of his previous attempt.  But Corazon didn’t want to leave when Law was still so clearly upset with him!  He had to fix this!  And money had always been a good solution to most problems in his life; but the only thing he could think to buy for Law right away was a drink and maybe some food for studying.  Would it work?  Or just make Law more upset?

“...I can’t pay you back,” Law flatly informed him.

Huh.  Maybe Law had already blown through his monthly allowance?  Corazon knew a few of his classmates were prone to doing similar things for accessories or phone games, leaving them stranded until the end of the month.  But if this was going to be a proper coffee date, of course Corazon couldn’t expect Law to repay him! “My treat,” he offered shyly, all but holding his breath as Law read the newest message.

“...all right.  But let me carry the drinks this time; ok?”

It was better than Corazon could possibly have hoped for.  He eagerly nodded as Law scooped up his bag, then gestured for Corazon to lead the way to the coffee shop.  He’d need to make note of what drink Law picked, and how he liked it made, and whether or not he wanted to have it again or try something new.  After all, once he memorized Law’s usual, it would be oh so very easy to bring him one every time they got together to study.  Not every day, of course.  Corazon needed to be casual.  The romantic leads in his books never ended up with the clingy types who had to be with them every minute of every day.  Play it cool.  Aloof.  He could do that, no problem.

Chapter Text

“This…this is the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.  I’m just…” Law turned the page, pressure building behind his eyes as he looked at the multi-colored scrawl that filled the entire page and yet somehow managed to contain nothing useful, with regards to school.  Half of what was written didn’t even seem to care to stay on any of the printed lines, twisting and curving all over the page in a clear affront to proper study organization.  Cora-san had said that this was his notebook for his chemistry, but absolutely nothing on the page gave that away.  In fact, none of the words Law could make out seemed to have anything to do with any class offered at the Academy.  It was all tangents about the weather, and birds, and…was that a description of how the caulking around one of the windows was peeling?! “What even is this?!” 

Cora-san slid his phone across the table with a sheepish smile.  “ A bunny rabbit.”

“...” 

Cora-san reached out and slid his finger across the page, highlighting the way his curving and off-kilter words formed the ears and face of a rabbit.  Law could hardly believe the lack of shame this alleged student was showing.  Was this supposed to be some kind of art piece?  A poor facsimile of a modern interpretation of an acrostic?!  It was with great effort that Law bit back the unkind words he wanted to level at his table mate, and instead reached for his iced coffee and took a long sip.  Let it go.  He wasn’t here to help Cora-san study, he was here for free food.

What Law had initially assumed to be a one-off apology drink had turned into a regular feature of his study period after school, three times a week.  Cora-san always got them each a coffee and snack from the ostentatious Bink’s Brew that was located on the edge of the campus.  Most Bink’s stores tried to emulate a bygone era of plush couches and chairs surrounding small tables, soft piano music from the turn of the last century playing overhead, and vintage artwork on canvas beneath stained-glass sconces surrounding you on all sides.  The one close to campus, however, was geared towards a distinctly youthful population who wouldn’t be caught dead in a cafe outdated by two weeks, never mind several decades.  As such, the Bink’s at Silvers was packed with industrial tables and chairs for guests working in groups on their computers, the lighting and decor reminiscent of a city skyline as slow-paced EDM played through the speakers across the two levels of the cafe slash student hub.  Needless to say, Law was all too happy to put in their orders and head back to the library as quickly as possible whenever they went.

Today, they’d arrived in time for Law to get the last piece of quiche in the cooler, whereas Cora-san opted for a pound cake slice.  Add in two iced coffees, and the pair of them would have enough fuel to keep going until the library shut down.  Law refused to look at the total at the register when Cora-san checked out; he wouldn’t be made to feel guilty over the rich boy providing him with hazard pay, considering their continuing gym fiascos.  He’d just be happy with a little more food in his stomach.

The stipend he received for meals in the Silvers cafeteria had to last the whole semester, making Law understandably cautious about paying for any of the more upscale offerings from specialty booths like the hibachi grill or “Mini-Mariejois cafe.”  And at home, Dadan might say she wanted him to eat his fill, of course there was more if he wanted seconds or thirds…but Law had seen what happened to older boys in his previous homes when they started eating as much as they actually wanted.  Suddenly the grocery bills went up and the pantry couldn’t stay full, and then there were fights and foster parents realizing they couldn’t provide enough anymore.  And then the kid wasn’t a good fit anymore.  And then the kid was gone.

So Law budgeted as carefully as possible to stretch out what he could get at school and ate only what Dadan put on his plate, and could now supplement those meals with an extra snack and drink after school.  Provided that he didn’t do something that would drive off this clumsy idiot.  Well.  So long as Cora-san could make himself financially useful, Law was willing to hold off on the laxatives plan.  Although…

A quick glance back to Cora-san revealed that the older teenager had taken out his highlighter and appeared to be highlighting the entirety of the page on alkaline compounds in his textbook, frowning all the while.  If he did this badly in his other courses, Cora-san might just flunk out before Law had to worry about the logistics of sneaking substances into his food.  Cora-san seemed to sense that Law was looking at him and lifted his eyes from the page to grin, wide and goofy.  Ugh, fucking idiot.  Then Corazon went back to his notebook and started writing with a green glitter pen, making…were those…were those cat ears and whiskers?!  This was what kids like Law had to compete against for a spot at Silvers?!

Oh, that was it.  Quiche be damned, Law couldn’t handle another second of this flagrant disregard for academia.

Reaching out, Law snatched up Cora-san’s notebook and promptly began to tear out each and every useless page of notes.  He balled them up tightly, and once the notebook had been thoroughly gutted, he grabbed the paper wad and purposefully shot it into a nearby trash can, under Cora-san’s wide, shocked gaze.  “Don’t look at me like that,” Law sharply rebuked him.  “That is exactly where they belong.”

Cora-san’s mouth worked silently, a little wheeze leaving him, before he fumbled with his phone and started typing. 

“Uh-uh!  No!” Law scolded, holding up his hand.  Cora-san dropped the phone and wilted.  “What’s your GPA?” 

With a pout, Cora-san typed a number and slid the phone over so Law could see the screen.  “ 2.7.”

Law wrinkled his nose and glared at Cora-san.  “Are you proud of that?” If Law had a GPA that low, he would have been kicked out right away.  Hell, if Law had a GPA anywhere in the 2’s that was likely only going to trend downward, he would have been kicked out.  Fucking rich boy privilege.  Law was not going to let this stand.  If Cora-san was going to cling to Law like a particularly robust foot fungus, he was going to put a little more work into his scholastic pursuits. 

Cora-san’s lower lip trembled, eyes glistening wetly as he looked at Law. “I’m sorry,” he typed.  And Law wasn’t sure how, but he even managed to make typing on his phone look pathetic.  It was almost enough to make Law feel bad for him.  Almost.

“Don’t apologize to me.  You need to apologize to yourself,” Law bluntly stated.  He took his chair and scooted it closer to Cora–san, flipping open one of his own notebooks.  Everything was color-coded, organized with clear dates and subject headers, and most importantly, was not in the shape of a rabbit.  There were sticky notes with additional information, bullet points, and the perfect amount of highlighting to point out important words and make it easier to skim the page for relevant information.  Teachers had complimented him on his note-taking skills.  A far cry from Cora-san’s useless disaster.  “See this?”  He tapped hard against the page.

Cora-san sniffled and nodded.

“These are good notes.  This is what you should strive for.  Do you see a bunny rabbit anywhere?”

Cora-san shook his head. 

“And here is the textbook I took notes from,” Law added as he slid his unmarked history book across the table, flipping it open to a random page. “Do you see the entire page highlighted?”

Again, Cora-san shook his head.  

“I want you to open that textbook of yours and start your notes from the very beginning,”  Law ordered, averting his eyes from the damp pout that Cora-san directed at him.  “You can use my notes as an example. And think about what you’re copying and highlighting, ok?  Look, you highlighted a whole paragraph about the guy who discovered multiple alkaline compounds.  Do you think that’s going to be on the test, or would the teacher rather ask something about the elements and compounds themselves?”

Law could see the lightbulb going off over Cora-san’s head.  Granted, the bulb in question was probably no stronger than the tiny ones kids put in easy bake ovens, but he’d take a win where he could.  “Think about what the instructor keeps circling back to in class, that’ll be where their test questions come from.  Understand?” 

“Why?”

“Why what?” Law asked, lifting a brow. 

“Why do you care?”

That made Law pause and he tilted his head thoughtfully.  “Because…there’s no reason you should have a GPA that low.  It’s not even the bare minimum.  You could and should do better than that,” Law concluded.  Sure, in the long run, Cora-san’s GPA probably wouldn’t matter.  People with families and connections like him always ended up winning at life even if they didn’t put any effort into it.  The dolt would probably get into his favored university without meeting any requirements beyond brand recognition, and then his parents would give him whatever job he wanted after he half-assed his way to a degree.  Why would Law care about someone like that?  It had to be the food, he decided.  So long as he could force Cora-san to keep studying with him, he had a guaranteed afternoon meal each day.  Yeah, that had to be it.

“Now tell me you understand what I’m asking for,”  Law demanded, trying to get the study session back on track.  Books were easier than thinking about why he cared so much. Much more straightforward, and less likely to cause him headaches in the long run. 

“I understand.” Cora-san offered him a teary smile, eyes brightening again.  He turned his attention to his book, selecting a particularly garish pink pen to start on his notes.  He reminded Law of a particularly over-eager puppy.  The kind with limbs too big and gangly for it, and only the loosest of notions as to where they were going and what they’d do when they arrived.

“Tch. And just know that if they suck again?  If you draw another bunny rabbit?  They will be going into the trash with the others,” (here he leaned in close to hiss into Corazon’s ear) “and you will have to start all over.”

Cora-san jumped at that, knocking his phone off of the table, followed by his entire, too-big body falling sideways off of the chair as he tried to catch it.  Oops. 

-n-

When the gym teacher called Cora-san and Law into his office after a particularly disastrous period, Law was certain that they were about to be failed right on the spot.  After all, there was only so much blood in Cora-san, and it seemed like at least half of it was already spread across the bleachers, the basketball court, and a badminton racket that Law was pretty sure the school would have to throw away.  This was it.  Despite weeks of effort on his part, he’d failed.  He’d never in his life gotten a bad grade.  Before the disaster in Flevance he’d always been at the top of his class, and even after, once he was finally able to resume schooling, he quickly ascended back to his previous position.  From there, at each and every school he attended as he was shuffled from foster home to foster home, he made it to the top again.  All for naught, it would seem.

The gym teacher shut the door to his office, interrupting Law’s spiraling thoughts.  He strolled across the room and sank into his chair, opposite from where Cora-san and Law were seated.  He looked at the pair of them and sighed, deep and from the heart. “Boys, I’m going to be honest with you.  At this point, not only do I think it’s impossible for you to pass gym this semester, but Donquixote here might actually die trying.”

There it was.  The words Law had been dreading hearing for the past month.  This was it.  He could kiss his perfect GPA goodbye.  Hell, he could bid farewell to the whole academy before his freshman year was even over.

“That said,” the teacher went on, “this is Donquixote’s second round of gym, and the results have only gotten exponentially more disastrous since last year.  With that in mind, I think it’s high time we start looking at alternative credit for you two.  How does that sound?”

Law was frozen in his seat at the suggestion.  Fortunately, Cora-san immediately jumped on the offer and nodded so frantically he nearly sent the bloody tissues stuffed up his nose flying.

“Perfect.  I’ve come up with several options.  The cafeteria needs people to help set up and tear down tables at the start and end of the day…but I’m a bit concerned about the risk of one or both of you getting crushed.”  Absolutely fair assessment. “Due to similar concerns, we had some hesitation about the potential of community service-”

(Law refused to consider the damage Corazon could cause if unleashed on the general public)

“-which brings us to suggestion three.  Professor Heracles wants to renovate the greenhouses for some of his agriculture students; get them freshened up in time for potential submissions to college programs next year, which means they need to be ready to go for spring semester.  It’ll be a lot of clearing old plants, upkeep of old shelves, things of that nature; but as long as you at least have a trowel in your hands when the admins come by, you can take it as slow and easy as you’d like.”

The room around Law seemed to spin, and he held tight to the arms of his chair so he didn’t tip out of it.  He’d been drowning in the midst of his own worries, and a lifeline had been thrown to him out of nowhere.  Though he was sure that the only reason he was receiving this offer was because of Cora-san and his family name, Law was still ready to get on his knees and kiss the feet of the gym teacher.  He didn’t care if it was pity or a desire to avoid pissing off one of the richest families at the school.  He didn't care that the teacher was probably only making him stick to Cora-san so the dolt had a minder to keep him from getting his head stuck in a peanut butter jar, literally or metaphorically.  He'd been granted an easy chance to pass gym without breaking a sweat.  Not to mention, if Law was careful enough about it, he might be able to sneak a notebook or two along with him and get some extra studying done.  There was just one more thing to sort, and this would be perfect.

“That sounds doable,” Law agreed. “But the greenhouses are halfway across campus.  What should we do about changing into our gym clothes?”

The teacher seemed relieved that Law had so readily agreed to his offer. “Well, we could either allot you boys a few extra minutes for travel between the lockers and the greenhouses, or we can write you passes to get changed in the bathrooms closer to the ag building.  Would that work?”

“Perfect,” Law agreed before Cora-san could even think to protest.  A way out of gym and the risk of people seeing him undress in the locker room?  Law would snap Cora-san’s neck before giving up an opportunity like that.  Presumably, Cora-san either sensed this determination or was as sick of tumbling into gym equipment as Law was of rescuing him from said tumbles, because he hurriedly nodded his agreement as well.  And that was that.

-n-

The next afternoon, Law used the heel of his loafers to draw a circle in the dirt around where Cora-san was crouched. “Ok.  This is your area of the greenhouse.  I have removed every bit of splintery wood, rusty wiring, loose glass, and potentially poisonous plants from the general vicinity.  Please, for the love of all things holy, try to stay in the safe circle as much as possible.  Ok?”

Cora-san pouted, looking very much like he wanted to protest the arrangement.  But they were both acutely aware that their presence in the greenhouse was entirely due to the sophomore’s personal failings, and so he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on.  He settled for nodding and picking up a trowel and poking at the dirt in front of him, where a few plants still remained.  Content that he probably wouldn’t immediately find some way to kill himself, Law turned around and started on the row of tomato hybrids beside him.

The greenhouse, a large, glass building with the stained glass emblem of the school right above the door, had been left alone since the end of spring semester last year.  The summer sun had turned the building into an oven, and all but the hardiest of plants had succumbed to the heat already.  Cora-san and Law had to clean out the dead plants, group the survivors as well as they could, and make sure the three tiers of shelves around them hadn’t fallen victim to rot, water damage, or termites.  It was definitely the kind of work that the groundskeepers should have been responsible for, and Law couldn’t shake the feeling that one of them had probably made the suggestion of this assignment to Professor Heracles, in the hopes of avoiding manual labor in the sweltering heat.  Well, no point in looking a gift Yagara in the teeth.  Law grabbed a tray of brown and withered stalks, then quickly upended a few of them into a nearby trash bag.  He’d already decided to keep it close by, and if any teacher chose to look in on them he could quickly add a few more husks to the sack, showing its half-full status as proof of work while he focused on his algebra for tomorrow’s quiz.

“Tch!”

Law nearly startled out of his skin.  It took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize the noise must have come from Cora-san; unusual, given that he was largely mute excepting squawks of terror when falling victim to gravity.  He spun around to see that Cora-san was holding a hand protectively against his chest; and when he tilted it up to better inspect it, Law could see a thin trail of blood.  Seriously?!

Law was about to snap, when he noticed that Cora-san was having a bit more overt reaction than what a simple scrape might normally call for.  A quick look around revealed that Cora-san’s trowel was on the shelf, looking remarkably bloodless, but there was a streak of red on the edge of a leaf on the plant closest to him.  Really, Cora-san?  Judging from the prickly shaft and diamond-shaped leaves, Cora-san had managed to scrape himself against Queen’s Creeper; nothing deadly, thank goodness, but his skin was going to start itching and burning shortly.  Which would probably lead to a trip to the nurse’s office, and the end of Law’s escape into the greenhouse.  Absolutely not.

Looking around, Law finally found what he was looking for in the far corner of the room: several small, cabbage-like specimens of Princess Bud the color of old pennies.  He rushed over and grabbed one, then hurried up to Cora-san before the fool could start panicking or run to the nurse’s office. “Hold still.  This’ll help.”

Using his fingernails, Law split open the plant and squeezed a dollop of thick sap directly onto Cora-san’s cut.  He could tell the medicinal effects were working when some of the tension slipped out of Cora-san’s shoulders. “There,” he pronounced, pleased with himself. “Give that a minute to set, then go wash your hands.  If it’s still burning when you get back, we’ll apply the rest.”  Cora-san nodded, soon proving himself capable of following directions even if he couldn’t quite swing self-preservation.  Law had a few blissful moments of peace when Cora-san left to wash up, which were tragically broken when Cora-san returned.  He didn’t immediately go back to his circle, however, and awkwardly hovered over Law with his phone in hand. “What?”

After several agonizing moments, the message Cora-san was typing appeared in front of Law’s face. “Thank you for helping me.  How’d you know to do that?”

How?  The actual answer was that several of the aid workers who’d looked after the orphaned children following the disaster in Flevance knew a fair amount about herbal remedies.  And quite a few of them had thought it would be useful to teach the orphans the difference between a plant that could ease a burn versus ones that would make you shit your pants for three days; understandable, given how desperately hungry some of the kids were becoming.  And Law had done his best to retain that information as well as he could, because there were no schools in the aid camp and listening to the workers talk was the closest he’d been to school in ages…right until they vanished, there one day and gone the next.  Older now, Law could realize that quite a lot of the relief funding for Flevance had been redirected to parts unknown and payments for many workers had dried up literally overnight.  But at the time, it had just been another case of adults vanishing without cause or warning.  A reminder never to rely on anyone besides yourself too much.

Like hell he was telling Cora-san any of that, though.  He merely shrugged and turned back to his own work, saying, “I’ve picked up a couple things here and there.  Don’t worry about it.”  And that should have been the end of it.  Except that a few seconds later Cora-san was tapping on his shoulder, and Law turned to glare at him.  “What?”

“That’s cool you know about plants.  Can you teach me?”

What?  What was this?  Cora-san couldn’t be bothered to care about his actual classes, but the minute Law expressed even a minimal amount of knowledge he wanted to study?!  The minds of the stupidly rich were an incomprehensible mystery.  One that Law was happy to leave untouched.  On the other hand, outright rejecting Cora-san’s request could make things difficult for them as partners moving forwards.  And what if Cora-san complained to the gym teacher that Law was being mean to him?

Well, there wasn’t any harm in sharing a few facts, Law supposed.  It might just be the ego of a rich kid demanding to compete with his peer.  And explaining things to someone else might help him refresh his own knowledge, if Law wanted to frame it as something that could benefit himself. “Fine, but I’m not an expert,” he warned. “So, the thing you cut yourself on is called Queen’s Creeper…”

The period was over before Law knew it, with his comments on the merits of domestic cultivation of herbs being interrupted by the bell.  Shoot, he’d need to run to get a stall to change into; otherwise he’d be waiting for the bathrooms to clear out completely as kids lazily made their way back to homeroom for afternoon announcements.  Cora-san, however, did not appear to share this same degree of urgency as he grabbed onto the cuff of Law’s pants and tugged, demanding his attention.  He was quick to type the message, as though he’d been rehearsing the line in his head. “Thanks for teaching me!  You’re really smart.”

Law prayed his cheeks weren’t as red as the heat in them made him think.  Compliments from teachers were expected, but from a fellow student?  Law was far more prepared to be ignored than praised. “It’s just rote memorization,” he deflected. “Anyone else could tell you the same things as me with enough time and effort.”

Cora-san took his phone back and typed a new message.  This one took a bit longer, and he started and restarted it several times before the final version was held up to Law. “Yeah but you’re the one who actually does it.  And you’re a really good teacher.  Like when you explained how the acidic soil here probably killed some of the plants before the heat did.”

Law stared at the phone.  He’d remembered that?  Cora-san, the guy who mixed up alkaloid and vocaloid?  How was that possible?!

Law took a minute to mentally step back and reassess things.  He’d only seen Cora-san’s notes for chemistry class, after all.  Maybe he was actually a pretty good student in other subjects and just had a really poor teacher in this one area?  Law could understand that.  A change in instructor had all too often been the difference between struggling and smooth sailing for him between schools.  Maybe there was hope for this klutz yet.  Provided he didn’t concuss himself too often going forwards.  For now, however… “Come on.  We’ve gotta get cleaned up before the library.  You’re coming today, right?”  This time, the answer was an eager nod.  Excellent.  Go to the cafe, then the library, and get their normal schedule back on track.  Don’t read too much into these developments.  After all, he and Cora-san were only going to be together through this semester.  Once they passed gym, Law would be back on his own.  Just get that far.  That’s all he had to do.

Chapter Text

“...and then he started telling me about how the over-the-counter-grade painkillers aren’t much more effective than the leaves, but cultivation is so costly you really couldn’t switch to a plant-based alternative at large scale…”

The driver nodded along as Corazon babbled, and for once Corazon didn’t care that the man probably wasn’t even listening and only pretended because he was on the payroll.  It didn’t matter, because Corazon had had such a fantastic day!

He’d spent weeks panicking that eventually he and Law were going to be split up in gym class, and then he’d only get to see Law at lunchtime!  But the teacher had come through and found a solution that would not only prevent Corazon from embarrassing himself in front of his crush, but also provide them with some alone time!  And Law had been so eager to agree to it that Corazon hadn’t even had time to voice his own approval.  That must count for something, right?

Corazon had really been worried that he was getting on Law’s nerves; especially after Law saw the sorry state of his chemistry notebook.  It wasn’t his fault though!  Chemistry just didn’t interest him all that much.  His mother always said he had a creative and fanciful soul that didn’t do well with the rigidity of organized, modern education.  His father smiled and agreed with his mother while occasionally hiring tutors to try and get Corazon’s grades up.  Nothing had really worked.  At least nothing had worked, until Law scolded him that first time in the library before throwing all his notes away and making him start again.  It had been a pain in the ass (and had cut into his time that was better spent admiring the way Law’s lips wrapped around his straw as he sipped at his drink), but it was helpful.  Corazon hadn’t struggled as much with the questions on the chemistry pop quiz that morning, and he wasn’t even the last one to turn it in this time.

Perhaps what he’d been missing this whole time was a teacher like Law.  A teacher with pretty gold eyes and a delightfully cute habit of nibbling on his lower lip when he was hunched over his notebook and thinking about what to write next.  And the way his whole face lit up while threatening to make Corazon redo his work was…memorable, and that’s all Corazon had to say about that until he was in the privacy of his own locked bedroom.  Oh, and not to mention the heroic way he’d nobly swept in to save Corazon in the greenhouse!

“Oh, oh, did I tell you about how he saved my life from an evil plant?” Corazon asked, lifting up his bandaged finger as proof.  Law had touched it and he was tempted to never, ever wash it again because that was practically like holding hands; but Law had very clearly told him to wash it with soap and water before rewrapping the digit tonight.  And Corazon was sure that somehow, someway, Law would know if he didn’t follow instructions.  “I don’t even know why there’s a plant like that in a campus greenhouse…that’s gotta be a liability…” 

A liability that maybe Corazon could use to his benefit, now that he thought about it.  Law hadn’t gotten rid of the Queen’s Creeper because he said it was a fairly expensive plant to try and domestically cultivate in this part of the world.  Plus given their luck, the specimen in question would have been some kind of even more expensive genetically modified abomination that the school would charge them for throwing out.  It had to stay in the greenhouse for now.  And as long as the plant was there, well, who would be surprised if clumsy ol’ Corazon bumped into it again?  It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all Corazon had to work with until he could figure out how to actually say a word to Law.  Which obviously would have to take up most of his study time in the foreseeable future.  Sorry, chemistry class.  Corazon had real problems to deal with.

-n-

“The view is lovely, but not as lovely as you.” 

There was a small table in the north kitchenette of the Donquixote manor, nestled right against a large, airy window that overlooked the garden.  Four chairs for four people could fit at the table (larger parties could use one of the dining rooms for meals, obviously), but currently Corazon was the only one sitting there.  He’d placed his uniform jacket on the back of the chair across from him, and several boxes of takeout were spread out across the table’s surface.  His driver had taken Corazon to get the food before dropping him off at the manor; once the after-school transit was complete, the driver took off for home with his usual promise to return and pick Corazon up for school the next morning, text if he needed anything before then, etc etc.  And since the housekeepers and groundskeepers had gone home ages ago, Corazon now had the house all to himself.

With his older brother away at college and his parents off doing good deeds halfway across the world, Corazon was left to fill the silent places of the manor by himself.  But that was fine; especially on a night like tonight.  The first step to talking with Law was rehearsing, he’d decided; and he’d rather avoid an audience for that, thank you very much.  There was going to be some trial and error here.  There was so much he wanted to say to Law and, while writing notes using his phone was a partial solution, it wasn’t exactly what Corazon wanted.  How could he properly flirt with a phone screen?!  Use lots of kissie emojis and a wink?  Like some terminally online NEET?!  A guy like Law would never fall for something like that.  He was so smart and so gorgeous, he probably received poems!  He deserved effort.  All Corazon could hope for was that with enough practice, he could get a few words out to Law.  A few good words that would make Law realize how perfect they’d be for each other. 

Sitting with his back straight, Corazon carefully forked a piece of chicken and held it out towards his jacket.  Almost all modern romance books and anime series that he watched had dinner scenes.  The couple would stare into each other’s eyes across the table, lean in a bit closer than necessary while their hands brushed against each other on the table, touches lingering.  Oftentimes that lead to kissing and then, depending on the content rating of the book or anime….well, ahem, that was nothing to think about now.  First thing first.

“Here, Law. Why don’t you try this?  It’s one of my favorites; and I’m sure someone with your taste will absolutely love it.” Doflamingo had used that once after bringing home a date for drinks at the family bar, and judging from how Corazon found the date’s bra shoved under a couch cushion the next morning, it must have been a successful line.   But Doflamingo also did this purr with his not-requests when he was trying to sweet talk someone, and when Corazon attempted to emulate it, he sounded more like he was trying not to cry.  The seductive smile didn’t quite work out either (he could just tell his eyes were doing something funny) and he somehow managed to bite the inner corner of his lip.  To add insult to injury, the piece of chicken fell off his fork and landed with a muted little thud on the tabletop. 

Corazon crinkled his nose and picked the chicken up, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  No, that wasn’t quite right.  Maybe a different approach would work better.

Silently apologizing to his etiquette teacher, Corazon propped his elbow up on the table and tried to act casual.  “You know, Law, I thought it was really cool when you saved my life.  I’ll forever be indebted to you so maybe…we could like…kiss and stuff.”  Corazon’s attempt to sweep his hair out of his eyes failed, the fork he’d forgotten he still held in his hand scraping across his nose and surprising him enough that he nearly tipped his chair over. 

Ugh!  No!  That wasn’t any good either!  Kiss and stuff?!   The word ‘stuff’ could imply a lot of things, and the last thing that Corazon wanted was for Law to think that he was a harlot.  Or for Law to think that Corazon thought Law was a harlot.  

“Hey Law, I think it’s neat that you know so much about plants and I’d like to spend more time with you.  Maybe we could go,” Corazon slipped his foot across the floor, towards the leg of the chair to brush his toes against it, “see a movie and…uhm…and…maybe hold hands?”  Law had such nice hands.  They were warm and his fingers were so slender and strong.  It was easy to imagine them entwined with his own fingers, Law’s palm against his palm, body close and warm, and oh hey, he did have two hands, maybe the other one could just slid on over and–

BANG!

Corazon’s foot jerked, slamming into the chair and sending it skittering across the floor.  It tipped over, taking his jacket with it.  Uuuuuuuuugh!  Dating was hard and complicated and he wasn’t even doing it yet.  He needed a better plan.  Maybe round back to the beginning and start things there.  Seduction and flirting wasn’t in his wheelhouse just yet.  He was pushing himself too far and too fast out of his desire to get closer to Law, when maybe he should settle on first being able to speak words out loud to Law.

Stepping out onto the back porch for a smoke (he’d need to hit up Nezumi for another pack, the guy was a rat fink of the highest caliber but at least he didn’t charge through the nose for buying cigarettes for high school kids), Corazon gave himself a moment to ponder.  Ok, he was at the metaphorical drawing board, what was the logical first step here?

Well, back in elementary school, Corazon’s third therapist had suggested that he write scripts to help with his selective mutism.  The idea was that if he planned out what he wanted to say in a common, every day scenario where he’d have to interact with someone outside of his family, it would be less stressful for him and he’d be able to overcome his little problem.  For instance, his first attempt had been writing out a script asking one of the servers in the cafeteria for extra mashed potatoes, please.  It hadn’t actually worked and he’d ended up crying so hard he threw up and had to be sent home early…but that was years and years ago.  He was an absolute mess of a person back then, not nearly as cool and composed as he was now. 

This time it could work.

Finishing his cigarette and leaving his takeout mess behind (a problem for tomorrow Corazon), he snatched his jacket off of the floor and scurried his way up the stairs to his bedroom.  A pile of stationary, pale cream in color with his initials in elegant script printed across the top in deep scarlet, was already resting in the center of his desk, surrounded by various colors of pens, including several fountain pens that he’d been gifted a couple of birthdays ago.  He’d spent most of the prior evening working on a letter to his parents, showcasing just how not useless his calligraphy lessons had been, suck it Doffy.  

Corazon set that half-written letter to the side, smoothed out the paper beneath it, and carefully picked out a pen.  The setting for this conversation would be the library, during one of their after school study sessions.  Law was always in a much better mood after they’d gotten their coffee and snacks, which made it the perfect time for Corazon to strike.  And he knew exactly what he wanted to say first. 

“I’m sorry,” Corazon narrated aloud, pen scratching against the paper. “I’m sorry that you got stuck with me in gym class and I’m really sorry that I nearly spilled coffee on you the first day in the library. I just think that you’re really cool and I wanted to talk to you, but I have trouble speaking so I thought a treat would break the ice.  But I guess I ended up spilling the ice instead.” 

It was risky to include a joke, even if it was hilarious.  Corazon had never seen Law laugh.  Not even when Corazon managed to trip over air and crumple himself onto the floor and everyone else around them laughed.  Not even that time Corazon had managed to run face first into the door of the cafe, fall flat on his ass, and get chocolate croissant all over his tie.  And while it was nice that his crush didn’t laugh at him like everyone else, it was still sad that Corazon had barely ever seen Law smile, let alone laugh.  Maybe this would solve that.  Just stick to the script and avoid eye contact.  Law’s eyes could be so distracting…

-n-

“Ok, that’s another pile of leaves for the compost heap,” Law announced as he walked back into the greenhouse. “Did you finish bagging up yours?”

Corazon nodded.

“Cool, if the teacher comes by we’ll make a show of taking it out,” Law decided, before sitting on the edge of a shelf that they’d cleaned up ages ago. “Not that anyone’s bothered to look in on us all month, we could be running a smuggling operation here and I doubt they’d care…shoot, pencil’s out.  You have any lead?”

Corazon was quick to dig through his bag and offer up the tiny container of refillable pencil lead for Law’s mechanical pencils. 

“Thanks,” Law murmured as he took two sticks and popped them into his pencil. “Prof. Gion wants a rough draft for our essays by the end of the week, but she grades easy on drafts.  If I slap something together now, that frees up more time to study for the algebra test…”

Corazon nodded in agreement, but Law’s pencil was already flying across the paper and it was highly likely he hadn’t even noticed.  Drat!  So much for Corazon’s brilliant script plan, he still hadn’t gotten two words out when it came to Law!  Well, at least Law didn’t seem to mind.  Their conversations were still painfully brief, but after a month of greenhouse time together they’d reached a point where Law mostly asked him questions that could be answered with either a nod, a shake of the head, or shrugged shoulders.  Some might call that an improvement in communication.  Corazon, on the other hand, was painfully aware that if that was the sum total of their abilities to talk with one another, it would take a very specific line of questioning to get to the point of being able to ask Law on a date.

Internally berating himself, Corazon decided that now was as good as any time to start cleaning out and organizing his backpack.  The semester had barely begun, but somehow the bottom of his bag was already covered in paper fragments, food wrappers, and miscellaneous bric-a-brac.  Well at least he’d managed to retrieve his ink pens before they were crushed under the weight of his textbooks this year…

He was just starting to repack everything when Law must have looked up, because the next thing Corazon knew he was being startled out of his seat by a loud exclamation of, “What the hell is that?!”

Corazon looked around the greenhouse, wondering if perhaps some wild animal or explosive device had suddenly manifested.  When no danger was immediately located, Corazon finally turned his focus to where Law was looking.  His eyes had landed on the half-crumpled pack of cigarettes that were mushed into Corazon’s things; whoops, he probably shouldn’t have those out where they were completely visible, an instructor might come by!  Corazon was about to lean in and pick them up, but Law was suddenly shoving himself into Corazon’s personal space; and he did not look anything close to calm. “Are those yours?!” he demanded. “You smoke?!”

Corazon could only nod.

“What the hell-do you have any idea how fucked up that is?!” Law demanded at a volume that was just shy of being a real scream. “You’re what, fifteen?!  Those things are toxic, you idiot!  Forget the fact that they’ll kill you long-term, death is a fucking mercy after the way it’ll rot your teeth and gums and give you COPD…”

As Law went on and on, Corazon found himself trying to shrink down in his seat as much as possible.  He never did well with people yelling, especially not at him, and the longer Law went on the more he wanted to just get up and run, go somewhere safe and quiet, what was he supposed to do when Doflamingo wasn’t here to beat up the person yelling at him?  

“...hey, are you…hey, look at me?”

Corazon didn’t.  He turned himself as much away from Law as he could in his seat and tucked up his hands and feet as close as he was able, and as soon as the bell rang he threw all of his things into his backpack with not a single care for organization and bolted from the greenhouse.  He was pretty sure he accidentally shoved Law in the process, and maybe on a different day he’d care because that was a terrible way to get your crush to like you, but it didn’t matter right now because Law was so, so very mad at Corazon.  And Corazon didn’t know what to do with that.

-n-

He texted the driver for a lift home and hid in one of the school’s bathrooms until the man arrived.  Law was probably already in the library studying, because this was one of their study days, but Corazon didn’t want to take any chances.  He raced through empty hallways to get to the street and hurried into the car without a look back at the building.  He didn’t care that he was probably going to get in trouble for skipping homeroom and he didn’t care that he and Law were going to miss their very first study session together, he just wanted to leave.

The driver kept looking back at Corazon, clearly surprised and concerned that the normally chatty passenger was so quiet, but Corazon fobbed him off with a line about being tired.  What had he done wrong?  Half the school smoked or vaped, and that was on the lesser end of things you could be into!  But Law had acted like Corazon was trying to murder a child when he saw the cigarettes…maybe Corazon should have tried to feel him out on that first.  Maybe they could have avoided a fight then.

Corazon felt tears welling up in his eyes and fought them down.  This wasn’t fair.  Why was it so hard to make even a single stupid friend?!  Maybe he should have gone along with Doflamingo’s suggestion to bring Corazon with him to Mariejois.  Granted, it had probably been made in jest and even if he had gone, Corazon likely would have been confined to one of the broom closets on the lower level of the penthouse…but at least in Mariejois he’d have his brother.  And what was the difference between not having friends here or there, really?

Maybe he’d call in sick to school tomorrow, take some time to rethink his plans with Law.  They had a few more months together in gym to get through, after all, and it was Corazon’s fault they were in this situation no matter how you looked at it.  Maybe…maybe being friends was too much, after all.  He needed to strategize on how to keep Law from getting angry at him.  Start there.  Yeah.  He could do that, maybe.  For tonight, however, some takeout and binging anime until 2 am sounded perfect.

Chapter Text

Once again, Law found himself wondering if his time at Silvers Academy was about to come to an abrupt and unwanted end because of some stupid rich prick.

In retrospect, it was stupid of him to fly off the handle like that over a pack of cigarettes.  Who cared if some jackass with more money than god wanted to smoke himself into an early grave? And he knew Cora-san had to be loaded, a little research in the library had revealed exactly how many corporations, products, and even entertainment industry bigwigs were connected to Donquixote family holdings.  So what if he got cancer, he had enough money for cutting edge treatments to buy his way out of it!  And frankly, rich people who took up risky hobbies were doing the world a favor by removing themselves from the planet that much sooner.  Unfortunately for Law, this particular rich boy had the potential to ruin his school life.

Law had spent the whole afternoon worried about Cora-san’s reaction in the greenhouse.  Even after yelling at Cora-san for his messy notebook, the teenager had bounced right back in their study session, and by the end of the day it was like Law had never even snapped at all.  But this time…Cora-san’s entire body language had been screaming that he wanted to get away from Law but didn’t know how (which, what?  Cora-san was easily a head taller than Law and much more built, if he’d wanted to leave that badly he could have just pushed Law away and walked off, right?  Right?).  And then he’d fled as soon as the bell rang and skipped their library session (not that it was scheduled or anything, obviously!  But Law had sort of, kind of, gotten used to having Cora-san in the library with him a few times a week).  And Law had spent so much time stressing about the potential fallout from their fight that he’d not gotten a bit of studying done.

Waiting for the bus to take him home, he’d worried about how this stupid little argument could impact his reputation at Silvers.  What if Cora-san tried to frame himself as an innocent victim of bullying?  What if everyone started considering Law a thug, a violent gutter rat who didn’t know how to behave around his “betters” in polite company?  What teacher would write him a recommendation letter for college if it meant incurring the ire of the Donquixote family?

He spent the night torn between cursing Cora-san for reacting so badly and cursing himself for bothering to speak up in the first place.  Law knew he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with; bouncing between homes as much as he’d done had taught him that there was no point in trying to develop deep or lasting relationships with classmates, presuming he could even find someone that he liked well enough to consider a friend.  Kids his age never kept up with you once you switched to a new school in a new city, particularly if you were someone like Law who lacked regular access to any kind of social media they could follow you on.  Comparatively speaking, Law had probably spent more time with Cora-san in these past few weeks than he had with previous classmates over the course of a whole school year.  Maybe that accounted for why he’d dropped his guard and given Cora-san his unfiltered opinion on smoking.  Stupid.  He should’ve been more vigilant.

“Well, nothing to do about it now,” he thought after tossing and turning in bed for ages.  He decided he’d go to class tomorrow and try to act normal.  Pretend nothing had ever happened and feign ignorance if anyone accused him of picking a fight with Cora-san the day before.  Hopefully the fact that he was so withdrawn and smaller than Cora-san would put those rumors to rest in short order.

-n-

Good news: the next day, no one paid him any more mind than usual.  He got through his morning classes just fine, had normal interactions with his teachers and non-interactions with the rest of his classmates, and didn’t find so much as a mean note taped to his locker.  The bad news?  Cora-san was nowhere to be seen.  

Law didn’t normally look for the giant blond on his way to and from class, so he couldn’t say for sure that it was unusual not to see Cora-san.  But on a day like this, where his tensions refused to completely diffuse?  It would have been nice to at least see Cora-san in the hallway and give him a little wave to imply everything was ok.

But then lunch rolled around and Cora-san very much did not come to their table; leaving Law to eat on his own.  Maybe Cora-san was sick today?  He’d been fine the day before, yeah, but sometimes sickness hit you completely out of left field and took you down in a matter of hours.  Also, it was Friday; maybe the rich dolt had decided to take a long weekend, or his family had impulsively decided to fly halfway across the planet for an impromptu vacation.  He’d heard other kids in class talk about doing things like that, especially when they had exams coming up and wanted to buy themselves a little more time to study.  It wasn’t out of the question for a less than stellar student like Cora-san.

And then it was time for gym class, and Law walked into the greenhouse to find Cora-san already in his gym clothes, hunched up in the little safety zone that Law had drawn out for him.  He glanced up when Law walked into the building, then immediately returned his focus to the notebook in his lap without even a nod of greeting.  He wasn’t sick, then.  He’d just avoided Law at lunch.  Shit.

Law drifted around the greenhouse for a little bit, moving plants and tools with no larger goal in mind than appearing to be occupied.  His few attempts to make small talk were met with an indifferent shrug from Cora-san, so he stopped trying after a while.  Fine.  If the rich boy wanted to pout and go all ‘woe is me,’ who was Law to stop him?  But then Law walked over to Cora-san’s space to collect a trowel (because straightening up the misplaced garden tools seemed a good idea) and Cora-san curled himself into a tighter ball and flinched.  And that was when it hit Law that this wasn’t an act, it wasn’t a temper tantrum, Cora-san was avoiding him because Cora-san was scared of him.

The outrage vanished like a candle being snuffed out, replaced by a heavy weight that sank straight to the pit of Law’s stomach.  Disgust with himself warred with anger at Cora-san.  How dare Cora-san act like Law was a threat to him, when Cora-san was bigger and wealthy and better connected, if he snapped his fingers and said the right words Law would be gone in a heartbeat, why did he get to be the victim here?!  But at the same time, Law understood what it was like to recognize a threat.  He’d been through enough homes with people who’d scream and kick and throw things at you if you didn’t watch your every move; and it only took one instance of it to teach kids whether you were a danger or not.  He didn’t want to be that kind of person.  He didn’t want anyone at Silvers to see him like that.  Particularly the one kid who’d tried to do him a kindness every now and again.  Fuck.  He needed to fix this, before the damage got any worse.

Stepping back slightly, Law sat down on a nearby shelf and tried to look casual, even as he carefully calculated every movement and word. “Hey.  I’m sorry about yesterday.  Smoking’s just…I know people who’ve died,” he vaguely stated.  And it was true, although Law definitely meant death from smoke inhalation and not cigarette smoke specifically, but this rich brat didn’t need to hear the whole saga of his days after the Flevance disaster.  Let him draw his own conclusions.  “I overreacted,” Law stated, because he’d probably get farther if Cora-san perceived contrition and Law being willing to place blame on himself. “I won’t do it again.”  Shit, what else, what else… “I missed you at the library yesterday,” he finally got out, because rich people like Cora-san loved to know that people wanted them around; it was like social perception was the one thing that validated their existence, so implying that Cora-san needed to be around him was probably worth more than the apology itself, yeah? “Can you come today?”

It worked.  Cora-san finally looked up at him, staring, and then quickly nodded.  Perfect, the apology was accepted!

“Great.  And…I won’t mention the smoking again, promise.  Just be careful around school, ok?  If the teachers catch you with those, or…”  Frowning as a new thought occurred to him, Law leaned in to Corazon’s space and sniffed.  He couldn’t smell any cigarette smoke on him, and no hint of air freshener or spray-on deodorant to try and cover up the scent of smoke.  Maybe Cora-san was smart enough not to smoke on campus, then; or at least waited until after school, before sending off his uniform to be dry-cleaned by handmaids or laundry gnomes or whatever kind of service rich people employed.

Cora-san yelped, there was a creak of wood, and then he was on the ground in a heap.  He was practically upside-down, body a messy tangle of limbs and red-faced like Law had never seen.  What happened?!

“Are you ok?” Law quickly leaned over and began his inspection at the creaking shelf.  Well the wood was bowing a bit but hadn’t broken; perhaps Cora-san had felt a splintering beneath him and overbalanced in an effort to move himself?  But he hadn’t even been sitting there, just leaning against it…

Cora-san quickly waved off his concerns; then, smiling slightly, pointed to the circle in the dirt around him.  Specifically, he indicated a spot where his foot had smudged through the line, thereby breaking out of the safety circle.  Urgh, this dolt.  That was something a cutesy mascot character would do to make the audience want to squish their stupid cheeks and call them adorable.  Who did this guy think he was?!

“Go get washed up,” Law directed before he did something stupid like actually squish those cheeks. “And I’m going to redraw your circle, ok?”  He sighed inwardly as Cora-san scuttled off to the utility sink behind the greenhouse.  It was amazing how much damage some people could endure and still come out smiling.  Probably a lesson in human resilience there, if Law cared to think about it.  Instead, he focused and redrawing the circle and moving on to the next phase of his plan.

-n-

Law was determined to make sure that things went back to normal between him and Cora-san with no hard feelings.  Before they left the greenhouse at the end of the period, he’d warned Cora-san he’d be a little late to the library, but go ahead and sit at their normal table.  Then, once the final bell rang and homeroom was dismissed, he gathered up his books, took the little bit of pocket money that Dadan could afford to give him every month, and headed towards the cafe.  Every time they studied together in the library, Cora-san bought them snacks.  He let Law get whatever he wanted and loaded himself up with cake pops and cookies and other sweets that he then insisted on sharing.  Law couldn’t do that.  His funds were limited, and he tried to save the money he did get for school supplies so he didn’t have to keep asking Dadan to replace his pencils and notebooks.  Scrimping and saving like that meant that today, he had enough to get something colorful and fruity on the limited run drink menu which Cora-san would probably like, a chocolate croissant for Cora-san, and the cheapest drip coffee available for himself.  There.  Financial compensation with a clear desire to put Cora-san’s wants and desires over his own.  In the world of Silvers, money spoke louder than words; now the apology would be accompanied by a desire to make amends.

He arrived at the library, treats in hand, to find Cora-san already sitting at their usual spot.  Law set the coffees and snack in the middle of the table.  “Here.  Food’s on me today.”

“...?”

“You always pay for us,” Law explained. “I figured it was time for me to return the favor.”  A believable enough lie, really.  And so long as Law didn’t have to pay all the time, he could even keep it up for a little while.

Cora-san looked between the snacks and Law, over and over.  He seemed confused, and maybe a bit concerned, but definitely not happy.  Shit, had Law overplayed his hand here?  Gone too far to make amends, and Cora-san would see right through the scheme?

Finally Cora-san picked up his phone and began typing.  It took a while, and he slid the phone towards Law once before abruptly retracting it and adding a little more to the message, before finally showing it properly. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to buy anything.  I’m happy to get us snacks because you help me with school.  Plus my parents gave me an allowance for spending time with friends, and this is the first chance I’ve had to use it.”

First chance to use it?  That…that didn’t make sense.  Cora-san was part of the Donquixote family.  He should be surrounded by people dying for his attention and resources, right?  He was the kind of person who should be constantly calling his parents and asking for even more allowance because he couldn’t keep up with all the people schmoozing up to him for favors and gifts!  Unless…was Cora-san…

Was it so dangerous to owe the Donquixote family that no one dared to take any gifts from one of them?  Maybe that was actually how the family had amassed and maintained their power over the years; by slowly accumulating favors and finances owed to them and calling in payback with interest at just the right time.  Well.  If Cora-san expected anything to be paid back in the future, he was out of luck.  Law was going to become a cardiothoracic surgeon, so the most Cora-san would ever get out of him would be a pile of advice on what to do to keep from dying prematurely of a heart attack.  And surely once Cora-san realized Law wasn’t the kind of doctor who’d tell him whatever he wanted to hear, he’d find a different physician.  With that in mind… “Thanks, then.  Your treat next time.”  Finally, Cora-san smiled and nodded.  Excellent.  Crisis averted.  It was almost worth the hit to Law’s personal finances.

-n-

Midterms were not even two weeks away now, and Cora-san was late to their study session.  Law knew that Cora-san was coming today, he’d typed as much on his phone in gym.  And Cora-san was clumsy and scholastically challenged and quite probably mute, but he’d yet to show himself to be a liar.  So what had happened?

Law was tempted to ignore the matter and focus on his own work.  He’d do all right in biology and algebra as it stood, but it would be obnoxious if he started studying either subject and was interrupted by Cora-san’s late entry and insistence on getting food and drink past their usual pickup time.  There might be a crowd then, and the librarian might think they were leaving outright and lock up early…no, any change to their normal routine would be disastrous for Law’s grades.  Sighing, he shut his book and rose from his seat.  He might as well save himself the trouble and find the fool now.  Plus, considering it was Cora-san, there was a non-zero chance that he might have fallen down a well somewhere and was now in danger of asphyxiation or starving to death.  Ugh, honestly.  How did that idiot even survive before Law came along?

Hiking his bag back onto his shoulder with a sigh, Law left the library and headed in the general direction he always saw Cora-san go after gym.  Tch, making him go out of his way like this…Cora-san was going to have to work extra hard on his notes during this study session.  The color coding alone would make his head spin.  And if there was so much as a single punctuation mark out of place, Law was going to make him revise his notes until he cried.

Law’s path eventually led him to the fine arts building, making him raise a brow.  What could Cora-san possibly be doing over here?  Surely he wasn’t allowed around any of the art supplies, and the dangers posed by a raised stage in the theater to a kid that clumsy didn’t bear thinking about.  Actually…Law vaguely recalled Cora-san mentioning something about band class.  Maybe he’d forgotten something here earlier and was having trouble locating it?  It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look.

He walked down the halls until he reached a door, beyond which he could hear muffled flute and oboe sounds.  Opening the door invited a few other instruments to join the cacophony in the disjointed non-harmony that came with students warming up before practice proper.  The hallways here were painted in muted gold, and covered in soundproof padding for the sake of the other rooms around them.  Teenagers with instrument cases were walking to and fro, clearly gathering up their things before practice and ignoring Law entirely.  To the left was a small hallway with a sign that indicated private practice rooms were that way, its walls covered in awards for recital performances around the country for concert band.  To the right, Law could see chairs filling an open space for orchestral practice, with shelves for backpacks, instruments, and band supplies wrapping around the rear walls of the semi-soundproof room.  Cora-san was on the far side of this room, currently with his back flush to a wall as two students spoke to him.  Judging from their posture, they were rather unhappy with Cora-san; and from the look on his face, Cora-san wasn’t all that happy either.  Frowning, Law stepped forwards and let the door shut behind him.

“Look, we get it, you can play the piece just fine and all you have to do is stand perfectly still once we’re on the field, but you still have to show up to practice!” the taller of the two strangers (blond, gangly, in possession of a terrible bowl-cut) demanded.

“Yeah!  And it’s great that you’re here two days already, but the expectation for the brass section has always been three days per week,” the other kid (shorter, pink hair, also in possession of a terrible bowl-cut) asserted. “You never had trouble showing up to every practice last year, so what changed?!”

“Uh…uh…”

Cora-san was clearly floundering.  Little wonder, given that these two asshats not only had him pinned to the wall, but were demanding a verbal response from a mute kid.  Who the hell did that?!  And suddenly, a lot of things fell into place all at once.  Cora-san not spending money on friends.  Kids avoiding him at lunch.  His over-the-top response to Law’s scolding.  Obviously, all the money in the world couldn’t change that Cora-san was a clumsy, nonverbal, band geek.  Clearly, that would lead to him being a victim of bullying.

Well unfortunately for these rich pricks, Law didn’t particularly care about their social standing, given that even on the best of days he had zero patience for bullies.  They were harassing an innocent dork.  Moreover, they were an obstacle to Law’s studying for midterms, and would be resolved as such. 

There were many things that Law was not.  He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t particularly charming, he wasn’t friendly, and he definitely was not a pushover.  He’d been told by his case worker more than once that he needed to work on improving at least some of these flaws, or no one would ever want to adopt him.  He’d never listened, given that there were several other reasons, quite obvious to him, why he’d never have a forever home until he was grown up and on his own. Sometimes he wondered if he was being a bit stubborn in his refusal; but then there were times like this where those character flaws worked out to his benefit, such as now as he stomped towards Cora-san and his tormentors.

“Wha-” The blond one looked up first at the sound of the approaching footsteps, eyes fixing on Law and his brow furrowing.  When it was clear that he didn’t recognize Law, he straightened up and attempted to look down his nose at the newcomer. “You don’t–” 

“Shoo!” Law barked sharply, flicking his hand dismissively towards him.  He knew how to deal with spoiled brats like these.  They’d gone their entire lives without getting so much as a hint of pushback.  As a result, when someone not only refused to give way to their demands, but actively challenged their actions, it was quite easy to take them by surprise and gain the advantage. “Get away from him.” 

Blond Bowl-Cut puffed up at that, pointing at Law with one boney finger and frowning. “Now I don’t know who you think you are, but this is none of your business!”

“None of my business?” Law scoffed.  At his arrival they’d backed far enough away from Cora-san to create an opening for Law to slip up and snatch Cora-san’s wrist, yanking him away from the wall and further away from them. “How stupid can you be?  Check your calendar, idiot.  Midterms are almost here, and yet you’re holding my…” 

What the fuck was Cora-san to him?  His pet?  Acquaintance?  Meal ticket?  Definitely not his friend.  Nope.  Absolutely not. “Pupil!” he finally decided. “Holding my pupil hostage!” 

“Pupil?” Pink Bowl-Cut glanced between Law and Cora-san, lifting his brows upwards in question.

Unfortunately for him, Cora-san’s full attention was on Law, his big, stupid doe eyes shining as he stared at his rescuer in clear awe.  Ugh.  Could he kill the doting cartoon sidekick schtick, he was too big to be acting that cutesy!  

“Yeah.  Pupil,”  Law repeated.  He lifted his chin and glared at the bowl-cut brothers with as much ferocity as he could find inside of himself to muster concerning Cora-san’s honor.  And apparently it was more than enough, because the Bowl Cut Brothers shrank back from him.  “I’m tutoring him.  There a problem?” 

“It’s just th–” 

“Do you want him to flunk out of band?”  Law demanded, cutting off Blond Bowl-Cut before he could try to justify his bullying.  “Because if he doesn’t do well on his midterms he’ll be on academic probation which means no more…whatever instrument he plays.” 

“Trumpet,”  Pink Bowl-Cut offered helpfully. 

“No trumpet!  Which I assume is important.  So we’ll be going now; and you better not make him late to his study sessions again.” Law tightened his grip on Cora-san, then started walking back towards the band room door as he yanked him along. 

“But–”

“Can’t hear you, we’re gone,” Law called back over his shoulder as they walked out of the band room and let the door shut behind him.  Fortunately, the other two boys seemed to have gotten the hint, and let them go.  Finally.  Now Law could try to get their afternoon back on track.

He stomped down the hallway, Cora-san stumbling behind him and struggling to keep up, until they emerged from the fine arts building and into the cool air of the late afternoon.  Once he was sure they hadn’t been followed, Law dropped Cora-san’s hand with a huff.  “Those fuckers,” he grumbled, eyeing Cora-san carefully.  It didn’t look like they had done anything to him beyond intimidation, and he seemed to have already gotten over that, judging from the way he was smiling at Law like a particularly dopey cartoon dog.  Good.  Searching for Cora-san had already eaten into enough of his study time; if he had to doctor him too, that would take up even more of the limited hours he had left in the library today.  Law was already starting to feel an anxious squirm in the pit of his stomach, desperately wanting to get back to the safety of his study table and his notes and away from what had just happened. 

“Tch.”  Law turned away from Cora-san and made a show of checking the clock posted above the door.  It wasn’t that he had done what he’d done because it was Cora-san.  He just hated bullies. The last thing he needed was Cora-san reading too much into that.  “Finding you and getting you away from those walking beauty school rejects took so long, I don’t think we have time to run to the cafe and get our snacks.”

Cora-san’s shadow fell across him and there came a light tug at the sleeve of his uniform jacket.  “Hm?” Law asked, craning his head back to look up at Cora-san.

Pressing his lips together, Cora-san typed out a note quickly on his phone and held it out to Law.  “Cafe as a thank you for helping me, please? You get our table, I’ll grab food.  Large cappuccino for you, whole milk no flavor, and a slice of quiche but if they’re out you want a breakfast burrito.  No bread.”  He’d also included several pleading hands emojis to stress his point, and he somehow managed to make his eyes even bigger and poutier as he looked down at Law.  

Law could hardly believe what he was seeing.  Cora-san…knew his order by heart?  And not just the order but what he’d want if the first choice wasn’t available?  And how did he know about the bread thing?!

Oh damn it, Law was getting distracted again and he really couldn’t afford more time out of the study session.  He’d worry about Cora-san’s weird level of interest in his coffee orders later.  For right now, it was easy enough to agree to the suggestion and let Cora-san scuttle off towards the cafe.  Law needed a minute of alone time, anyway.  And if Cora-san had to faceplant into piping hot coffee for that to happen, it was a risk Law was willing to take.

-n-

It was late and Law was tired.  The pillow under his head was so soft, the cool fabric of the pillowcase comforting against his chin where it was propped up.  The only light came from the small lamp on his nightstand, illuminating the notebook he was absently flipping through on the bed.  His schedule allowed thirty more minutes of study time before bedtime, and he was not about to give that up.  Every minute counted, every additional second had to be used to snatch up as much information as he could manage.  It was just the way that things had to be for him.  It wasn’t that he wanted to be top of the class out of a misplaced sense of pride or accomplishment.  This wasn’t vanity or ego, it was survival.  Even attending such a prestigious school as Silvers Academy, he knew that college wasn’t necessarily guaranteed to him.  He needed immaculate grades if he wanted a full-ride at his choice schools, not just whatever mid-tier institutions would hand over funding to charity cases like him.  Merit-based funding was targeted at people who didn’t have substantial parental income, yes, but he still had to prove his scholastic worth.  Unlike some people he could name. 

Law was willing to wager his entire secret stash of emergency funds that Cora-san didn’t have to worry about things like that.  Someone from the Donquixote family was certain to get a spot at whatever university he wanted, regardless of scholastic merit.  And Cora-san definitely didn’t have to worry about how he would pay for it.  With all those particulars automatically taken care of by nature of his family ties, Cora-san was probably dead asleep right now, snoring (because obviously he’d snore) and spread out on a king-sized bed in his fucking mansion with not a single glum thought polluting his dreams.  He probably even had an army of maids to monitor that the bedroom’s temperature was ideal for a full night’s sleep, and he’d only need to ring a bell to get whatever he wanted brought in on the double…

Enough.  Law had read the same page of notes three times without retaining anything, and the last thing he wanted was for Cora-san to intrude on his private time after all the trouble he’d caused Law today.  He needed to decompress.  Unwind.  Let out a little tension.

Cautiously, Law crept out of bed and to the door of his bedroom.  He opened it just a crack and peered out, confirming that the light in Dadan’s bedroom was out.  That, coupled with the low roar of her snoring, convinced him that she was dead to the world and wouldn’t awaken until morning.  Perfect.  He quietly shut and locked the bedroom door, then got out his laptop and set it on his bed.

The computer itself was a gift from Dadan upon his admission to Silvers.  Law’s scholarship technically covered a laptop, but the fine print indicated that it would be a school-issued computer, expected to be returned to the academy at the end of Law’s time there.  And so Dadan had taken him to the pawn shop she helped manage and had him look through their laptops, because in her own words she had no idea what system requirements he’d need, but she’d be damned if they weren’t going to be met.  Law had started with the cheapest option and worked his way up until he found one that was small enough to go to and from school with him and new enough to run without crashing or failing to boot the latest in Vegatech software.  It was the nicest thing he’d owned in years.  It was, to the best of his knowledge, the most expensive thing anyone had ever purchased for him, period.

And so, out of respect for the worth and value of such a gift, Law had waited nearly a whole month before he started downloading porn onto it.

Obviously he wasn’t stupid enough to download anything at school, and Dadan didn’t have internet at their house because she’d always said the library down the road was good enough for whatever she needed.  There was a not-insubstantial portion of Dressrosa’s population that hadn’t quite adapted to the modern age, and most of Dadan’s friends still needed time to warm up to the notion of cell phones and apps.  Left with little other choice, Law had done what any cautious teenager might do in his shoes: he’d gone for a walk around town until he’d found a hotel that was stupid enough to have their wifi password written on a sign in the front lobby, visible from the door.  Law had snuck in amidst the morning chaos that came with families and small children shoving their way to the lobby for a continental breakfast, then wedged himself in a small corner and rapidly downloaded a smattering of videos with thumbnails and descriptions that sounded even halfway appealing, his heart racing a mile a minute.  And then he’d disappeared when the breakfast rush subsided and silently vowed never to return to that particular institution.  And that was it.  Law had a porn collection.

Obviously, not all the videos had panned out, and even the ones he liked were going to get stale eventually.  But for now, he had a few favorites that were plenty reliable to help him relax on nights like this.  He double-checked that the door was locked, then triple checked that he’d lowered the sound on his laptop, before finally taking off his boxers and crawling back under the covers.  Only then did he open the hidden folder that he prayed every day Dadan would never find, looking through the selections before finally settling on, “Needy Twink Nailed by Hiking Daddy.”

Law was gay.  He’d figured that out years ago, when he’d seen two men kissing as they exited a restaurant and realized it made his heart flutter in ways seeing girls flirting or posing sexily never did.  He’d yet to tell Dadan, and based on the content of the awkward sex talk she’d given him last year, she’d yet to figure it out.  He didn’t get the feeling she necessarily had a problem with gay people…but it didn’t pay to take risks and find out the hard way.  Let her continue to think the reason Law never brought home a girlfriend was because he was too focused on studying. 

The video loaded, and Law quickly skipped through the poorly acted setup; something about a hiking club, someone forgetting a tent so he’d need to share, whatever.  Skip, skip…there.

Law reached down and started stroking himself as the two men onscreen began undressing one another.  He loved the anticipation building up, the way the bigger, older man pushed his partner onto his back and warned him to be quiet, unless they wanted the whole camp to hear.  Law’s hand sped up as they tossed away the last of their clothing, falling onto the sleeping bag and coming together in a sloppy kiss.  He skipped ahead again, and once he got to the next part his other hand slid up his chest to start tugging at his nipples.  He’d recently figured out how good that could feel, especially while watching the twink in the video get his chest played with by his partner.  Fuck, like this Law could almost pretend that he was the one getting that kind of attention, having someone twist and tug at his nipples while he jerked himself off. 

Suddenly the older man was picking his partner up and turning him over, pressing his face into the sleeping bag and making sure the camera had a good view of his ass.  He squeezed and smacked the meat of those cheeks, making Law wonder what that might feel like, to have your partner hold you down and toy with you like that, knowing you were on display for the whole world to see, when all you could do was moan and hump the air.  And then the older man pulled apart the twink’s asscheeks and exposed his hole for the camera, promising to give his partner the fucking he was clearly asking for, yes, yes-!

Law shocked himself at how quickly he got off.  It must have been too long since the last time, he decided; normally he at least needed to get to the part where the “daddy” was stuffing his shirt into the twink’s mouth to make him be quiet.  But at least now he felt more relaxed; and he’d been able to give his attention to something besides school for a minute.  Yeah.  This was exactly what he’d needed.  Now to get a couple tissues and clean up.

Chapter Text

“All right, that’s enough for today,” the band teacher announced. “Keep practicing for next week. Our first competition is coming up sooner than you think, and all of you need to be diligent about getting your parts nailed down!”

“He’s talking to us,” Helmeppo groused. “All because someone keeps skipping practice!”

“Seriously Corazon, why didn’t you tell us you were having trouble with your classes?” Koby asked as he packed his trombone. “We could have made a study group and worked together before it got to this point!”

“Agreed,” Helmeppo stated as he packed his own trombone. “Like, trust me, I get it, my dad would fuckin’ murder me if he thought I was gonna fail out. But your tutor is…intense.”

“More like terrifying,” Koby corrected. 

Corazon shrugged as his trumpet was put away. “Law cares about school,” he reasoned. His fellow brass section members continued to scold him, but he didn’t care because he and Law had finally taken the next step!

Law had come looking for Corazon, instead of the other way around! And he’d touched Corazon of his own free will, and trusted Corazon to get them their food, and even told him that he better show up on time in the library from now on, because Law expected him to be there! Corazon was on cloud nine. His feet hardly seemed to touch the ground these days (well, even more so than usual, given how often he ended up tumbled upside-down), but he’d never been happier! Law was acting like a real friend. Who needed words when silence got him rewards like this! Maybe Corazon should give up on the speech angle and just let Law do the talking for both of them, forever!

…actually, Corazon kind of wanted the ability to at least propose to Law and say their wedding vows. So he had to get comfortable enough with Law to be able to speak with him. Clearly the library study sessions were going well, and clearly Law felt at least some form of attachment to him. Corazon could therefore move onto the next stage of the operation: spending time together outside of school!

Law was laser-focused on midterms right now, and would be through the end of the week. After that, however, there would be a brief lull in schoolwork that would grant Corazon a window to invite him out for something. The question was, what event or activity would be the perfect introduction to the concept of spending time together outside of school? A movie, maybe? No no, they would be in the same room but socializing in the middle of a crowded theater was understandably frowned upon. Mini-golf might have worked, had Corazon not gotten banned from the best course in Dressrosa after the…incident. A lot of his novels liked to use aquariums as a setting for dates, but that might be too forward. 

Picking up his trumpet case, a new idea occurred to Corazon. Why not invite Law to see the marching band perform? Maybe not a full competition; those were always all-day affairs. But there would be lacrosse and soccer games alike coming up in the fall and spring that the band would perform at, since Silvers didn’t have a football team. Law could watch Corazon play, Corazon could field a conversation with the support of the brass section around him, and after the halftime performance was done they could leave and get dinner somewhere! Oh, it was perfect!

-n-

Unfortunately, Corazon’s bliss at such perfect planning was ruined almost the moment he got home when his phone began to ring. He dropped his bag and blazer, then dug his phone out of his pocket, heart sinking at the sight. The caller ID displayed the last name Corazon wanted to see right now: Doflamingo. His older brother.

Corazon went upstairs to change out of his uniform and let the call go to voicemail twice, before accepting that Doflamingo was going to keep calling until he got an answer; or got bored of trying and simply called the cops with instructions to perform a wellness check on his brother. Sighing, Corazon picked up the phone as he headed back downstairs to the living room. “Hey Doffy.”

“Corazon! Took you long enough!” Doflamingo’s gratingly false cheer echoed through the phone. “I was beginning to think you’d finally taken that tumble down the stairs that would snap your neck for real. Ahh, guess I’m not destined to become the sole inheritor of the family estate just yet.”

“Good to hear from you too,” Corazon grumbled as he flopped dejectedly down onto the couch. Once settled, he switched to speakerphone and pulled up his favorite takeout delivery app. If he was going to be forced to listen to his brother drone on and on, there ought to be some compensation for it, courtesy of his monthly allowance.

“What’s with that tone? Here I am, calling home out of the goodness of my heart to make sure my baby brother is still alive and well, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Right, it has absolutely nothing to do with the parents threatening to cut off your allowance if you don’t check in on me while they’re out of the country.”

“...this family is full of people who worry about you, Corazon,” Doflamingo stated after a suspiciously long pause.

“Well I’m not dead yet,” Corazon assured Doflamingo. “And I’m assuming mom and dad are doing ok? With…what are they doing now, something with water?”

“Hydroponics,” Doflamingo clarified. “Mother is convinced she can help the disadvantaged farmers in Little Garden expand their reach by ‘adding some variety’ to their grapes’ flavor profiles. And she means to do that by adding new chemicals and flavoring additives to the water they’re growing in, in fully modernized inverted gardens.”

“...uh-huh,” Corazon replied.

“Fear not, brother dearest,” Doflamingo went on. “I’ll give it a few more weeks before mother decides to give up the project and moves on to something else; well before this has any chance of impacting our inheritance. Father’s project with lemurs, however, has me a bit more concerned.”

“Wait, lemurs? What’s dad doing with lemurs?”

“No idea; hence the concern. I’ve got Trebol looking into it, of course; but as long as Sengoku keeps locking me out of father’s personal files…”

At this point, Doflamingo went on a lengthy tangent, bemoaning the difficulties that came with clearly being so much more competent at his job than everyone around him, but the lesser plebs couldn’t admit that and step out of his way, something like that. Corazon stopped listening to place his food order, then checked his email to make sure he had the dates for marching band practice synced to his calendar. Ok, he was in good shape; he’d still get Law time every week after midterms, just maybe have to cancel or move a couple of their days as the competition season heated up…

“But enough about me,” Doflamingo suddenly cut in, catching Corazon’s attention because when did his brother not want to talk about himself? “I’m sure you’re dying to know the reason for this call; and it actually has to do with an email father received from your band instructor.”

Uh-oh.

“Apparently you’ve been missing quite a bit of marching band practice,” Doflamingo went on. “Not enough to get kicked out, unfortunately for our family’s reputation, but enough to be noticed. Tell me, Corazon; what’s sparked this change in my formerly devoted brother?”

“Nothing!” Corazon immediately tried to reassure him. “I’m just…things are busy this year, and after school is…see, uhh, there’s this new kid…wait, no-”

“A new kid.”

Corazon froze. He recognized that tone. He did not like that tone. That tone always preceded his brother doing something dangerous or stupid or both. “Doffy, really, I’m not explaining things well!” he tried to insist.

“Oh no, Corazon, you’ve made the situation quite clear. The change between this year and last is the introduction of a new player on the field,” Doflamingo concluded, and unfortunately for Corazon’s mental wellbeing, he wasn’t entirely off the mark. “And he’s causing problems for you, such that you’re missing band practice.”

“Doffy, it’s really not like that!”

“In that case, perhaps I should investigate on my own,” Doflamingo suggested, tone dripping with suggestive promise. “Tell me, Corazon, what’s this boy’s name? Distinguishing features? Last known address?”

Oh fuck no, Corazon could not allow Law and Doflamingo to cross paths under any circumstances! And he especially couldn’t let the discovery of Law’s home address be tied to seeing it on the evening news after all the windows were broken in or someone had dropped a smoke bomb down the chimney! Corazon reviewed his options, calculated the risk, and picked the lesser of two evils. “Doffy, he’s not bullying me. He’s…I like him.”

A long, long pause followed that admission. And then? “Fufufu, Corazon, why didn’t you lead with that!” Doflamingo laughed into the phone.

“Oh, well, you know,” Corazon half-heartedly answered.

“A crush? Why, dearest little brother of mine, no wonder you’re panicking! The chief demographic attracted to you has always been retired old ladies at the country club; no wonder you’re at a loss!”

“Uh-huh,” Corazon grunted into the phone as he felt the beginnings of a massive headache coming on. The part of him that liked the fact that Doflamingo still called and checked up on him always managed to shrink once they actually got on the phone. This was a prime example as to why.

Doflamingo let out a weary (theatrically so) sigh and Corazon could picture him so clearly, sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room of his Mariejois penthouse, feet kicked up with a drink next to him, lording over his domain. “Lucky for you, my sweet, naive, younger brother, you are speaking to an expert in the art of seduction,” he sagely intoned. “Follow my guidance and you’ll have this boy in your bed in no time.” 

With a grimace, Corazon pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I don’t want that,” he mumbled.

If Doflamingo heard him, he pretended he hadn’t. No protests Corazon might raise could stop the one-man show playing on Doflamingo’s self-styled stage now. “The first thing you need to do is find out his birthday and preferred country to summer in. Obtaining the family name is a given; manage just these three tasks, and there’s quite a bit you can do already.”

“I would n–”

“It’s important to know who you’re dealing with. A person’s background makes it far easier to know the proper way to handle him. For instance, what if he’s lived abroad most of his life before coming to Silvers? Why, common sense would say you could play into homesickness for an easy advantage. A little searching should reveal where he came from; make a reservation at a restaurant that serves food from there. Order all the delicacies. If at all possible, make sure you sneak in something that’s considered an aphrodisiac. If he mentions something about it, laugh and pretend that you didn’t know. Turn it into a compliment. Something like…’Oh, I had no idea. You’ll forgive me for the faux pas, yes? Since I hardly need anything of that sort, when it comes to someone as lovely as you’. Usually they’ll giggle and end up eating it. They love the plausible deniability that an external substance gives them in bed; so much easier to push personal boundaries when you can blame the sherry or the dessert instead of your own secret desires…”  

Of course he had an entire script ready to go. Doflamingo treated seduction like a battle plan. Every word he said, every speck of clothing on his (stupidly ripped) body, and every action he undertook was all meticulously curated to induce the response he wanted; up to and including his chosen paramour and himself going their separate ways once Doflamingo had gotten everything out of them he’d been seeking. There was no real romance to Doflamingo’s methods. His motivation was hollow and focused entirely on personal indulgence and gains.  

That wasn’t what Corazon wanted. He wanted the sweet, spontaneous moments where he and Law would do what their feelings told them without thinking about it. He wanted terrible dinners that they’d laugh about years later, and fumbling through navigating the terrain and crowds of theme parks, and simultaneously deciding to walk out of a performance that wasn’t anything close to good! Doflamingo was a master at sweet talking and getting laid (which, true, Corazon did need help with), but he didn’t really have long-term partners. Their goals in wooing people were completely at odds with one another. It was for this reason that Corazon stopped listening to Doflamingo for a bit and went to fetch his laundry from upstairs, cursing himself for forgetting to grab it earlier. He needed to make sure the bag was set out before he went to school tomorrow, otherwise the maids might miss it!

By the time he returned downstairs to where he’d left his phone, Doflamingo had moved on to describing how to pick the perfect gift for your date, and actually, Corazon might be able to use some of that advice. He interrupted Doflamingo’s description of precise timing for boat rentals (apparently you didn’t want to be on the water all day, it decreased your chances of a quickie? Something like that) to say, “Well I’ve already bought him coffee a couple times. And one time he bought it for me-”

“Rookie mistake,” Doflamingo scolded. 

“What? How?!”

“In the first place, there’s not a chance in hell he doesn’t know who you are and how deep your pockets run,” Doflamingo stated. “He has to know you could buy a whole coffee shop, never mind whatever twee drinks you two have chosen to indulge in. Him paying for something you’ve traditionally paid for either suggests a lack of faith in your long term ability to financially provide for him, or else him viewing this association as a business relationship where neither party wishes to be indebted to the other.”

“I…that doesn’t sound right,” Corazon protested, head spinning from Doflamingo’s accusation.

“No matter. The seal was broken the minute he allowed you to buy him anything; now you simply have to up your spending, until he can no longer hope to reciprocate your generosity with anything except…his personal assets.”

“Well what do you suggest?” Corazon asked, pointedly ignoring his jackass of a brother’s insinuations. He needed ideas; push through the migraine Doflamingo was inducing.

“Something expensive. Jewelry? Shoes you’d want to see him in on a date? Rent a helicopter to take him flying over the city,” Doflamingo casually tossed out. “Figure out what the ceiling to his budget is, and blow right past it.”

“But what if he refuses?!”

“...refuses?”

“Yes! What if he takes one look at my gift and says no?”

“...I’m sorry, are you implying that there could be someone out there who would refuse the demands of a Donquixote?” Doflamingo incredulously asked. “If you tell him to accept a gift, all he should say is ‘thank you,’ and proudly show off the present for all to see how well you can provide for him. Unless…Corazon, have you erroneously led this boy to believe he can turn you down?”

Oh right, this was why he had stopped listening to Doflamingo in the first place. For every tiny morsel of help that he could offer, there was a metric brick of fuckery to follow. Closing his eyes, Corazon took a deep breath and thought through his answer. How to explain things in a way that Doflamingo would understand? Well…that was probably impossible. “Uhm…” Thoughtfully, he started his way up the stairs, one hand on the railing as he contemplated throwing himself down them. If he was lucky he’d break his phone, if he was unlucky he’d break a bone, but either way he’d get out of his conversation. He was about halfway up the stairs, contemplating if he’d climbed far enough, when there was a loud bang and an even louder voice from Doflamingo’s end. 

“Yo, Doffy! C’mon! Let’s get our asses moving before we miss Sugar’s thing.” Diamante, for that was the only one of Doflamingo’s friends whose voice carried that well, shouted in the background. “I don’t want her to make that face at us.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Doflamingo sighed, followed by the loud sound of rustling. “Sorry, little brother, but duty calls. When I get a moment, I’ll send you some links to some essentials you’ll need.” 

“Uh-huh,” Corazon mumbled to the sudden silence on the other end of the phone. 

-n-

Not many people came out of midterms in a better mood than they entered them, but Law was a different breed entirely. By the time Corazon made it to the library on Friday afternoon, feeling every bit like a train traveling at forty km/hr westwards on a shared track or something had hit him, Law was already sitting at their usual table, looking far more relaxed than he had…ever. His chin was propped up on the palm of his hand, elbow on the table, and he flipped idly through a book in front of him with nary a notebook in sight. Even more shocking? That book was decidedly not a textbook! At the sound of Corazon’s footsteps scuffing across the floor, Law looked up and ohmygod, he was smiling. A smile! Directed at Corazon. Sure it was slight, a faint curling at the corners of his (perfect) mouth that wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone who didn’t spend all their time staring at carefully observing Law’s microexpressions, but it still counted as a smile. 

“Hm.” Law’s eyes skimmed over Corazon and he tilted his head to the side, lifting his brow with mild amusement. “Tough time on your last test?” 

Corazon blinked at him quizzically. Sure, math had never been his strongest subject, and yeah, he’d spent a lot of time erasing his answers and desperately trying to make the numbers make sense, but there was no way for Law to know that. Unless he had some kind of tutor sixth sense…which would track. 

Law snorted, tapping the tip of his finger against the tip of his nose in a way that was far too cute for Corazon to handle. “You smeared graphite all over yourself.” 

“!!!” With a desperate whine, Corazon clamped his hand over his nose and attempted to twist away so that Law couldn’t see him. One foot caught against the other foot, his legs knocking together and sending him sprawling onto the floor of the library. To add insult to injury, he kicked one of the chairs out from under the table on his way down and it clattered loudly to the floor. Once again, he’d crumpled into a miserable little heap in the face of his crush. This was not how the afternoon was supposed to go! Corazon had a plan! Or, at the very least, he had an approximation of a plan. 

Part A: meet Law when he was in a better mood after finishing his midterms. That was done and dusted. 

Part B: the two of them would go to get their snacks and Corazon casually (or at least as casually as possible through the written word) suggesting they hang around the cafe instead of going back to the library. 

And Part C. That was where it got really good. Corazon had it all mapped out in his head. While they were sitting together at one of the smaller tables in the corners of the cafe, squished close enough together that they’d be able to feel one another’s body heat from shoulder to elbow, Corazon would invite Law to a soccer game. Law would say yes. Corazon would subsequently perform his heart out (because having a talent on display apparently made people more attractive), and Law would be so impressed afterwards that he’d let Corazon take him out for dinner once the band finished their show! And they’d get burgers and fries and shakes, just like in the movies, and they’d have such a good time together that Corazon would have no issue talking to Law, and it would be so much fun that Law would be the one to suggest another date, and-

“Oi, did you actually crack open your head this time?”

-and none of that was going to happen if Corazon didn’t peel himself off the floor at once, get a grip!

Corazon forced himself into an upright position, then frantically swiped at his nose so hard it would be a wonder if he didn’t take off the top layer of skin alongside the pencil lead. Law snorted, which nearly made Corazon’s brain come to a screeching halt because since when did Law express joy?! Oh, and it was such a cute little sound too, perfectly suited to convey emotion and oh so very Law.

“Well, you don’t look dead,” Law remarked. “C’mon. Midterms might be over but finals aren’t that far off. We need to get our snacks and get back to studying. Ok, Cora-san?”

“...”

“Hmmm? Seriously, Cora-san, you all right?” Law asked, looking slightly more worried now, which was something that Corazon was not at all prepared to address because his brain had frozen on “Cora-san.”

A nickname. Law had given him a nickname! For the last two months Corazon had just been “idiot” or “you” in conversation, but now Law was so euphoric from midterms being over that he’d taken the next step in their friendship and given Corazon a nickname! And here Corazon had been panicking about getting him to come to a game; obviously if Law felt comfortable enough to be this familiar with Corazon, then he’d definitely want to hang out after a halftime show!

Swiping his fingers across the screen as quickly as human biology would allow, Corazon typed up a message. “Yeah, just a little tired from band practice. We’re working hard on drills for the first performance.”

Law quietly absorbed this information. “Ok…”

“Yeah, it’s going to be really impressive! You should come see. We’re playing at the next soccer game,” Corazon prompted in his next message. 

“Uh…I’m not really into…sports.” Law blinked at him. There was an absolutely adorable befuddled look on his face and Corazon’s heart pitter-pattered hard against his chest, throat tightening so that even if he wanted to try to speak he wouldn’t have been able to. Why was Law so cute?! It wasn’t fair. How was Corazon ever going to be able to speak to him when he looked like that all the time?

Typing so fast that his thumbs ached, Corazon explained his thinking as best he could through the magic of a smartphone predictive text keyboard. His heart pounded hard against his ribs and he struggled to keep his hand from shaking as he held the phone out to Law. “That’s okay! I don’t like sports either, but you don’t have to stay the whole time. I never do. I always leave right after halftime and then go and get some food. If you’re not feeling it, we’ll all leave.” 

There was no ‘all’ of course, but Corazon had realized that it was impossible for him to even type out the suggestion of spending time alone, on a date, with Law. The implication that there were other people coming made it easier. And then when it ultimately turned out to be just the two of them? Well, it always worked out in his novels.

Law’s brow furrowed as he read the message, eyes flickering towards Corazon and then back down at the words again. “...it’s not on a school night, right? I’ve…got a curfew on school nights.”

“Friday, a week from next!” Corazon’s next message assured him. He didn’t want to keep Law out late and get in trouble with family; but if the curfew only applied to school nights, then perhaps Corazon could keep Law out extra late on weekends, to such an hour that Law might be worried about waking up his folks if he came home and then Corazon could be a gentleman and offer to let Law come home with him and sleep in his house after borrowing some pajamas and stop right there, Corazon’s mind was going to fry at that mental image!

“...sure. Going to a school game is probably one of those things I should do at least once to say I did it,” Law finally reasoned.

“Great! I can text you the date and time so you’ll remember?”

Law flinched, ever so slightly, at that. “Actually…just write it down here,” he prompted, before flipping open one of his notebooks and sliding it over. “I remember things better if they’re written out, not texted.”

Drat, Corazon had been hoping for a chance to get Law’s phone number! But maybe that was still a little too forward? Law was incredibly private, from what he’d been able to tell. Maybe going to a soccer game together and hanging out afterwards would help Law feel more comfortable sharing personal information like that. Scooping up Law’s notebook like it was no big deal, Corazon quickly wrote down the details for the band’s first public performance and slid the notebook back over. It was fine. He’d already gotten Law to agree to come out and watch him perform, and that had been the main goal for today. Just take things one step at a time.

Chapter Text

Shivering as the wind cut straight through his lightweight jacket, Law wondered for the hundredth time why he’d bothered to come to this soccer game at all.

The shortest and simplest answer was, Dadan had told him to.  Not directly, of course.  But they’d been cleaning up after dinner one night, and Dadan had made a comment about Law needing to get out of the house sometimes, instead of spending all day holed up in his room, nose buried in a book.  To some, that might have come across as friendly encouragement to socialize.  But Law couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper meaning to Dadan’s words; some sort of implication that he was spending too much time in her house, and she’d really rather have a bit more space and privacy to herself, before he grew too annoying.  Based on previous interactions with her, it was unlikely; but you could never be certain on exactly how willing foster parents were to keep you in the long run.  Best err on the side of caution.  Law’s next course of action was clear; he needed to make himself scarce every now and again.

So when Corazon had suggested Law come to a soccer game, of course he’d accepted the offer (after carefully sussing out pertinent details to ensure it wouldn’t impact his studies, naturally).  He’d made it very clear to Dadan that he’d be going, too.  The night of the soccer game and the marching band’s first halftime performance, Law made a show of coming out of his room in street clothes (albeit with some notebooks tucked into his messenger bag, but she didn’t need to know that) and walked loudly enough down the hallway that she caught sight of him passing the entryway to the living room.

Dadan was a tall and broad middle-aged woman.  Her long, curly red head was tied back in a bun tonight as she worked on her favorite crossword puzzle book in a plush, aged recliner, a cigarette clenched between her teeth as she tried to unravel what must have been a particularly difficult word.  She’d glanced up at Law’s approach, eyeing his appearance with clear surprise. “Big night on the town?” she asked.

“Going to a soccer game with a friend,” Law fibbed.  The game part was true, but Cora-san’s exact relationship to him was…hard to classify.  Not a friend, surely.  Just an excuse and cover for him tonight.

If Law’s attire surprised Dadan, his answer outright shocked her.  Her whole body froze and telegraphed absolute astonishment, and had it not been for reflexes developed over a lifetime of smoking, her cigarette might have hit the ground as it slipped out of her slack mouth, instead of landing in her fingers by her pencil without so much as singeing her hand. “Oh.  Good for you, kiddo!  Need any money for the game?”

“Nope, all good,” Law reflexively refused. “You want me home by…9?  10?”

“It’s the weekend.  Stay out as long as you want,” Dadan encouraged. “You got your key?” Law held up the house key for her to see, attached to the end of his lanyard as always. “Excellent.  Have a good time.  Oh, and bring this friend around at some point.  I need to meet whoever managed to get you to dig your head out of theoretical physics or whatever for once.”

“Bye Dadan,” Law replied as he scuttled towards the door.  Damn it, she was supposed to be happy he was getting out of the house, not encouraging him to bring other people into it!  Especially not rich pricks from Silvers Academy who’d probably accuse them of having fleas or mold as soon as they saw Dadan’s small, older house, never mind coming inside.  Law carried these worries and frustration through his whole bus ride and past sneaking into the game (like hell he was paying for a ticket to see rich brats chase other rich brats around the soccer pitch), and even as he was trying to find a seat in the bleachers.  Maybe he could get some studying done.  Nothing took your mind off life’s problems like trying to straighten out the circular wreaths that constituted the family trees of most of the World Nobles in his Ancient History coursework.  However…

The game was loud.  Between the fans, the referee whistles, and the overhead announcements, Law couldn’t understand how anyone could keep their thoughts straight.  The other people in the bleachers were constantly coming and going, knocking into Law or jostling his bag as they traveled to the concession stand or simply moved rows to be closer to friends.  Add in the fact that Dressrosa was experiencing the first of many cold snaps the city was known for this time of year, and you’d created the perfect storm of misery for someone like Law.  No wonder the older students snuck in flasks that definitely weren’t filled with soda, so to speak.

Finally, they reached the halfway point in the game.  Law could have wept with joy when the marching band at last took to the field in their crimson and gold uniforms; all he had to do was sit through a stupid performance, tell Cora-san he did a great job but Law was feeling pretty tired, and then go home.  That was it.  He’d gotten out of the house for a while, he’d kept his promise to Cora-san, and he could finally go home to his books and his bed and his quiet.

It was quite clear to Law even a couple minutes into the performance that the marching band was still ironing out some kinks.  The performers mostly had the steps down, but there were still a fair number of players who were clearly watching other performers from the corner of their eyes to follow their section’s movements.  The color guard’s routine was nice, but mostly consisted of spinning flags with few tosses.  And then came the brass section.

There was a palpable tension in the performers that Law could sense even from this distance as they started moving.  Cora-san, standing nearly a head above the next tallest player, very carefully shuffled his way to his mark, and then proceeded to stand perfectly still, playing the trumpet while the rest of the brass section marched around him.  It was almost like he’d been turned into a May pole, and Law couldn’t help but wonder if that was more for his safety, or the safety of the rest of the marching band.

The music suddenly stopped, the performers froze, and the people in the stands began clapping with a few cheers mixed in here and there.  It felt like an abrupt ending, but then Law reminded himself that likely there were still a few parts left to add to the performance; they just hadn’t reached the point in being able to add those movements yet.  The band members started marching off the field, two by two, heading back to the locker room to change.  Law was hit with a sudden worry that Cora-san wouldn’t find him or even know he’d come before he went inside, and then Law would have to wait for him to come out and track down the guy and spend extra time and energy talking to people, and-

And then, mercifully, Cora-san glanced up into the stands as he walked, and their eyes met.  Law could feel the tension leaking out of his shoulders as he waved at Cora-san, immediately getting a smile and wave in return.  In retrospect, the blame for what happened next clearly lay with Law, because asking Cora-san to do more than one thing while also walking could only end in disaster.  Cora-san’s feet became tangled up with one another, and with a rather undignified squawk he crashed to the ground, trumpet in tow.  Whoops.

-n-

Eventually Cora-san was able to peel himself off the green with the help of the rest of the brass section, and the herd of gold and scarlet band nerds disappeared into the locker room.  Slowly they began to trickle back out in street clothes, and Law watched with bated breath as Cora-san stepped out wearing jeans, sneakers, and a (decidedly warm-looking) marching band jacket.  He was empty-handed; presumably the trumpet had been locked up wherever he stored it after a game.  Cora-san looked up and confirmed that Law was still in the bleachers, and then dared to ascend the stairs to him.  Thank goodness Law had picked a low section on the bleachers; god only knew what would happen if Cora-san had to climb up more than a few rows. “That was pretty good,” Law offered politely. “You looked great.”

It was the correct response, judging from Cora-san’s reaction.  He smiled wide and visibly perked up, making Law hesitate (just for a moment) before he said, “But I’m not a soccer person.  You good to leave before the game’s over?” Damn it, he’d meant to excuse himself, not give Cora-san an opening to leave with him!

Adding reinforcement to Law’s belief that he’d made a poor choice, Cora-san immediately replied on his phone, “Yes, I’m dying for something to eat!  Burgers and fries sound good?” 

Well…Law could always use another bite to eat.  And since the food plan was something of a surprise, if Cora-san tried to split the tab then he could totally pull the “oops, I left my wallet at home” bit, he supposed.  For right now… “Sure.  Lead the way.”

-n-

It had taken Law around two blocks to realize they were being followed.

The car in question was a rather nice luxury model that Law happened to notice pulling out of the parking lot at the same time that he and Cora-san had crossed a major intersection while they were leaving the stadium.  And under normal circumstances Law could ignore that, but it kept following them.  It would pull into a parking spot when they had to wait for a crosswalk to change, then would slowly creep through intersections as he and Cora-san walked along.  It was unnerving; why would anyone care to follow them?

The only conclusion Law could draw was that someone was stalking Cora-san; possibly with intention to intimidate or kidnap him.  And Law was not nearly a kind or generous enough soul to risk his own well-being for the sake of some rich bastard that probably wouldn’t give him the time of day if he hadn't personally helped with his studying.  The next time they had to shuffle awkwardly around a fire hydrant, Law made sure that Cora-san ended up walking nearer to the street.  That way if someone did want to abscond with Cora-san, they wouldn’t have to go through Law to get to him.  No collateral damage.  

And Cora-san, for his part, seemed completely oblivious to the fact that they were being tailed.  Honestly, it was almost painful how easy of a target he made.  He walked along, head in the clouds and a goofy smile on his face as he barely managed to avoid crashing into every single light pole that lined the street.  All someone with bad intentions would probably need to do is roll up to the curb and pop open their door and Cora-san would just fall in.  Lord forbid they asked him politely, he would end up tripping over himself to get in there and then apologize for scuffing their leather upholstery.  Ugh, how annoying.

A quick peek revealed that the car was still following them, going far too slowly to be anything but a tail.  Law had heard some of their peers talking about having bodyguards when they went out. He’d always thought that they were just bragging and making shit up to seem more important, but now he was beginning to wonder just why Cora-san didn’t have one of those.  Clearly he could barely keep himself alive on a good day; how did his family not get that?

Carefully eyeing the car, Law almost ran into Cora-san when he turned another corner and pointed ahead.  Even without saying so, Law was pretty sure they’d reached their final destination, judging from the smell of fry grease in the air.  Good.  Hopefully whoever was tailing them would give up and zip off to find some easier mark to pick up.  And to drive home the point that their kidnapping wouldn’t go off without a hitch, Law even turned around and briefly flipped off the driver, before heading for the door.

The diner’s neon sign (flickering in a way that suggested in might be overdue for maintenance and repairs by a good five years) proclaimed this establishment to be Porche’s Patties and Shakes.  The mascot on the front door (Porche, presumably) was a smiling, buxom cartoon woman in a form-fitting pink jumpsuit, wearing a matching striped, pom-pom’d hat and a slim, black eye mask, standing tall and tossing back her blue hair as a cartoon speech bubble welcomed customers to her establishment.  Walking inside revealed a diner setup with pink and red floor tiles that matched the colors on Porche’s clothing.  Neon lighting stretched across the ceiling, creating a pathway for visitors to follow to either a counter where they could order something to go, or head towards a booth and seat themselves.  Shuffling towards the booths (because like hell Law wanted to get takeout and head directly back into the cold and a potential kidnapping scenario), he caught sight of a number of other character decals on the wall, including a large, ape-like man wearing a leopard print scarf over an apron at the grill, and a shorter, big-nosed man with bright orange suspenders that ran under a burgundy coat, slicking back his pointy hair and informing guests that the “Davy Back Double-Pounder” was back, for a limited time only.  Law immediately recognized him as Foxy, a popular entertainer who’d managed to slap his branding onto just about everything at the height of his career fame.  Law also vaguely recalled there being a lawsuit over copyright infringement at the clown themeing Foxy-affiliated restaurants had once been using, brought forth by another clown-themed eatery, Buggy’s.  Judging from the sparse decorations (and clear evidence that older designs had been hastily painted over on the walls around them), Law had a feeling Porche’s must have folded and spent the absolute minimum amount necessary to establish itself as an independent property.

His musings on the higher level warfare of corporate franchises was interrupted by a waitress appearing from his right and slapping a couple menus onto the table.  She wore a baggy dress in a ruddy pink color with pom-poms lined down the front, a hat with a massive pom-pom angled on her head, mismatched socks, vaguely hellish clown make-up, and an exhausted expression.  “Can I get you kids anything to start?”  Her smile was tired, but kind.

“Water, for both of us,” Law answered, because he needed a minute to see what they were working with here.  The waitress walked off, and Law noticed that even the back of her shoes had pom-poms on them. 

The menu was large and laminated with plastic that was covered in a thin, tacky layer of grease.  A decent section was dedicated solely to various flavors of milkshakes, (including a rather questionable double-sized abomination dubbed a “Groggy Monsters Milkshake,” no thank you) with a mind-boggling amount of Monda mix-ins available for a modest fee.  The rest of the menu contained the expected diner fare of burgers, chicken fingers, a few sandwiches, and two slightly different piles of lettuce and dressing that they attempted to call salads, which accounted for the sum total of vegetarian options at Porche’s.  In short, standard greasy spoon diner fare.  Nothing was so expensive that he’d feel guilty about making Cora-san pay for it; not that he had any reason to feel guilty, of course, considering this whole thing was Cora-san’s suggestion in the first place.  No accounting for taste, regardless of income.  Maybe playing in marching band made you crave something equal parts salty and greasy when a performance was done.

The waitress returned with two sweating glasses of ice water then, and quietly slid them onto the table.  From her dress pocket she extracted a notepad and a comically small pen.  Looking between the two of them, she cocked her head to the side and managed a slightly brighter smile.  “Have you boys decided what you want to order?” 

“Uhm, yeah.” Law turned his attention back to the menu.  “Can I get a Hamburg’s Ha-ha-hamburger with cheese, and the lettuce wrap instead of a bun, please?” 

The pen scratched against the paper.  “Mhm. And for your side?”

“Fries.” Order complete, Law set down his menu.  As the waitress turned towards Cora-san, Law belatedly realized there was a problem.  Every time they’d gone to Binks to pick up their orders, Cora-san had already placed his choices through the app.  Law’s was just added on after they arrived and he had a chance to see what was available in the cooler still.  Once Law decided what he wanted, the barista would scan the barcode tied to Corazon’s account on his phone and make everything all at once.  That didn’t work for a spontaneous meal like this, which meant Cora-san was going to have to struggle to place his order without being able to speak; or…

Or Law was going to have to help him.  Letting Cora-san flail would prolong this disastrous attempt at socializing to a point where Law would never be able to crawl out of the ensuing embarrassment spiral.  Not to mention that Cora-san definitely had the energy of someone who’d break down crying if put under too much stress at once; something that Law might possibly feel slightly, barely bad about if he could have done something to avoid it.  In short, letting Cora-san flounder wasn’t an option.  With a soft sigh, Law hooked a finger around the top of Cora-san’s menu and pulled it down to rest flat against the table, where they could both see the options.  “What do you want to order?” 

A large hand came into view, finger pointing out several items carefully.  “He’s going to have the same hamburger, the Big Eater Basket o’ Fries, and a Chuchun chocolate milkshake,” Law read out carefully.  Cora-san tapped his finger against the milkshake page again and held up two fingers.  “Sorry, two milkshakes, please.”

It was a lot for one meal, but Law supposed being a clumsy giant required eating plenty of food; particularly when you considered how often Cora-san injured himself, and how much more caloric intake his body required to keep up with repairing all that damage.  Cora-san handed their menus to the waitress, and once she walked off his attention returned to Law, the dopey smile on his face growing even wider and dopier when his eyes met Law’s. He quickly typed a message and slid it across the slightly sticky table.  “Thank you!” 

“Tch.” Law sunk back against the pleather of the booth back, sliding Cora-san’s phone back to him and crossing his arms over his chest.  “Don’t thank me. It’s no big deal.”

Cora-san shook his head quickly and typed out another message before once again sliding the phone towards him.  “Thank you for coming here with me and coming to see the band performance. It made me really happy.” And to stress his happiness, Cora-san had added a big smiley face to the end of his message (one which looked only marginally less ridiculous than the one on Cora-san’s face).

“Oh…uhm…” The phone moved back across the table and Law suddenly felt extremely exposed.  “Don’t mention it.  My f…it seemed like a good idea to get out of the house, that’s all.  Can’t spend my whole life locked up in my room.”  No point in bringing up his talk with Dadan right now.  Even though Cora-san seemed nicer (albeit weirder) than the other rich kids at Silvers, Law didn’t know if he was ready to explain his living situation to Cora-san.  Although…maybe being seen with a foster kid would be the thing that would finally scare him off, since there wasn’t much social capital to be gained from associating with someone at Law’s social station. In that scenario, he’d take one look at Law’s living arrangements, beat a hasty retreat back to rich boy land, and then stop showing up for their study sessions because he wouldn’t want to hang around with Law anymore.  Well.  Law had wanted to get rid of him, but…

Cora-san was typing on his phone again, face screwed up in concentration as he tapped out words and then erased them. After the overhead music had changed tracks no less than three times, he held his phone out to Law again with a shy grin.  “My parents say the same about me.  That’s why I joined band in the first place.  Otherwise I’d just sit around the house and watch TV by myself.” 

Law refused to feel sorry for the poor little rich kid, even if it was kind of pathetic.  Still, he pushed Cora-san’s phone back towards him and shook his head.  “At least you’re spending some of that time studying with me,” he said.

To his horror, Cora-san nodded so enthusiastically and rushed to type something that he knocked over his water with his elbow and spilled it across the table, leading to a frantic rush to mop it up with napkins.  By the time they were finished, the napkin dispenser was more empty than full, and there was a small, soggy mountain of wet papery mush at the edge of the table. “Careful.”

“Sorry,” came the next message, accompanied by several frowny faces and a slumped over Cora-san.  Urgh, how did a guy that big manage to perfectly embody the energy of a kicked puppy?!

“Don’t sweat it.  You can’t help it, yeah?”  Accidents were part and parcel of spending time with Cora-san.  Besides, at a restaurant like this where everything was built for regular-sized humans, of course Cora-san was going to knock things over.  Actually…between his inability to order, the tacky, low-class decor, and his sheer bulk leading to him struggling to sit comfortably in the booth, why did Cora-san even want to come here?  Was the food unspeakably amazing?

“Here you go, boys!”

Law would get his answer soon enough.  The waitress was back and carefully began dolling out their plates.  Law could only stare.  The burgers were close to the size of his face.  The mountain of chili-cheese fries that Cora-san had ordered was the size of his head.  And the milkshakes probably had enough calories in them to count as their own meal.  “Lemme get you some refills,” the waitress said before scuttling off to get her water pitcher.  Cora-san didn’t even hesitate before he pushed one of the milkshake glasses across the table towards Law, unwrapping a straw and carefully pressing into the thick, chocolate mixture.  

Law lifted his eyes back towards Cora-san, a brow raising, and was greeted with a smile and a thumbs up.  “I don’t-”  Cora-san wasn’t willing to hear what he was saying, giving the glass another light shove with the tips of his fingers to scooch it even closer to Law.  At the rate he was going, if Law kept refusing, Cora-san was going to dump the milkshake in his lap.  “Fine, fine.  Stop that.”  

A mistake, because after he agreed with Cora-san, the mound of chili cheese fries made their way into the center of the table.  Right, sure.  It wasn’t like he had his own fries with his meal or anything, and the too yellow, greasy cheese sauce made him feel a little sick to look at it.  Sure. He could eat more fries. 

Satisfied, Cora-san sat back in his seat and took a massive bite of his burger.  No point in letting the food get cold because he was too busy staring at it.  Law picked up his own burger, ignored the way the burger grease dribbled off the lettuce wrap, and dug in.

-n-

The food was perfectly serviceable, Law decided as he sipped at his milkshake.  The burger was cooked well but lacked seasoning; the fries were good, but turned soggy under the weight of all their toppings.  And the milkshake was definitely a treat better geared towards warmer weather.  All told, Law could have cooked and eaten a better meal at home; with less people around him, too.  Well…Dadan had suggested he invite Cora-san over at some point.  And if she wanted him to keep getting out of the house…rather than sacrifice two separate evenings for these demands, Law might as well combine them into one night of social misery.  Go to another of Cora-san’s games, bring him home, have Dadan assess that Silvers was, in fact, full of rich weirdos at the same time Cora-san decided he did not, in fact, want to continue his association with Law, and then hopefully Law would be barred from ever inviting someone over to the house again.  Yeah, that was the solution! “Hey, Cora-san, next time, how about-”

“Holy fuck it is you!”

Law found himself rudely interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the bowl-cut brothers.  He looked over in time to see the pair of them barreling towards their booth, and his hand was already reaching for his messenger bag.  Whatever they needed at that speed couldn’t be good.  And Law was prepared to meet their fervor with force, if need be.

Imagine his shock, then, when blond bowl-cut rudely slid himself into the booth (placing him directly into Law’s personal space). “Your name’s Law, right?  Law the tutor?!”

“Who’s asking?”

“Fuck man, you’ve gotta help me!” Blondie was tearing up, Law could finally tell from this proximity, and he looked like he’d been running from the devil himself. “I got my midterm back in writing and I am screwed!”

“Same!” Pink bowl-cut concurred from where he’d shoved his way into the booth on Cora-san’s side. “And the biology test was way harder than we thought it was gonna be, I swear Prof. Tsuru didn’t say anything about an essay portion when we did the review day!”

“You’re already tutoring him, right?!” blondie asked while jerking a thumb towards Cora-san.

“...yeah, but-”

“Whatever he’s paying, I’ll double it!” Blondie negotiated.

“Same, same!” Pinkie despairingly promised.

“You…you’re serious?” Law asked.  That was what had them racing over here and practically sticking their hands into his fries?  Needing a tutor? “Can’t your parents hire someone?”

“No no no, my dad cannot find out I’m underwater at Silvers right now,” Blondie insisted. “Like, if he sees my grades he is going to kick my ass so hard.”

“I-”

“Literally, his boot will be so far up my ass I’ll be able to floss with the shoelaces,” Blondie moaned and oh god, now there was snot to go with the tears, urgh, why hadn’t Law smacked him away on initial approach?

“Same here!  Well, not the flossing thing but my family would kill me too,” Pinkie assured him. “Just tell us how much you charge, we’ll get it to you in cash, and no one gets shipped off to G-1 Reform School for Wayward Youths.”  He leaned forwards, and between him and Blondie, Law was pretty effectively caged in.

What the hell was this?  Why were these rich fucks crashing their dinner at some random diner, and why did they think it was fine to jump Law like this, and how dare-

Quite suddenly, both boys were yanked backwards, yelping as they were moved.  It took Law precious seconds to process that Cora-san had snagged both of them by their shirt collars, dragging them away from Law with his freakishly long arms.  He was frowning, no, glowering down at them as he stood up and moved them physically out of the booth, and since when did Cora-san have the guts to do that?!

“Owowow! Geez, I get it, you can let go now,” Blondie yowled as Cora-san loomed over them, a physical barrier between their insanity and Law’s dinner.  It gave Law the space he needed to think about the suggestion; because as much as he might want to turn them down, they were offering him financial compensation.  

Law could easily imagine what their allowances might look like as students of Silvers; and if you factored in how desperate they both clearly were to get a tutor, under the table without their families or the school finding out?  Law could easily bilk them for plenty without either of them batting an eye.  It would be more money in his emergency fund; he could even start thinking of buying college prep materials to supplement the books he’d checked out of the library. “Forty an hour,” he opened with.  Once all eyes were on him, he added, “And that price goes up if I think you’re slacking.”

“Seriously?!  Oh damn, you’re a lifesaver!” Blondie declared, shoving past Cora-san to grab Law’s hand and give him a handshake and a few firm slaps on his shoulder.  Shit, with how readily he agreed Law knew he could have gone higher with the pricing. “Listen, Koby and I still need to grab our food, lemme treat you to something to celebrate!  House shakes, on me!”  And before Law could protest that Cora-san had already gotten them more than enough to eat, Blondie and…Koby, Law supposed, were running off to the counter.  Presumably, they were trying to avoid giving Law a chance to rethink their bargain, and the milkshake in question was essentially a down payment on his tutoring services.  Well.  There were worse things in life than free food.  For example…

Cora-san sank down in his seat, frowning after the bowl-cut brothers.  He clearly wasn’t any happier with them being going than he’d been when they were around; a sentiment Law could understand. “Hey, don’t stress about them,” Law instructed as he reached for another chili cheese fry. “They’re idiots, obviously.  But they’re gone now.  Let’s finish the meal and head out, before they can come back again.  Ok?”

It was a suggestion made half in jest, designed to lift Cora-san’s mood.  But the older teenager shrugged and then continued to sulk, sadly stirring the straw in his milkshake.  Law couldn’t understand.  What was wrong now?

Chapter Text

For the tenth time that afternoon, Corazon had to remind himself that, tempting as the idea might be, the solution to having to share Law with other people was not calling Doflamingo and asking for help making a few members of the brass section disappear under mysterious circumstances.  Really, really had to work to remind himself of that.

Corazon’s logic was simple.  Jealous types never got the guy in the end.  Jealous romance options either lost their love interest to the far more handsome and less jealous lead, or else had to wade through multiple chapters or arcs where the couple couldn’t be together because of melodrama caused by jealousy and by the time they did get back together, Corazon kind of hated them anyway because why did early access to new chapters cost so much, wasn’t it enough that the authors got his monthly subscription?!  Maybe he needed to see if his parents could buy him the hosting site; or at least the Romance section of OharArchive.  Corazon bet the owners had some kind of premium account that would give them unlimited access to new chapters…

Regardless, he couldn’t lock up Law and keep him all to himself, Corazon refused to turn his personal life into yandere endgame!

“Dude, how do you survive private tutoring sessions three times a week?” Helmeppo grumbled as he sank into his seat beside Corazon, instrument case pointedly thunking down beside him. “I think twice is already too much, he’s gonna kill us!”

On second thought, perhaps the yandere lifestyle hadn’t been given due consideration.

“He drilled us on taxonomy classification until the words stopped making sense,” Koby agreed from Helmeppo’s other side.  He sighed as he clicked open the latches on his instrument case and kicked his backpack under the seat. “But at least the stuff makes sense when he teaches it.”

“For real,” Helmeppo agreed. “Although from how much he marked up my rough draft for writing, I don’t know if there’s any saving it.  Think if I paid him triple he’d just write the damn paper for me?”

“One way to find out,” Corazon suggested with only a mild amount of vindictive energy.

Helmeppo considered for a moment, then visibly slumped over as he unpacked his trombone. “You’re right, he’d just murder me.  Hey, what if you came along next time?  You actually hang out with Law outside of school, right?  If his friend is there, maybe he’ll take it easier on us!”

“No way,” Koby shot down immediately. “One of us at least has to come to practice so he can tell the other two what we missed during tutoring!  Besides, Law said a max of two people at a time, and you’re not leaving me alone with him!”

“C’mon Koby, take one for the team!  He kinda likes you-”

“-bullshit!”

“If you don’t like having Law for a tutor, you could always find someone else,” Corazon suggested with more than a little glee.  Wouldn’t that be a nice turn of events?  All the whining they were doing was disgusting, when they had the privilege of receiving the attention of someone as smart and handsome and driven as Law.  If they couldn’t appreciate their blessings, then they should leave. “He’s not the only nerd in the school.  And you probably won’t think the next one is scary by comparison.”

“Hell no, not after what I’ve already paid him.  He was very clear about no refunds, not even if I’m too stupid to learn what he’s teaching us,” Helmeppo directly quoted. “For crying out loud, Corazon, why couldn’t you have warned us Law’s baseline is five seconds away from murder?”

“It is not!” Corazon argued.

“I mean, I kind of assumed that’s why he grabbed us at Porche’s,” Koby admitted. “You know, move us out of stabbing range before Law could grab his fork.”

“Oh right, that.  Still a dick move, by the way.”

“You were in his space!” Corazon snapped.  He hated that he couldn’t speak up soon enough to stop them from asking Law to be their tutor, but he still felt proud that he’d moved to defend Law so quickly.  It was the right thing to do, given how thick Koby and Helmeppo were being.  They should have noticed how Law’s body language screamed that he was uncomfortable, and extracted themselves immediately.  Since they didn’t, Corazon had to help them. 

“And you could’ve just told us to back up a little,” Helmeppo shot back. “Or he could have, if it was actually bothering him.  But no, you just grabbed us and fucking…went all Doflamingo.”

Not exactly accurate, given that Doflamingo would hardly have left things at simply being removed from his personal space; but the words landed a blow all the same, and Corazon immediately felt guilt over taking a physical approach right off the bat.  Koby and Helmeppo weren’t exactly friends, but they’d all been in the brass section together since middle school.  You could only go through so many summer band camps and collectively suffer from sunburn, nearly fainting due to dehydration, and then projectile vomiting after rapidly overheating while rehydrating, without eventually developing some sort of bond. “Sorry,” Corazon muttered. “I just…wasn’t sure how he’d react to both of you jumping him like that.” There, that sounded reasonable enough.

“See, I told you!” Koby immediately piped up. “He was trying to warn us.”

“Well some harbinger you turned out to be,” Helmeppo groused. “I don’t know who’s going to kill me first, dad if he sees my grades or Law if he doesn’t see improvement ‘to his standards’ or whatever.”  At that point the band teacher walked to the front of the room, and the conversation fell away as the boys’ minds shifted towards practicing for the fall recital.

-n-

“Seriously, what’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Hungry,” was the lie Corazon typed on his screen, before sulkily sliding his phone over to Law.  He’d already eaten their afternoon snack in its entirety, but no one ever batted an eye when someone his size claimed that they were still hungry.  Law was smart, he could do the math on base caloric intake; he’d probably believe it.  It was just…

Corazon couldn’t let go of the fact that even if he had Law all to himself today in the library, tomorrow he’d be in marching band practice while Koby and Helmeppo got Law time all to themselves.  And it didn’t matter that they were inexplicably terrified of Law’s passion for school, and it didn’t matter that Corazon still got lunch and gym class with Law without anyone else bothering them.  It didn’t matter because…because…reasons!

The pair of them studied in silence for a while longer, before Law pointedly closed his textbook and turned in his seat to face Corazon head-on. “If you’re that hungry, go and get something else to eat.  Otherwise cut it out.  I could power a wind farm from all the hot air you’re letting out with that constant sighing.”

Damn it, now he was annoying Law!  And it wasn’t even Corazon’s fault.  It was stupid Koby and Helmeppo, trying to buy their way into time with Law.  And if Law started wanting the money more than treats from Corazon…if Koby and Helmeppo eventually warmed up to Law and realized he wasn’t all that scary…

Thinking fast, Corazon typed another message onto his phone. “Do you want me to start paying for tutoring?” There!  A solution.  Doflamingo had told him to outspend other people in his personal quest for romance, and Doflamingo had a proven track record of getting people to laser focus on him with such techniques.  Maybe Corazon could start offering Law money for time together?  Law had said forty for the others, but Corazon could easily double that.  Maybe triple, if that’s what it took.

But Law was staring at the message in shock. “That’s what you’ve been worried about?!” he incredulously demanded. “You think I’m going to start charging you?!”

That…was not the tone of someone about to accept Corazon’s offer.  Maybe he should have been a little less direct?  Started with a natural segue, perhaps?  Taking back his phone, Corazon quickly explained, “You told Helmeppo and Koby to pay you for tutoring.  I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.” A-ha, there we go!

“Well obviously I’m going to charge those two chucklefucks,” Law grumbled; then belatedly added, “No offense to your friends.”

“Bandmates, not friends,” Corazon quickly distanced.

“Bandmates, whatever.  Look, I’m charging them because I’m their tutor, that’s it.  You and me…like…it would be weird to make you pay.  Like, half the time we’re not even tutoring, just studying in the same space.”

“You sure?  You should be paid for your work.”

Law was looking increasingly uncomfortable; but why?  “It’s not…look, helping you isn’t the same as tutoring them, ok?  You’re not like them.  Got it?  And you get us food anyway, so stop wasting time on stupid shit like that.  You’ve got a chemistry test coming up, and if you fail it because you’re wasting time on this garbage then I’m going to make you drill molar equations until your hands cramp.”

It was clearly a message to end their conversation, and Corazon heard it loud and clear.  Suddenly, it didn’t matter so much that Law was tutoring other people, because even though Law had called him a ‘pupil’ before, Law held Corazon in a separate category from his paying pupils.  Corazon really was special to Law!  The others were just customers, but he and Law were really friends!  Fine, then.  Other people could pay for the privilege of being in Law’s space, while Corazon got to enjoy spoiling Law with treats just because.  In fact…that gave Corazon a brilliant idea.

-n-

One week later, Corazon was up past midnight with about four dozen tabs open on his laptop screen and mounting frustration building up inside him.  The issue was, the end of the term was barely a month and some change away, which meant the end of their time in gym class and shared lunch was also at hand, which meant he and Law would go on holiday break and then come back to a school year where they’d only share afternoon tutoring together!  And spending less time together might make Law think he and Corazon weren’t that close anymore, and maybe he’d bond with other kids in his classes because after a whole semester of getting to know them, he’d find people he liked who were more consistently in his immediate vicinity and then someone else would steal the title of Law’s best friend before Corazon could claim it for himself!  Clearly, drastic measures needed to be taken.  And that meant finding the perfect holiday slash celebrating end of term present for Law.  But none of the options he’d clicked through so far seemed right!  God.  Corazon was starting to understand why Doflamingo liked to employ personal shoppers for occasions like this.

Clicking open another tab for a new store, Corazon scrolled through his options with increasing disdain for the offerings this shop had to present.  He needed something more than just a nice trinket Law would like; he needed something that would permanently cement their friendship!  Something which suggested that he knew and liked Law on a deeply personal level, and had paid enough attention to him to find the perfect gift, and could afford to pay more attention (and money) in the future to ensure that Law would constantly be showered in equally perfect gifts!  But the best he’d been able to come up with so far were presents that barely constituted “acceptable” or “adequate.”  Damn it, where was he going wrong?!

Possibly with the search criteria itself.  Law was something of a closed book to him with regards to personal interests or hobbies.  Corazon had deduced which classes Law liked best from the way he talked about them when they studied together, and Corazon knew what kind of coffee and baked goods he liked.  None of that really worked well with regards to purchasing an inarguably perfect gift.  There were always things like cologne, flowers, and jewelry he could fall back on, perhaps.  The kind of things that Doffy would buy for someone he was trying to romance; but Corazon didn’t think those were necessarily the right choices for Law.  Far too generic, for one thing; something that would only work if the person you were buying for didn’t care about the gift itself half as much as how much money you’d dropped to make the purchase.  Excellent if you were Doflamingo and trying to establish your willingness to drop obscene sums of money on a person if you considered it a “worthwhile investment”; less so if you were someone like Corazon who was trying to establish an interest in the other person’s hobbies.  Grand gestures had to wait until he’d officially asked Law to be his boyfriend, which would obviously mean that Corazon had reached the stage where he could buy Law whatever Law wanted.  This gift, this first proper gift, needed to make an impact with the heart, not the wallet.  Something perfectly tailored to Law’s preferences, something that would make him go ‘oh wow, Cora-san, you know me so well, please kiss me.’  What did they have in common?  Well, there was the studying, the note-taking, the trying not to flunk out while taking care of the greenhouse thing…

Corazon was giving up on his research of “listicles of top gifts for your boyfriend” and was about to take drastic measures (calling Doflamingo) when suddenly it hit him.  Quite literally, as a matter of fact.  He leaned back too far in his seat and tumbled backwards off the bed, head thumping against the ground.  Dazed, he reached for his bed and managed to catch the blanket and pull it down just enough for his gym uniform (laid out to be taken down for laundry) to smack him right in the face, still smelling fresh and earthy like the greenhouse.  He hardly registered the pain, though, because the answer was plain as day!  

Plants!  That was it!  Law knew so much about plants and their medicinal uses.  Despite his saying the info was just something he picked up, the way his face lit up when he had a chance to share his knowledge, alongside the excited tenor and fast-talking he’d engaged in made it clear his interest in botany was far from casual.  And so if Corazon were to do something with that information, not by giving him just a paltry bouquet but rather something focused on horticulture….oh, it was perfect!  Thoughtful, catered towards Law’s interests, and most importantly, it would be a specific callback to a unique moment shared just between the two of them.  Pulling himself to his knees, Corazon grabbed his laptop off the bed and settled on the floor to resume his search with renewed vigor.

-n-

Two hundred and seventy-three pages, including an index and full-color illustrations.  A leatherbound cover with the book’s title, The Beginner’s Field Guide to Domestic Horticulture and Herbology, Complete Edition, engraved on the front.  Guaranteed authenticity of it being a first edition, making it nearly two centuries old.  It was exactly what Corazon needed.  It didn’t matter that he spent a sizable chunk of his allowance paying for both the book and expedited shipping, it didn’t matter that he was probably going to have to field some very uncomfortable questions from his accountant soon regarding why he had suddenly taken up an interest in vintage books.  Corazon hardly ever had a reason to spend money.  He didn’t go out with friends, he couldn’t drive so he didn’t have that cost to deal with, and he didn’t (yet) have a boyfriend to take on fancy dates.  Sure there would be some questions when his parents saw the credit card statements, but it didn’t matter because he’d done it, he’d finally done it!  Law was going to have the perfect present, thanks to Corazon.

Still, he wasn’t necessarily surprised when his phone rang, right as he was settling in to watch one of his special animes, Pirate of Penz-ass (a rather risque story about true love conquering some rough seas).  He’d hoped he’d at least have a day to come up with a reasonable explanation that wouldn’t expose Law to the insanity of the rest of his family.  But given the hour, surely his account hadn’t noticed the charge to call him up personally.  And given that the parents would be out of internet contact for who knew how long…the caller could only be…

“Hey Doffy,”  Corazon sighed, snapping his laptop shut and resting back against his pillows.  All at once the high he’d been riding from picking the perfect gift faded and he plunged back to the reality of having to deal with his brother’s probing questions.  Best get it over with as fast as possible so he could go back to things that actually brought him joy.  “What’s up?” 

There was noise on the other end of the line, music and the faint rumble of distant voices.  Probably a party of some sort.  Good, that meant that Doffy wouldn’t want to talk to him for too long.  This was a phone call of obligation. “Corazon.  Would you like to guess where I’m at?”

“...a brothel?”

“Ahh, to have that kind of humor right now surely means you’ve not seen the recent activity on your bank account,” Doflamingo stated with slightly less performative charm than he typically used in public. “Well luckily for you, one of us actually pays attention to the alerts for potentially fraudulent activity attached to your credit cards.”

Oh no.

“Interesting purchase,” Doflamingo remarked. “It appears to be close to 500 belli processed through a vintage book emporium.  Hardly something I’d associate with you, dear brother; unless you’re trying to find some first edition bodice ripper-”

“It’s for a LARP!” Corazon blurted out.

“...what?”

“Yeah!  You kept saying I needed to get out of the house, so I found a roleplaying group,” Corazon lied at an ever-increasingly high pitch. “And they’re like, super strict about costuming, everything has to be period appropriate, so I went online and found something that seemed like the right era, damn the price, you know how that is-”

“Rocinante.”

“!”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Doflamingo purred into the phone. “Because we both know how you feel about socializing with and talking to complete strangers without the safety net my presence provides.  But since you’ve confirmed the book was a legitimate purchase on your part, why not give me the whole truth about why you’ve suddenly taken up an interest in ancient texts?  And don’t even waste my time pretending it’s meant to be a belated housewarming gift; I have all the vintage erotica I could possibly want, as you well know.”

Corazon took a moment to regroup, carefully weighing how much he wanted to reveal against his desire to keep Law hidden from his demented older brother. “It’s…ok, you know how mom and dad were worried about my grades after last year?  Well, I found a tutor.”  There, essentially true! “And it seemed like a good idea to thank him at the end of term, you and dad always say to make an employee know how valued they are!  So I…bought something I thought he’d like.”

“...really?”

“It’s a legitimate strategy!” Corazon argued as he leaned fully into the lie. “Like yeah, maybe this’ll be a case of him already having three copies of the book, but at least he’ll know the family values his services, right?  And that means he’ll put in a good word to not flunk me in other classes, right?!”

“You’re being suspiciously competent about all this,” Doflamingo remarked.

“Well maybe I don’t want to drag the parents home to have them shame me for flunking out of school,” Corazon snapped. “Which, as I’m sure you can guess, would also result in them shaming you for not keeping a closer eye on me.”

“I’m your brother, not your keeper,” Doflamingo argued. “I can only do so much to contribute to your success or failures.  Why should I bear the brunt of their frustrations for your shortcomings?” He let out a theatrically woeful sigh, and Corazon hated that he could perfectly picture the affronted look on his brother’s stupid face. “And really, Corazon, the scorn you’re leveling at me when I simply wanted to make sure your identity hadn’t been compromised!”

“Doffy, c’mon!  They’re about to start the body shots!” Pica’s voice squeaked out from somewhere in the distance.

“Uh-huh.  I can see I’ve really pulled you away from a life and death matter,” Corazon deadpanned.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Doflamingo concurred. “Shame, though.  I was half-hoping you were going to say it was some sort of bribe for your crush.  That’s the proper way into his heart, you know; pricey gifts around the holidays.”

“...”

“In any case, try to send me a picture of him.  I’ll find the right kind of gems and metals to match his skin tone; set you up with some proper options for jewelry.  We’ll have to pay a little extra for shipping this close to the holidays; but I’m sure his gratitude will be well worth it.”  And Corazon couldn’t think of anything else to say before Doflamingo ended the call, because what?!  Law, jewelry, what?!  Law…jewelry…body jewelry glinting against his tan skin, maybe a nice tennis bracelet or choker or something with a chain going down his front, maybe clamping onto his, his-!

Suffice to say, Corazon (along with his faithful box of bedside tissues) was rather occupied on his laptop with a variety of websites for the rest of the evening.

-n-

Fearing that papercuts might result in his bleeding all over the present, Corazon wisely chose to ask one of the maids to help gift wrap the book when it finally came in.  He was determined to give it to Law right away, but…circumstances kept delaying the gift-giving, shall we say.

If Law had been intense during midterms, he was downright vicious in the weeks leading up to finals.  Corazon was nearly brought to tears from the force of Law’s revisions and study guides; so much so that he dared not try to interrupt study time with the gifting of his present.  It wasn’t just him that was feeling the pressure either; both Helmeppo and Koby insisted that Law’s techniques were bordering sadism, with Helmeppo even falsely asserting that Law had deliberately scratched him with the edge of a poorly revised rough draft (which was ridiculous, if Law had a violent streak then surely Corazon would have seen it by now!).  But somehow they all made it to the end of the term, and Corazon actually walked out of most of his finals feeling like he’d done slightly better than merely scraping by, and then they were at their final gym class before winter break.

Due to their unique circumstances, the teacher simply needed to do a walkthrough of the greenhouse before the end of the semester.  Professor Heracles was there as well, and both men carefully studied the way the debris had been cleared out, the shelves straightened or tossed, depending on their condition, and the remaining plants not only beautifully displayed but also neatly labeled, courtesy of Corazon’s calligraphy. “Excellent job, boys,” was the final verdict. “You’ve more than met our expectations.  Consider this the last time either of you will ever need to take gym at Silvers.”  Corazon could feel the excitement radiating off of Law, but couldn’t quite summon the same feeling in himself.  This was really it, then.  The last time they’d share a class together.

The teachers walked off shortly after the inspection concluded, telling the boys to relax and behave themselves over winter break.  Law was practically giddy as he slumped against one of the shelves, smiling(!) at Corazon. “Nice job.  Couldn’t have asked for a better way to wrap this up.”

“...”

“Hmm?  Cora-san, what’s wrong?”

Thinking fast, Corazon typed a message on his phone and all but threw it at Law. “Will you still tutor me next semester?”

“Huh?  Oh…after school?  Yeah, why would I stop?” Law incredulously asked. “No offense, but I doubt your grades have so miraculously improved that you won’t need my help in the spring.  Not being in class together won’t change that.”

Corazon’s entire mood was immediately elevated by this assertion.  Law wasn’t going to abandon him and find someone else to be his best friend!  Corazon would just have to work doubly hard to keep Law’s focus on him after school.  To that end, he needed to make sure they finished the semester on a strong note.  He swiped his fingers across the screen again, this time informing Law, “I have something for you!”

“...ok?”

The gift weighed heavily in his backpack.  The last thing that he wanted to do was watch Law unwrap it, see the face he made when he saw what he’d be given.  If, after all the trouble and lies Corazon had gone through, Law laid eyes on the book and hated it, Corazon was certain that he would crumble into dust.  So much was riding on this one moment.  He wanted Law to know that he thought about him.  That he’d taken the time to find a gift that matched his interests.  It wasn’t just something that he’d run to a store and grabbed off the shelf last minute.  This gift was the embodiment of all of his feelings for Law, and though he didn’t expect Law to be able to untwist all of that from the book, it was a good start until Corazon could find his own words. 

Tucking his phone into his back pocket, Corazon picked his backpack up off of the shelf and avoided eye contact with Law.  The maids had done a wonderful job and the shiny, gold paper was perfectly folded and taped around the book with a white ribbon accenting it.  Corazon’s hands were so sweaty that the gift almost slipped right out of them as he lifted it from the back. 

Here you go, he wanted to say.

For you . 

Doffy would have a good line, Corazon was sure.  He would purr and coo and all around make the recipient feel like he was the “real gift,” not whatever he’d purchased.  Unfortunately, Corazon was not Doflamingo.  All he managed to get out was a pained, high pitched squeak as he shoved the book at Law.  Shoved a bit too hard, really, because the book thumped against Law’s chest and he stumbled back in surprise, barely managing to catch his balance before he and the gift both hit the dirt. “Wh–” 

Law’s question faded into the distance as Corazon flew out the greenhouse, running at a speed that would have made the gym teacher proud.  He didn’t stop when he got to the main building and booked it through the halls, through the exterior door and down the hill towards the front of the campus.  The familiar black family car was already waiting for him and, though he tore a hole in the knee of his pants thanks to a tumble on the sidewalk, he managed to throw himself into the back seat and bid the driver “drive!” before Law could catch up with him.  The driver (who’d been playing something on his phone while waiting for the school day proper to end), was understandably shocked to see Corazon manifest in his vehicle well before the end of the classes.  But ultimately he was on the Donquixote payroll; so when his employer said, “drive”?  He drove.

Corazon was heaving for breath as the car started up and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.  He was certain that if anyone had seen him in the hallways, his DenDenU account was going to be blowing up all winter break.  He was fairly certain that he might actually be bleeding from where he’d tumbled.  But even with these minor setbacks, he’d given Law the gift.  He’d proven his affections for Law, and when winter break ended he’d be confident enough to take the next step and verbally ask him out on another date.  Mission accomplished!

Chapter Text

This was not how Law planned to start winter break. Silvers gave their students exactly twenty-five days between the end of fall term and the start of spring semester, and Law had carefully plotted out how each and every minute of those days would be spent. The first day would involve sleeping in as late as possible, then staying snuggled in a blanket cocoon while catching up on “fun” reading, only emerging for sustenance or to use the bathroom. The next eight days would feature him reviewing his notes against the scores of his final exams, to pinpoint the weaknesses in his study guides and techniques from the first semester in the hopes of resolving them before the second half of the school year began, all while making use of the newish coffee machine Dadan had “repurposed” from the pawn shop. This analysis would occasionally be broken up by market research at the library for job prospects and reports on current standings for his top med schools.  

After this, he would then grant himself another day off for more reading, and possibly an excursion to another hotel to refresh the porn collection, weather prevailing. That would then leave five days to review the notes he’d bought off upperclassmen for next semester’s courses, one day to set up for and carry out Dadan’s holiday party and a second to recover from such a high amount of socializing ( because of which, he expected to allot no study time whatsoever for on either day), three days to review current admission standards for his top universities and plot out ways to fluff up his resume for admission to them, two days to get a head start on the readings for next term, two more days to relax and indulge in whatever suited his fancy, and one final day to meet with his guidance counselor. None of those days allotted for whatever Cora-san had (quite literally) thrown at him on the last day of school.

Law’s fingernail carefully traced over the taped edge of the wrapping paper, making sure not to accidentally tear it. It probably wasn’t a prank; if it was, Cora-san likely would have stuck around long enough to see how the joke played out, instead of running like a bat out of hell. Still, Law didn’t want to risk opening the gift, because then that would mean he’d been curious enough to investigate and would have to make a choice about either keeping the gift or trying to return it. Which was silly, when you thought about it for more than two seconds. Obviously the gift would have to go back to Cora-san. Law couldn’t afford to reciprocate, and so he’d need to return it instead, lest he end up owing the Donquixote family anything of material worth. But still…some stupid, juvenile part of Law couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of a present.

Dadan had tried to ask Law what he wanted for his birthday or the holidays in the nearly two years they’d been together; and Law had always carefully made sure his requests were things like shoes or a bookbag or color-coded multi-subject notebooks for school. Practical gifts. Things that Law wouldn’t lose any sleep over misplacing or losing if he, say, suddenly had to go to a new home and the previous foster parents didn’t particularly care to make sure all his trinkets or knick-knacks were packed up and the things they did find ended up lazily tossed into garbage bags and got broken so badly no amount of tape or glue could fix them, so Law had to throw them out anyway. Junk like that was just a distraction right now. Once Law was a doctor, he’d have the money to buy whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he’d keep those things as long as he liked. He didn’t need toys or trinkets in high school, when they’d only distract him or lead to worry and anxiety about their potential to be lost or damaged.

Fidgeting with the wrapping, one of Law’s nails accidentally caught on the paper and ripped it. Shit, now he couldn’t just hand it back! Well, maybe it would be easier if he opened the damn thing, thinking about it. This way he could make some excuse about having an extra…whatever it was, so thanks but no thanks, Cora-san. Bracing himself, Law found the edge of the paper and tore along it, finally opening the gift after fiddling with it all afternoon. It was…a book?

An old book, actually. Between the leather cover, the typeface on the front, and the smell of the pages as Law leafed through it, it was probably a few decades old at least. The pages were filled with detailed descriptions of various herbs and their common uses in both a household and medical capacity, broken up by incredibly detailed lithographs in full color. The title of the book proclaimed this to be, The Beginner’s Field Guide to Domestic Horticulture and Herbology, Complete Edition.

Law could feel the tension draining out of his shoulders as he turned the pages. This was probably something Cora-san had plucked off the shelves of his family’s library at random, hooking on the words “horticulture” and “herbology” before slapping some wrapping paper on it and calling it a present. He’d remembered their greenhouse chat and settled on something that could pass as one of Law’s personal interests. This wasn’t some expensive game system or priceless family heirloom that Law would have to re-gift in kind. With that level of care thrown into it, Law could get away with just about anything in the name of reciprocity. That being said, though…Law kind of wanted to read this book; something that would definitely take longer than the few fun reading days he’d allotted himself. Which meant keeping the book, which meant he still had to come up with some sort of return gift.

Sighing as he eyed his calendar, he made the bold choice to sacrifice one of his precious study days in the name of buying a gift for Cora-san. Best get it out of the way sooner rather than later; procrastination would only end up with the stress of present shopping looming over his head for the whole break.

-n-

“Dude, what kind of maid?”

Law could feel his eye twitching. “What do you mean, what kind of maid? Like, a generic maid! With a dress and frills and brown…ish hair?”

“Ok, but like the tits, man. Are we talking about them being out to here, or out to here?”

Law was ready to grab the scruffy-looking dropout behind the counter and hurl him through the store’s front window, tits out to there, jackass. He’d briefly pondered and percolated on exactly what kind of present to get Cora-san, based on the little bit of information he’d learned about the rich boy (entirely against his will, naturally). But aside from their shared classes and Cora-san’s obvious lack of hand-eye coordination, the one thing that stuck out to Law was a singular keychain attached to Cora-san’s backpack.

It was a figure of a tiny, chibi maid in a black dress with white apron and cap. She had brown (or maybe blonde?) pigtails and a bright smile on her face, like she was trying to forcibly cheer you up with her mere presence. Cora-san was always careful not to pull too hard on her while zipping or unzipping his bag open and closed, leading Law to believe that he had some sort of affinity to the character, whoever she was. And so it had seemed like a good idea to shop for this character at a nearby Crimi-core, a subset of Crimin geared towards teenagers which allegedly stocked the fashion, figurines, and other various and sundry merch for any and all major fandoms. 

Unfortunately, Law had grossly underestimated how hard it would be to narrow down a specific character with just the information his brief glances at Cora-san’s backpack had provided.

“Dude, you’ve gotta understand, the maid waifu type is super in right now,” the guy at the counter (stinking vaguely of weed and wasted potential) noted. “Like, every guy wants a mommy they can fuck for a waifu, but you can’t actually sell them on the hot mom archetype, they want that layer of plausible deniability, you know? So maids are the next best thing, man! And that’s why you’ve gotta give me more info. How old? Skirt length? Do you see panty in the anime or fan merch? Does it kinda look like she might be packing something else down there? That variation isn’t super popular yet, because studio execs are still hung up on outdated gender norms; but it’s getting there as more and more true connoisseurs of the genre realize that the spirit of maid-hood transcends such paltry qualifiers as sex, zodiac sign, or preferred panty cut.”  

“I-”

“Ooooh, that’s a thought! Is there a beach episode you remember? Swimsuit variants are a great way to narrow your options down, since discerning dudes are super particular about the one piece versus bikini look-”

“Actually, maybe I’ll just look around,” Law decided as he inched his way back from the counter. The clerk shrugged, immediately turning his attention to the customer behind Law who was ready to check out with several figurines and a shrink-wrapped body pillow tucked under his arm. Fuck, what had he gotten himself into here?

The shelves of the store seemed to stretch on for miles in all directions. Each display table was piled high with shirts, backpacks, novelty jewelry, figurines, and other paraphernalia to help one showcase a love of their favorite series. Law tried to act like he was casually inspecting the merch row by row as other shoppers came and went around him, seeming to know exactly where their preferred shows or novels were and picking out exactly the right thing without having to think about it. It wasn’t Law’s fault that he didn’t recognize any of these series; he had exams to study for and reports to write, he didn’t have time for every stupid show that came on starring Protag Forgettable and his harem of big-titty girlbosses!

By the third aisle, Law was ready to throw in the towel. He didn’t recognize any of these titles or characters. Hell, he didn’t even know what kind of gift he should get for Cora-san, even if he did somehow stumble across the right maid. What had he been thinking? Law didn’t know the guy’s shirt size, because “ridiculously overgrown giant” probably wasn’t a real size they printed onto clothing tags. He didn’t know if Cora-san had a desk or bookcase at home that he’d put trinkets on. And what if Law bought a figurine of the maid character and it was one Cora-san already had?! This was such a stupid idea. He should just head for the Binks in the middle of the mall and get a gift card there, and be done with it.

Just as he was turning down another aisle with the intention of cutting back towards the front of the store, he caught sight of a familiar set of pigtails. That was Corazon’s maid! He was sure of it. Or, at least he was 78% sure of it. The long, honey blond hair and rather modest maid outfit looked more similar to the charm on Corazon’s backpack than any other maid he saw. Plus even if she wasn’t exactly the right character, at least the artwork in that section had made something of an effort towards realism. Frankly, Law was starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed by series like, “My Girlfriend Can’t Hold Me Because I’ll Drown in Her Cleavage!” or “Make Me a Proper Household Servant, Boss!” which all seemed to showcase scantily clad women with breasts bigger than their head and waists so tiny they couldn’t possibly contain any internal organs. Good lord, if that's what counted as attractive these days then the straights were not OK. 

Edging around a display featuring a pink haired maid with rabbit ears and a strategically placed tea tray covering up most of her unmentionables, Law approached the Return to Whitegrove Estate display. Things seemed more formal and normal there. The maid (Rosemary, according to a tag), was mostly clothed in a knee-length black dress and frilly apron, upon which her folded hands rested as she smiled at the viewer. However, there was another woman with silvery blonde hair right next to her looking far more vampish, sporting a low-cut emerald green gown that showed off her ample cleavage partially hidden behind a folding hand fan. Giselle, a lady of the house, apparently. What kind of house that might be, however, Law dared not venture a guess about. Focus.

The pair of them were sold as a set, it seemed, as part of the “Master/Mistress and Servant” figurine series. Even if a quick glance at the price tag didn’t reveal that the duo were far out of his budget, he wouldn’t have been comfortable buying something like that for Corazon anyway. In addition to these two, there was a statue of a plainly handsome young man in fine dress that Law worked out was probably the love interest. Further along was a taller, more buxom maid with silvery-blue hair that seemed to fit the waifu stereotype a bit better than Rosemary. Ignore her, Law decided. There were plenty of other options here to pick and choose from.

Unfortunately, figuring out the series hadn’t done anything to make finding a gift for Corazon easier. Even with abundant choices (Law quickly realized that Return to Whitegrove Estate must be popular, given that it dominated nearly half this aisle), Law still wasn’t sure what Corazon would like. There were several different types of figurines in different poses, with outfits ranging from nurse Rosemary to frilly bikini Rosemary to sexy zombie Rosemary (which, what the hell). There was a little miniature tea set that would be even tinier in Corazon’s hands, inevitably leading to it getting crushed. He even found a branded feather duster for cosplay opportunities (at least according to the label, although given the amount of plastic packaging between the duster and the buyer, Law was pretty certain it was a fetish thing). The Binks’ gift card was seeming like a better and better idea with each passing minute. 

But then Law spotted two beaten up little boxes, their cardboard slightly squashed from being pushed back on the shelf and halfway hidden behind booster packs for the Return to Whitegrove Estate trading card game. On the front of each of them was a giant, shaggy yellow dog that looked like the lovechild of a bowling ball and an eye-seeringly blond mop, wearing a tiny little bow tie around its almost non-existent neck. Its tongue lolled out of a cartoony mouth stretched into a doggy smile, black beady eyes staring up at you with not a single solitary thought rattling around a skull that was surely nothing but fluff all the way down. Something about it made Law want to both pick it up for a cuddle and squeeze it so hard those stupid beady eyes would pop right out. What kind of dog was this?! Clearly it couldn’t hunt and didn’t appear to possess anything close to intellectual prowess, so it would make for a lousy guard dog. Did the creator understand anything about housepets?! This was an absolutely ridiculous creature that probably couldn’t last two minutes in the wild without someone having to pick it up and carry it around to save the beast from getting lost or drowning in two centimeters of water!

Inexplicably, it strongly reminded Law of Corazon.  

Before he could think better of it, Law picked up one of the boxes and began turning it over in his hands. A quick peek at the back revealed more figures of the same dog in various different poses, including one with it wearing a top hat and two that were blacked out and highlighted as rare. Blind boxes, then. Gambling for kids who were banking on the hope of getting their favorite version of the character, or spending enough money to get enough figurines that it wouldn’t matter if their favorite ended up in the pile. Each one was expensive enough that Law would never consider buying one for himself; but as a gift, they were cheap enough that he didn’t mind buying both of them for Corazon. There, reciprocity was taken care of. Now Law could leave the store and never have to put so much thought into maids again. 

-n-

“Hmm. Hmmmm…hmm.” Spoon in one hand and cigarette smoldering in the other, Dadan sat at a kitchen table all but covered by a thick layer of mixing bowls, spice bottles, and the remnants of various vegetables that had wound up in her chili pot. Her narrowed fixated on the spoon in her hand, glistening with the sample she’d scooped up seconds before. A black cat clock on the wall across from her tick-tock’d quietly, and the soft murmur of some sports game rattled tinnily from the radio set on the counter near the fridge. She smacked her lips thoughtfully, took another small bite from the spoon, and turned her attention towards Law. “More chili paste. Not hot enough yet, kid.”

Law nodded and scurried back to the stove, spooning out another half a teaspoon of chili paste into the sauce that bubbled on the burner. He carefully stirred, let it sit for a moment, and then gave it his own taste test, adding a small pinch of salt for good measure. Finally, he grabbed another spoon and returned to Dadan for another inspection. 

Pursing her lips, Dadan blew on the deep red sauce before downing the whole spoonful in one go. A strangled choking cough came from her, a singular tear welling up in her right eye and trailing down her ruddy cheek. She cleared her throat and smacked the spoon down on the table. “Damn, kid! That’s perfect. Lower it to a simmer now and help me cut up these carrots.” 

“Kay.” Law adjusted the temperature on the stove, recapping the chili paste before returning to the table and taking his seat across from Dadan. For several minutes he kept his eyes on the knife, the kitchen filled with the sound of sports commentary, the click of his knife against the wooden cutting board, and the slight creak of the chair as Dadan shifted while slicing her own vegetables. Two carrots in, Law finally worked up the nerve to speak, trying to make himself sound as casual as possible. “You know…I’ll be fine alone while you’re at the party. I know you want to have fun with your friends, so I can just stay here.” 

Dadan raised one thin eyebrow, examining him carefully as she puffed away. “Why? You got a party planned or somethin’? Maybe a hot date?” she asked.

Panic flushed through Law at the implication that he might abuse her home in that way. Trying to play it cool, he forced himself to continue chopping vegetables at the same pace, then answered, “Fat chance. You know how I feel about parties,” he assured her. Even as calm as his words were, his heart was still racing. The mere thought that he might do something against the rules was enough for some foster parents to want to return him. Dadan was a lot nicer than most of those people, if not a bit gruff, but you never knew where the line was. Law didn’t want to find it only after he’d crossed it; best err on the side of caution. “I don’t even have anyone to invite over.”

“What about that kid who invited you to the soccer game?” Dadan pointed out and…did she seem a bit hopeful? Why would she want Law to invite Cora-san over or throw an unapproved party? Was it a trap? No, she wasn’t the sort to play mind games. Maybe she wanted a close up inspection of the oddities that Silvers produced? Possible. But if that was the case, she had to be one of the weirdest fosters he ever had. 

“I…I don’t know his phone number so I can’t invite him over,” Law stated, cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden. Huh, weird. Maybe they’d actually put a little too much spice in the chili? Or perhaps he was getting sick. Wouldn’t that be nice; then he wouldn’t even need an excuse to skip the party. 

Dadan flicked her ashes from the end of her cigarette and shook her head. “Shame,” she remarked, and then shrugged her shoulders. One of her large hands landed against the table with a soft thump and she used it to leverage herself out of the chair. “Well little nerd, since you don’t got anything planned, guess you’re going to have to come to the party.”

“But-”

“Don’t fuss, you’ve got years ahead of you to become a miserable shut-in, get out and meet people while you’re still young!”

“I-”

“Besides, Makino would kill me if I left you here alone when there’s free food to be had. And she’s been looking forward to seeing you again.” 

Pouting, Law picked his knife back up and resumed his chopping. “She'll be too busy running the bingo game to even notice I'm there.”

“Oh! Thanks for the reminder, kid, gotta grab our entries.”

“You don't have to submit anything for me,” Law pled, even if he knew in his heart it would be to no avail. 

“Nonsense! Company holiday party means company bingo game,” Dadan firmly reminded him. “And the rule’s always been the prizes are half unclaimed pawn items, half junk you scraped together last minute, half white elephant gold.”

“That's three halves,” Law protested. 

“Tch, obviously. Always be prepared for someone to forget their entries and make up for it with something worse,” Dadan cautioned him. She puttered out of the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with several discreet gift bags clutched in both hands. “Now then. You wanna put your name on the canned prunes that'll expire next month, or the novelty erasers shaped like bird asses?”

-n-

Law didn’t understand the point of company parties. Why would anyone want to spend more time than absolutely necessary with their co-workers? Who wanted to see the guy who always lurked at the front counter get wasted and take his shirt off to show everyone his ‘sick dragon tat’ for the twentieth time? Especially when the ‘sick dragon tat’ looked like it had been done by some sketchy deadbeat who’d bought a used tattoo gun and worked out of his mom’s garage. Besides, based on the stories Law had heard from some of the older employees last year, at some point around a decade ago this company gathering had morphed into a pseudo-block party, so half of these people didn’t even work for Dadan! Not that she seemed to care, though. So long as you showed up with a poorly wrapped bingo prize and a dish or bottle of something for the refreshment tables, you were in.

By the time he and Dadan had finished setting out the plates and strategically placing the garbage bins around the parking lot (properly blocked off for the party, of course), there were already dozens of people ready to eat, drink, and be merry. It was loud and smokey in the pawn shop proper, and the outdoor heating lamps scattered around the parking lot were surrounded by people shivering and laughing as they talked and waited for the alcohol in their drinks to warm them up. The food table was awash with fried chicken, buffalo dip, and far too many green bean casseroles for anyone to ever eat in one night. And amidst these picnic tables and middle-aged workers and a concerningly high number of bingo prizes stacked up across the way, Law was alone.

Unlike Dadan, most of the other adults with kids had no issue leaving their teenagers home to meaninglessly scroll on their phones for hours; meaning the only kids present at the party were ones too little to be left on their own. In short, poor company for Law. Granted, even if someone his own age had been there, Law wasn’t really up for socializing tonight. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want to catch up on other people’s days or play the silly games or be perceived by anyone. Unfortunately, anonymity was not in the cards tonight.

Dadan had been a foster parent probably longer than Law had been alive. As such, whenever she brought a gangly youth along to the company party, everyone and their mother would immediately know their connection to her. This was usually followed up by people asking Law how school was going, any hobbies he had (which he was pretty sure was hopeful fishing to offload some items from the pawn shop on him), and things of that nature. Well-meaning attempts to make him feel welcome, probably; but they did little more than exhaust him most of the time. These conversations usually finished with someone making a comment about him being too scrawny, put some meat on your bones, kid, and then Law quietly promising to do just that before fleeing to the refreshment table. He’d get a couple bites to put on his plate, pretending to eat long after he was full, and then try to sneak inside and hide the remains in the company fridge for someone to find the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat, until he saw a familiar kerchief across the parking lot and fled to the safety of the one person at this party he could stand.

Salvation came in the form of Makino, a brunette woman setting up the bingo caller’s table. Law’s approach must have been a bit more conspicuous than originally intended, because she started giggling as soon as she caught sight of him. “You look like you’re running from the devil; or maybe just a very drunk Magra.”

“He’s not quite there yet,” Law muttered as he shuffled the rest of the way to the table. “Need help setting up?”

Makino was one of the pillars of this company party. Her bar down the block always provided the chairs and tables for bingo, as well as alcoholic drinks (for drink tickets, sold at a modest price for some charity, usually). Law had been to the bar with Dadan a few times while she was working and had to drop off something with Makino, with the sort of unlucky timing that meant he and Dadan always seemed to pop in on ladies’ night, given the lack of men anywhere in sight. Working at the bar, Makino almost always wore a red and white flannel shirt over a pink tank top, dark wash jeans, and kept her hair pulled back and covered by a colorful red, orange, and pink kerchief. The chill tonight meant she’d buttoned up the flannel, and even with a space heart going nearby he could see that there was a rainbow blanket draped over the back of one chair, just waiting for her when she took her seat to start calling numbers. “You all finished helping Dadan set up?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Makino laughed, either charmed or amused by the manners Law refused to relinquish in a space like this, where it would be so easy to tank his reputation. “In that case, would you like to stay and help me call numbers for a few rounds?”

“Uh...”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a microphone and everything set up, so you don’t have to shout,” Makino promised him. “My throat just gets tired calling the numbers and doing the trivia all night, so you’d be doing me a favor.”

“Uhm…”

“Law, there you are!” Dadan suddenly manifested behind him. “Did you get enough to eat, the desserts just came out of the fridge…oh. Makino! Hi!”

Part of the reason Law couldn’t fully trust Makino was the way Dadan reacted to her. She tended to stand ramrod straight, stumbling over her words as her palms sweated. Well, Makino was a bartender, at the end of the day. Presumably she had enough secrets and blackmail for everyone at the party to keep them on their toes with just a few words and a warning glance. An admirable skill set; but one that Law was decidedly wary of.

Right now, though, Makino was all smiles as she returned Dadan’s greeting. “Hey Dadan! The party’s amazing, as always!”

Dadan laughed too loud and too long at that. “Thanks! That’s, uhh, great shirt! Is it new?”

“Nope, same one I always wear to the holiday bash,” Makino corrected. “But thanks!”

“Oh! I, uh, right. Need any help?”

“Nope, Law was just about to volunteer to help me call out numbers this year,” Makino promised Dadan, thereby trapping Law at the bingo table for the rest of the evening.

“Really?” Finally Dadan’s eyes were on Law. “Good for you, kid. About time you showed a little holiday spirit! Hang tight, I’ll get you a plate of the mud pie, ok?” And before Law could protest that he’d already had plenty and seriously couldn’t handle another bite, she was off like a rocket.

“Hey.”

The gentle prompting had Law’s attention back on Makino then. “Look, I know that these parties can be a lot; there’s a reason I’m always behind the bar at events like this, instead of partying with the people on the other side,” she informed him. “And you looked like you could use a little breather. If you’re really not up for it, you can help me finish getting everything ready and then sneak into the shop’s break room once bingo starts. Sound good?”

Was it that obvious that Law hated these kinds of parties? But Makino didn’t seem to be scolding or judging him for his preferences. She was offering him a small island of safety in the middle of an increasingly rowdy gathering, with a way out if her solution wasn’t to his liking. And Dadan had to field the whole party and make sure no one set anything on fire or the cops got called because the laundromat owners were trying to duel the mini-mart folks down the street (again), but she’d still circled around to find him and make sure he was safe and fed. A lump welled up in his throat that he quickly smashed down; it didn’t mean anything long-term. There could be a fire or an accident or a collosal fuck-up on his part tomorrow that would see Dadan sending him packing. Don’t read too much into things. But maybe…just for tonight…

“Being here sounds much better than listening to Dogra’s drunk rants about city redevelopment projects and how they’re killing the community,” Law finally answered.

“Excellent! Here, you take the seat by the heater, I’ve got a blanket. Just a couple more minutes and then I’ll give everyone a reminder…why, hello!”

No sooner had Law taken a seat than a large, old, grey dog was waddling up to them. “Pochi!” Makino scolded. “Did you spoil your dinner by begging for treats off the guests?”

Pochi’s reaction was to shuffle under the table.

“I see. Well just so you know, mister, your diet is re-starting tomorrow! Goodness knows how many years that chicken grease took off your life!” Makino tutted.

Pochi flopped down onto the ground with the sort of blissful ignorance known only to dogs who’ve supped the finest delicacies for their evening meal, and have not a single care in their hearts beyond where they’ll sleep off such a wonderful dinner. In this case, Pochi sighed and rolled himself directly on top of Law’s feet, pinning the teenager in place. Well, that settled it. Law simply had to stay. After all, what else was he supposed to do? Move and risk disturbing Pochi? Absolutely not!

And so as Dadan brought him a plate of chocolate-y pie and Makino finished feeding the bingo balls into the dispenser, Law bent forward to scratch Pochi behind the ears, relishing the feeling of the heater against his legs. All right. Perhaps he’d make it through tonight somehow.

-n-

Law ended up calling numbers for all but the last few rounds, because Makino insisted he needed to at least play a little bit after working so hard. Law was quite happy not to be a participant in the evening’s madness, thank you very much; but they’d reached the point in the party where everyone was starting to think about heading home and no one wanted to take back the bingo prizes they’d brought, so Makino was ready to just keep calling numbers until everyone hit bingo at least once and got a prize out of it. This was how Law ended up with a disco ball made entirely of jelly beans, a few novelty Halloween candles in the shape of various body parts, and a pair of fuzzy slipper socks.

“Not a bad haul, kid,” Dadan remarked as they loaded the last of the food containers into the back seat. She herself had walked away with a jar of loose buttons, five pounds of saltwater taffy of questionable vintage, and a bright neon pink shirt that proclaimed her to be the ‘HBIC’ (something which the employees and guests had found so hilarious that the bingo game actually had to be stopped for a few minutes so they could get all their laughter and jeering out). “And the important thing is, we’re leaving with less crap than we came with. That should always be your goal for a holiday party, remember that.”

“Uh-huh,” Law quietly agreed. His eyes kept going to the little gift bag where he’d tucked away his prizes. The disco ball was going in the trash as soon as he could get it there, and the candles were fine, but the socks…the socks were covered in the smiling face of a certain white polar bear known as Bepo. Bepo was an incredibly popular cartoon character, starting out as an island explorer in a comic strip and then getting an animated series, and from there his popularity exploded until he was probably the most popular mascot out of the Zou Friends; animals that went on adventures and taught kids about love and friendship and all those other lessons parents wanted you to learn but didn’t properly teach. He was also, personally, Law’s favorite.

Law had been unspeakably grateful that the socks landed in his possession in a round where stealing wasn’t allowed. Granted, most people at that stage in the game were just trying to pick something from the pile so everyone could go home, but you never knew what prizes people would want for themselves. And Law…again, most of his toys had a way of vanishing after he got put in the foster system, and obviously he was too old to go out buying Bepo merch for himself. But if Bepo socks were to find their way to him…clearly that was another matter entirely.

As he and Dadan settled into the car, she glanced into her rearview mirror and sighed at the piles of plastic containers in the back seat. “Still ended up with more leftovers than I’d like. Hope you’re hungry, kiddo; I’d hate to see all this food spoil.”

Law wondered why she’d bothered packing all that food out to the car, then, instead of making her employees take it with them. But Dadan’s mind was a mystery, sometimes, and he didn’t want to make trouble by starting an argument after what had been, as it turned out, not the worst night in the world. Instead, he buckled himself up and began thinking about how he’d structure his study day tomorrow, fingers absently stroking along the fuzzy cuffs of the Bepo socks the whole drive home.

-n-

The end of break finally arrived, and with it came the guidance counselor meeting at school. Most of the school’s other advisors were meeting with students over computer or phone meetings, both of which would be difficult or impossible for someone in Law’s position; but Professor Wolf had agreed to Law’s request for a personal meeting without even batting an eye.  

Professor Wolf had been with the academy for years, and had learned to be flexible in that time. He was smart enough to always think three steps ahead when planning for school admissions, and had a proven track record of getting over 95% of his students into one of their top three schools. If anyone could help Law keep his head above the water long enough to strike out on his own, it would be this man. Provided he liked what he saw in Law’s permanent record, at least…

“Well it looks like you’re settling in quite nicely,” Professor Wolf remarked as he clicked through several screens on his computer. “Your grades are excellent, and your teachers have been impressed with your work so far. And I’ve even heard tale from Ms. Nico that you’ve taken to tutoring a few classmates after school.”

“The handbook encourages study groups among students,” Law pointed out as he prayed Prof Chaka hadn’t looked into the tutoring far enough to realize Law was running a small business.

Judging from the smile on Professor Wolf’s face, no he had not. “Relax, Olvia means it in a positive light. Frankly, I think she’s just happy to see someone using the library to study, instead of trying to download porn on their phone.”

“...”

“On a different note, you’re still planning to go to undergrad in either the Sakura Kingdom or Mariejois, with Arabasta as your third choice?”

“Absolutely,” Law confirmed.

“In that case, I’d say we’re at the point where you could start padding your resume with a few extra activities. Tutoring is a strong start, especially given that you started the group yourself; or even if you didn’t, that’s what we’re going to put on paper. But we’ll need to get at least a few more extracurriculars; something to make the admissions team really stop and look at what you have to offer.” He leaned back in his chair and hummed thoughtfully. “It’s a little late in the year to join a lot of clubs, but you’re not completely shut out of everything. Any hobbies or interests? I might be able to think of something if you give me a little time.”

“That’s all right. I can talk to some people in class,” Law lied. Shit, wasn’t it enough that he didn’t strangle his classmates on a daily basis, now he had to be social with them outside of school hours too?! Damn it. This semester was going to suck.

Chapter Text

Now was the moment of truth.  The moment Corazon had been dreaming about almost the entire winter vacation.  He stood outside the library door, a bag of snacks from the cafe dangling from one arm and his hands wrapped so tightly around their drinks that he was in danger of popping the lids off and sending twin volcanoes of coffee spurting all over himself.  Today was the first day of the spring semester, which also (and far more importantly) meant it was the first day Corazon would get to see Law in over three weeks.  Presuming, of course, that Law was actually in the library after school.  Don’t worry about that, he told himself.  Don’t consider the possibility that Law had changed his mind on his promise, or decided to meet somewhere other than the library, or any other negative outcome that meant he’d opened the door and Law wouldn’t be sitting there at their usual table.  Because if that actually happened…Corazon didn’t know what he would do, but he was pretty sure tears would be involved, at the very least.  A miserable finale to what had otherwise been a pretty nice break from school. 

The night before, Corazon had been so excited to go back to school that he couldn’t sleep.  He’d had a great vacation watching TV, catching up on all his online novels, and even taking a little mini-vacation to Doran’s, the all-inclusive spa resort that his parents had traditionally frequented when they needed space to relax and unwind.  But the whole time his thoughts kept drifting back to Law, and how much he was looking forward to seeing him once school was back in session.  Coffee just wasn’t the same without a sexy little nerd scolding him for misplaced punctuation while he sipped his drink.  He missed Law, badly; but due to his own lack of planning, there was nothing he could do about it until he came back to school after winter break finished.

Corazon had spent the first half of the break kicking himself for not working harder to make sure that Law had his contact info before they parted ways.  Like yeah, Law didn’t give off the vibe of someone who spent their days on DenDenU or any other social media; a suspicion which was confirmed after Corazon spent a perfectly reasonable number of hours searching different handles on DenDenU containing any variation of Law’s name he could think up, coupled with general searches of other students’ accounts in the hopes that Law might make a surprise appearance and be tagged in a picture.  No luck on that front, sadly.  But surely, even if he didn’t care to make a SnappeDen account for his pictures or keep up with his classmates on DenDenU, he should at least have a phone number Corazon could text!  And as a direct result of that, if Corazon had his number, then he could have texted Law and suggested they meet up during the break.  Three whole weeks of low stakes hangout time, gone!  Somewhere out there, there was an alternative universe where Corazon did get that phone number and would have made so much progress that by this point in the school year, alt!Corazon would be able to speak to Law and ask him out and they’d be boyfriends.   Stupid overachieving alternative self…

Deep breaths , Corazon reminded himself as he refocused on the present, and the coffee cups that were clutched in his hands.  Small, careful steps.  No tripping.  No spilling.  He hadn’t seen Law in a few weeks; maybe that was enough time for Law to forget how much of a disaster Corazon was.  Start off today with a good impression; no more coffee dumped on his crush!  The groundwork for a better relationship had been laid last semester, and now was the time to build upon it.

Moving slowly, Corazon pushed the door open and stepped into the library while holding his breath.  The first thing his eyes landed on was the table where they always sat, several books already spread across it.  The second thing was Law, hunched over his books and wearing the same white, spotted hat as always.  The prick of tears burned at the back of Corazon’s eyes as a rush of air escaped him.  Corazon didn’t know how it was possible, but Law had gotten even more gorgeous during the break.  Without thinking he took a step forward, the sole of his shoe catching on an uneven bit of flooring, and he barely managed to stop himself from falling.  By the time Law glanced up at him, he was steadied and able to offer Law a smile without dropping everything and falling over.  Excellent.  A smooth recovery topped off with what he hoped was a charming smile. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come here and show me your schedule for this semester?”  Law asked, raising a brow at Corazon as he tapped the end of his pencil against the notebook he was writing in. 

“!!!”  Corazon scurried over, making it to the table with nary a drop of coffee spilled and not one table overturned.  He put everything down in front of Law, proud of himself for his personal growth…only to have all that progress ruined when his attempt to sit down missed the chair entirely and he ended up landing square on his ass.  But in his defense, Law was…Law had…there was an earring!  A little gold hoop in his left earlobe, just dangling there and glittering in the fluorescent light like it was trying to hypnotize Corazon!

“Cora-san?” Law asked, probably more than a bit confused, given that if Corazon could make it as far as the table, there was usually a very low likelihood that he was going to trip in the home stretch. “You ok?”

Corazon could only point to his own earlobe as he stared at Law.

“Huh?  Oh.”  Law flushed, eyes darting to the side as he realized what Corazon was looking at. “I thought it’d be smart to get it done over break, in case it got infected and I needed a couple days of antibiotics.”

“...”

“There’s nothing in the handbook that says I can’t have an earring.  Got a problem with it?”

Yes, Corazon very much did because that little piercing was begging for him to bite it and suck on the metal and nibble on the ear around it and damn it, the library was a terrible place to pop a boner, Doflamingo had taught him that much!

Desperate to do damage control, Corazon whipped out his phone and quickly typed, “I like it!” accompanied by every sparkler, hand clap, firework, thumbs up, and praise emoji he could find, before jamming the phone into Law’s space as he kneeled on the floor.  And then, once Law had a grip on the phone?  Corazon added a few hand signs of his own, including two thumbs up and a (very quiet) golf clap.

Law full on stared at the phone for a solid minute, before shoving it back to Corazon. “Ok.  Well.  As long as you’re not going to be weird about it.  Anyway, thanks for the meal, now let me see your writing homework so we can keep you from falling behind already.”  At that point, Corazon was able to scramble into a chair (while pointedly keeping his eyes on his snacks and not Law’s person) and they settled into the study session.

Some time later, Law muttered, “Oh wait, hang on,” and then began digging in his bag.  Thank goodness, too, because Corazon needed a moment to give himself a pep talk about focusing on their study sessions, and not how badly he wanted to maul that cute little earring.

Corazon really didn’t understand how he was supposed to be focusing on books and papers and all that nonsense when Law had decided to attack him so personally on their first day back.  What was next?  Law showing up with two piercings?!  He’d die, surely.  Why did the universe have to be so cruel?  Corazon’s grades had improved with Law’s help, and he’d even passed all of his finals (not with flying colors, true, but a pass was a pass), but all that progress and personal growth was clearly for naught because Law had somehow gotten even hotter over break, and it was only a matter of time before this hotness outright melted Corazon’s brain.  It was just unfair.  

Corazon grabbed one of the chocolate croissants from the bag, taking a sad bite out of it.  Why was the universe so determined to ruin any chance of his developing successful study habits?  Law wouldn’t like him anymore if his grades went down again.  Law would think that he failed as a tutor, when really it was Corazon and his weak will that had failed.  Then Law would never want to talk to Corazon again and he would stop showing up to the study sessions in the library and they didn’t have a single class together anymore or lunch and Corazon would never get to see Law.  All because of that stupid ear–

“Here.”  Law plopped two boxes onto the table, sliding them across to Corazon.  “You got me something so it’s only fair that I get you something back.  I think you like the show, Return to Maid Grove or something like that?” 

Corazon reached for his phone, intent on remembering his manners and advising Law that he didn’t want anything in return because that’s not what gifts were about, but before he could do that he caught sight of just what Law had set in front of him and accidentally inhaled his current bite of croissant.  “Huuuuu.”  A choking, wheezing sound escaped from him, followed by a coughing fit that brought tears to his eyes. 

 Law pushed away from the table, half standing up and reaching towards Corazon.  “Oh fuck.  Should I go get someone or–” 

“Huuuuu!”  Another wheeze and Corazon shook his head, thumping his curled fist against his chest.  Sure, he was choking, but it wasn’t even like proper choking.  Not like that time he tried to eat a whole slice of pizza in one bite and nearly passed out and only survived because Doflamingo and his friend Pica kept hitting him on the back until the bite went down. 

It took several moments for him to calm down enough to take a drink, and a bit longer before he was calm enough to wipe his eyes and grab his phone with a shaking hand.  And even then all he could manage to type was one word, all in caps. “WINNIE!”

He pushed his phone towards Law, then curled forwards and pulled the boxes towards him eagerly.  Winston, a.k.a Winnie as Rosemary called him, was Alfred’s dog in all adaptations of Return to Whitegrove Estate.   He was first introduced in the fox hunting plot; one of the early arcs that acted more as a functional establishment of universe rules than providing entertainment to the audience.  Within that arc, Alfred’s father wanted his son to select a personal hunting dog before the family’s annual fox hunt.  Alfred deviated from other nobles in several ways, and a secret disdain for the fox hunts was one of them.  To that end, he’d been trying to drag out the selection as long as possible, going through each and every dog the breeders were showing off; including ones meant to function more as lap pets for ladies or nannies for small children.  

While browsing all these gorgeous dogs, Alfred had found Winston: a roly-poly little mop of a puppy, bright blond and full of curiosity who seemed far more interested in rolling around the flowers more than chasing other animals.  Alfred had taking a quick liking to him; naturally, this caused his father to fly off the handle and go off on the first of (what would become) recurrent tirades about what sort of standards and behaviors were expected of men of the upper crust; standards which did not include dogs ill-suited for hunting.  Little Winston, scared by all the shouting, ran away and hid himself in a flower bed.  There he stayed until he was found by sweet Rosemary when she took out the trash.  Feeling sorry for him, she gathered him up and took him to the kitchens for a treat.  Later, after searching all over for the dog and finding him in the kitchens at last, Alfred gave her the dog, under the thinly-veiled excuse that the maids’ quarters were quite far from the rest of the house, and so if anyone should try to break in and harm Rosemary or the other girls, Winston could at least alert the rest of the household to the danger.

It was a beautiful story arc and Corazon always cried anytime he re-read it.  Winnie wasn’t the most popular of characters from Return to Whitegrove Estate (Crepe, a klutzy but well-endowed maid who was little more than cheap fanservice, usually always got first place in favorite character polls) but Corazon absolutely loved anytime the dog showed up, especially when they dressed him.  He’d heard of the Winnie blindboxes, and he’d even tried to buy some online when they first came out, but the first run (which contained the variations he really wanted) had been quick to sell out.  Yet now he had two of them, and they came from Law, which was just…

Corazon narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, glancing up at Law.  He motioned for his phone back, typing a quick message.  “How did you know I like this series?” Corazon knew they’d never talked about it.  That was definitely something he would have remembered. 

Law shrugged his shoulders as he picked up his drink.  “I dunno…you have that little…maid on your bag and I just asked someone about it,” he mumbled, fiddling with his cup absently.  He was avoiding eye contact, staring towards a point right above Corazon’s shoulder like that was the most interesting spot he had ever seen.  “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure that was the right one or anything.  There are so many maids.  So.  Many.” 

Corazon nodded.  “Maids are in right now.”

“Ugh.  Don’t remind me,”  Law said, crinkling his nose up in a manner that was cute enough to make Corazon want to kiss him.  “Now c’mon.  Let’s get back to studying.”

Law started to grab at Corazon’s notebook, but was stopped when Corazon dropped his hand down on top of it and shook his head somberly.   He had received a gift from Law, a gift that had to do with random chance, and he wanted to open them with Law.  It was important.  (He was very deliberately avoiding remembering how he’d given Law his gift).  “Blind boxes first.”  

“We really don’t have to do that,”  Law said, looking up towards the ceiling, down towards the floor, and then back to the table where he folds his hands on top of his own notebook.  “We already wasted a lot of time and I really need to see all your syllabi so that we can work on your study plan…” 

“Blind boxes first.  I want to see what we get from them.”  Corazon shoved his phone right under Law’s nose.  He understood how much studying meant to Law, but on this point he would not be swayed.  Law seemed to catch on to this, because he finally sighed and gestured towards the boxes.  And with that, Corazon dove in.

Corazon had perfected the art of opening blind boxes.  First he felt the weight of each of them in his hand, but there wasn’t really any difference.  Winnie was a hefty creature to begin with, so weight didn’t really help Corazon make a guess as to which one of the Winnies rested in each box.  Next he shook each one carefully and listened.  Also not very helpful for the same reason as the first action.  Then he used his thumbnail to tear the tape on each box, freeing the black plastic wrapped Winnie inside.  But he didn’t tear them open just yet.  Oh no, no, no.  He felt each of them through the packages, delighted to find that they were encased in a hard plastic shell so he couldn’t tell what they were by touch alone.  He ended his preliminary inspection without being able to reach any solid conclusion.

A glance up revealed that Law was watching him with his brows furrowed and Corazon responded with a big smile and a thumbs up.  Law rolled his eyes, cheeks a bit pink, and he slumped in his seat, fiddling with the hoop through his ear.  Oh…oh no, that was so cute and hot and sexy and Corazon frantically turned his attention back to the packages in front of him.  No!  Bad Corazon!  Bad little Corazon!  He was trying his hardest not to get hard, because the last thing he wanted was for Law to think he was some kind of library pervert.  No one wanted to date a library pervert! 

Distraction time.  

Corazon selected one of the two black bags at random, tearing the top off and dumping the figurine into the palm of his hand.  An instant smile spread across Corazon's face and he showed his new Winnie to Law.  The round ball of pooch was wearing a top hat with a matching bowtie, monocle, and little cuffs on his chubby legs.  Corazon knew exactly which story this Winnie came from.  While Alfred attended a soiree thrown by his cousin, Winnie attended an animal equivalent with a number of other nobles’ pets.  Some people found it to be a filler story and complained about it doing little to advance the overall plot, but Corazon loved pretty much any story featuring the animals of Whitegrove Estate.

“Is that…a good one?” Law asked.

Corazon nodded eagerly, setting it on the table with pure reverence.  He would treasure this Winnie forever.  He was already thinking of where he should put it when he got home.  On one of his collectable shelves?  Or should he put it in his special, secret box?  Maybe the box for everyday safekeeping, and then when he invited Law over he could put it out so Law knew that he loved it.  Perfect idea.  A treasure for himself that he would only share with Law.

He moved to the next bag, tearing it open and gasping as he dropped the figurine into his hand.  Not only had Corazon not gotten a double, he’d actually gotten one of the super rare Winnies!  A red bow was around the spherical pup’s semblance of a neck with a rose tucked into it, and his mouth carried a heart-shaped chocolate box.  This particular Winnie wasn’t from any of the actual main stories; rather, there had been a short comic released about two years ago where Winnie got caught up in the middle of a romance between two of the horses in Whitegrove’s stables, eventually ending with a romantic dinner for the animals as the stablehand and a random scullery maid shared their own romantic evening.  Corazon always got the sniffles at the sight of Winnie trotting back and forth between the two horses to bring them gifts. 

Corazon ran his thumb across the tiny red bow, and then held the figurine out towards Law with a smile.  It might not have been a duplicate, and it might have been a super rare one, but he didn’t even need to think about it to know that he wanted Law to have it.  The silly dog, laden with romantic gifts, said a lot of what Corazon wished he could physically convey to Law. 

“Uh…huh.  So that’s also a good one?”  Law asked.  He made no move to take it. Not even when Corazon stood up and leaned even further across the table, shoving the figurine towards him more purposefully.  Law blinked at him.  “Yeah, I see it.” 

“Hmph.”  Corazon puffed out his cheeks, letting out a loud huff and setting the figurine in front of Law.  He snatched up his phone, typing quickly.  “For you.” 

Law’s brow furrowed as he read the message and he frowned.  He looked up at Corazon, expression very much saying that he thought he’d gone crazy.  “No.  It’s for you.  That’s what a gift is, yeah?  For you.” 

Corazon shook his head and rolled his eyes at Law.  Obviously he knew what a gift was.  He’d given Law this Winnie with that in mind, and if Law ever tried to return it to him, he would probably cry or go drown himself in the swimming pool or something equally as dramatic.  “I keep one.  You get the other.  It’s only fair since they’re two of them.” 

“But–” 

Corazon tapped at the message for emphasis before taking his phone back to write more.  “Please?  I want you to have this one.  ‘Cause we’re friends.”  He combined that with several pleading emojis, doing his best to mimic them with his own face.

Law’s lips pursed together and he glanced at the silly little dog figurine and then back to Corazon.  “I don’t even know what series this is.  I won’t appreciate it as much as you do.  It’s better off with you keeping it.  I bought it for you.” 

There weren’t many arguments that Corazon wasn’t willing to let Law win, but this one.  He wanted Law to have it, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.   A point that he stressed by repeatedly shaking his head and retracting his arms as far from the figurine as they could go.

“Tch.  Fine.  I’ll take it okay?  If it’ll stop you from pouting so that we can start on our homework…”  Law’s tone bordered on scolding and Corazon grinned, starting to pull his books out of his bag and laying them out under the watchful eye of his Winnie.  Matching romance accessories!  He could hardly believe the progress he’d made in just one afternoon!

Suddenly Law’s hand was in his face, snapping his fingers.  “You got a copy of your spring semester schedule today, yeah?” Law asked, trying to get them back on track.  When Corazon nodded, Law flattened his hand and curled his fingers towards himself in a clear ‘gimme’ motion. “Let me see what you’re taking, then.  It’ll be easier for me to plan out our study sessions if I know what to expect.  Fuck’s sake, this shouldn’t be so hard to do…”

Corazon slid his list over, feeling his heart sink at the sight.  Six periods plus lunch and homeroom every day, and not a single bit of that time was spent with Law.  They didn’t even have the same lunch this semester!  And Corazon had been so close to working up the nerve to buy Law lunch, too.  Really, he had.  Really, the offer would have happened super soon.  Really!

Law studied Corazon’s schedule and then jotted a few things down in his notebook. “All right, I’ve got the general picture.  We’ll try to keep to three days a week…unless…I know band’s still going, when do the rest of the clubs restart?”

“This week, except the theater because they were working through winter break,” Corazon typed out.  And he’d know, too; you could only take so many lunch breaks during winter band camp in the hallway before you learned which places to sit were downwind of the paint fumes from freshly built and decorated sets.

Law quietly processed this information. “Any of them taking new members?” he asked. “Or at least, that you know of.”

WHAT?!  Law, clubs, what?  Where had this come from?!  Law hadn’t said a single thing in the fall about wanting to join any clubs last semester!  And with all his tutoring, when would he have had the time?!  Something must have changed over break.  Or maybe…maybe there was a new classmate of his that had mentioned some kind of club, and Law wanted to spend more time with him and was fishing for info on late admissions to school organizations?

Wary, Corazon hurriedly typed out, “Depends.  What groups are you looking at?”   Name the people and their price, and they’d be Corazon’s by the end of the week.

“Uhh…” Law couldn’t quite meet his eye, and began fiddling with the Winnie in front of him.  Shy Law?!  Oh, it was true!  It was another boy!  How dare Law fiddle with Winnie while thinking of another man, that was practically cheating! “That’s…I don’t really know.  My counselor just…I’m not going to get into a decent undergrad program, never mind med school, if all I do is read books and write good papers,” Law concluded. “The competition’s too stiff, especially at my top choices.  So I need a bulletproof resume.”

Oh.  Well, that was a different matter entirely!  Corazon felt like an idiot, of course Law wouldn’t be so foolish as to chase after some subpar orc of a classmate, he was too smart and goal-focused to be misled by a handsome face and a pair of biceps!  Or thighs.  Or whatever Law was into, Corazon hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to go fishing for those particular details.

“Look, if you don’t know, that’s fine, just forget I said anything,” Law suddenly stated. “I’ll figure it out.  You’re probably busy with band, nothing else.”

Oh no no no, Corazon couldn’t risk losing a chance to find some way to make up his time with Law this semester!  Quickly, think of something that Law would like!  Gardening club?  Was that a thing?  Workshops on how to be a more effective tutor?  No, Corazon might actually die then.  C’mon brain, work out something!

Law’s fingers brushed against Winnie again, and an absolutely insane idea bubbled up in Corazon’s brain. “I do book club!” he typed out on his phone and shoved it so hard towards Law he practically lost his grip and threw it.

Law nearly dropped the phone as he tried to catch it; and then he blankly stared at the message for several long minutes, clearly struggling to process. “You do book club?” he finally asked in a tone so incredulous Corazon was very nearly offended.

“Yes!  We pick a book every month and read it, then discuss it afterwards!”   This was technically true; allowing for Corazon using “we” in the royal sense, and that discussions afterwards were usually held on forums critiquing or praising the author’s various choices in their most recent volume, alongside links to the spiciest fanfics that had been updated to be canon compliant, as far as the smut would allow for.

Chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully, Law leaned back in his chair and fixed Corazon with a stern, penetrating gaze.  It was the kind of look that made Corazon want to crawl out of his chair and over to Law, settling down at his feet and doing whatever Law demanded of him…that was probably a feeling he should unpack.  But later.  When he wasn’t trying to fabricate a club whole cloth in under two minutes just to make his crush happy. 

“How many people?”  Law asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“It’s a really small club.”  He knew enough about Law to know that he wouldn’t want to be in a club with a ton of people, which worked for Corazon, because he didn’t want to share Law with anyone else. “And this month is the book I picked.” 

Law tapped his fingers against the table, frowning in thought.  “I guess book club would be…well, it’s one of the least objectionable clubs to join,”  he concluded.  There was no doubt that he was reluctant, but it was easy to ignore that when Corazon was too busy plotting how to make this work.  A book club with just the two of them?  Oh, he had plans on how to turn this into the perfect recipe for romance.  Start out easing Law in, pick something romantic.  Law said he wasn’t familiar with Return to Whitegrove Estate , so the first volume would be a perfect pick.  From there he’d let Law choose, giving Corazon a little more insight into his personal preferences.  And then, each time it was Corazon’s turn to pick, he’d find something slightly more risque (and gay) than the last time.  What other way was there to make it clear to Law that he was interested in him?  It was foolproof! 

“Who’s in charge of the club?” Law finally sighed, slumping in his chair.  “I guess I can go sign up tomorrow before class starts…” 

“I’m the head of the club, I can take care of everything!” The one good thing about not being able to speak to Law was that it was much easier to tell a little fib.  He didn’t have to worry about his voice betraying him and Law wasn’t playing close enough attention to notice his hands shaking. 

“Seriously?  Ok…what are the fees?”

“Nothing unless you have to buy the book,” Corazon fibbed.  Or actually, did it count as fibbing because there weren’t actual club dues (since the club was just now formed)?  Probably not, since he wasn’t going to try and stretch the lie enough to suggest they’d do field trips or anything.

“...ok.  Sign me up for book club, then.”  And then, in a move that was clearly meant to cut off further socializing, Law snapped up Corazon’s literature notebook, opened it to the most recent page, and immediately began berating Corazon for his failure to summarize information with proper bullet point formatting.  Things were truly back to normal.

-n-

By the end of the week, after putting everything that made him a Donquixote to work, Corazon had managed to form an official book club at Silvers Academy.  There were two members, no membership fees, and one of Corazon’s favorite teachers was officially sponsoring the club.  Corazon was 90% sure that the only reason he had agreed so easily was because he felt sorry for Corazon’s lack of friends and…well, basically everything else about the kid.  No matter.  He’d agreed to be the faculty advisor, and that was all Corazon needed from him anyway.  Now, Corazon was going to get to spend even more time with Law after school.  

Corazon practically vibrated his way into the library after school the next Monday, spilling coffee on the tips of his shoes and on more than one spot of the floor.  There was a sign up sheet for the Rayleigh Silvers Literary Society in his bag, along with a special copy of their first book that he wanted to give to Law.  Part of him was beginning to suspect that Law might be onto something with his claims that Corazon really could be doing much better in school if he’d just apply himself a bit more; but then again, maybe the fault lay with his teachers for not being Law. 

As Corazon slipped into the seat across from him, Law looked up and propped his chin on the palm of his hand, those pretty eyes half-hidden by dark, long lashes.  For a brief second the sight of him was too much for Corazon and he half-stumbled, half-fell into his chair, spilling some of his own iced caramel and vanilla coffee across his knuckles.  “What’s gotten you smiling like that?” Law asked, reaching for the paper bag of treats and grabbing a handful of napkins for Corazon. 

You , is what Corazon would have said if his tongue was remotely capable of working around Law.  But alas, he could never be that smooth.  He accepted the napkins, wiped his hand off, and then grabbed his phone to message Law.  “I have the book club sign up sheet for you and I already  told the advisor.”

“Oh…cool.”  Law answered, and was Corazon dreaming or was that even the faintest, tiniest, smallest, itty-bittiest hint of a smile directed at him?  Oh his poor heart struggled with all the blood needed to pump it as hard as Law made it beat.  “Thanks, Cora-san.  That makes things a lot easier for me.” 

Corazon would do whatever it took to get Law to look at him like that again.  The slight softening of the eyes, the little tilt of the head…it was the most precious gift that Corazon had ever received and from that point forward, it was the only thing that mattered.  That and school because he was pretty sure if his grades dropped again, Law would kill him and then Corazon would only see that smile if he refused to move on to the afterlife and instead haunted Law. 

“I got you a copy of this month’s pick,” Corazon stated, setting his phone with the message down in front of Law and rummaging through his backpack to produce one (out of many) of Corazon’s own copies of Return to Whitegrove Estate, volume 1.  It wasn’t his special edition, imported version with the fancy foiled edges, but it also wasn’t the well worn and creased copy that he’d written all over.  This copy of Return to Whitegrove Estate fell nicely in the middle of his collection.  It was paperback (not mass market) with a simple, understated cover that showed a silhouette of Whitegrove Estate’s front gates with the title written in a lovely font across the top.  There were a few illustrations of scenes from the book between the chapters, and Corazon had very carefully, with a sparkling gold ink, written For Law on the first page.  He’d even been a little risky and put a tiny heart right next to Law’s name.

Holding the book in both hands, Corazon presented it to Law with a beaming smile that crinkled up the corners of his eyes so much he almost couldn’t see Law in front of him. 

“What did you do this for?” Law asked, his eyes narrowing.  He picked up the book, but didn’t put it away and didn’t bother to page through it.  “I can grab the books from the library, I don’t need a handout.”  An edge of ice crept into Law’s voice.

Corazon fumbled for his phone in panic.  He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he was going to correct it as quickly as possible.  “It’s my favorite novel!  I have a lot of copies and I wanted to give you one.  If you like it you can keep it.  If you don’t, I’ll take it back.”  He made his eyes big and after he set his phone in front of Law.

“Tch.” Law turned away, tossing the book in his bag and setting it back at his feet.  “Ok.  C’mon, you have that essay due by the end of the week and you need to rewrite it.” 

Corazon’s smile returned and he started to unpack his bags when he heard a quiet, “Thank you” grumbled from Law.  Huh.  This was the second time Law had had something of an unexpected reaction to getting a gift from Corazon.  Why was that?  Maybe Law was from one of those families where people only gave you presents to make up for something shitty they did already or were planning to do in the near future; or maybe gifts always came loaded with the expectation that you’d have to pay back the person in kind for their present.  A lot of families at Silvers were like that.  The only thing Corazon could do was try to show Law that presents were just like their after school snacks; namely, something Corazon paid for because he wanted to.  Well, Corazon would just have to persist in his gift-giving.  After all, how long could Law go on refusing to accept presents from him, really?

Chapter Text

Close to a hundred pages into the first volume of Return to Whitegrove Estate, Law was struggling to see why Cora-san was so enamored with the book.

There was nothing wrong with the story, to be perfectly clear.  Law had been worried he’d need to force himself through the book, but he was actually having a pretty good time with something he’d classify as a popcorn read.  He liked the variety of characters and the story pacing, and the details and descriptions of the titular Whitegrove Estate were pleasantly flowery without veering into purple prose outright.  The part he was hung up on was that Cora-san’s little maid from the keychain (Rosemary, he had to recall now) wasn’t just a character, but rather was the deuteragonist.

The story followed the adventures of the Brookinghams, a noble family living in their ancestral home known as Whitegrove Estate.  Rosemary was one of the maids dedicated to the protagonist, Alfred, who’d recently come home from abroad after his father had fallen ill.  The story alternated between Alfred’s POV as he dealt with the nobility sniping for his family’s holdings at every turn (with the Brookinghams themselves feuding in the background), and Rosemary’s POV dealing with more domestic affairs and the undercurrent of a lower class slowly but surely rising up in power against the dominant aristocracy.  It wasn’t a romance so much as historical fiction with rather overt commentary on politics, money, and class divides.  And that was why Law found it such a peculiar pick for Cora-san’s “favorite book.”

Obviously, Return to Whitegrove Estate was geared towards readers who had to pick between buying a hardback copy of the book or a nutritionally sound meal.  Alfred was an impossibility; namely, a rich boy that cared more about a maiden’s heart and loyalty than the assets tied to her name.  Cora-san came from the kind of moneyed background that suggested his parents had probably made a short list of appropriate marriage partners for him by grade school.  What appeal did a story about romance overcoming class barriers possibly hold for him?  Maybe it was part of some social media scheme.  The Donquixote family could have ties to the publishing house; maybe Corazon taking a picture with the book would drive up sales, and he was only saying it was his favorite to help generate a little more income?

Regardless of Corazon’s feelings on the book, Law needed book club on his college resume.  If Corazon said this is what he wanted to read, then that’s what Law would read.  He took appropriate notes during his reading (chief of which was a complaint that, for as much merch as Law had found, Winnie didn’t get nearly enough screen time and had better play a more prominent role in future volumes), alongside questions about how much of the story was drawn on real-world events versus the author’s wishful thinking.  The volume ended during a snowstorm, leaving the residents of Whitegrove Estate trapped on the grounds for weeks, potentially months, as food and fuel supplies slowly dwindled.  The teaser for volume 2 suggested this might put Alfred and Rosemary in something of a compromising position; clearly bait for the readers, but damn if Law wasn’t invested enough to see if the Dressrosa public library system had volume 2 on the shelf somewhere.  He’d need to remember to look at school tomorrow too…

Shit, how had it gotten so late?!  Law had only meant to read a few chapters and pace himself, not power through the whole book in one sitting!  Cursing himself and Cora-san in one breath, Law tossed the book onto the bedside table and shut off his lamp with extreme prejudice.  Well, at least he had the comfort of knowing his book club homework had been done.

-two weeks later-

The morning of book club brought with it a strange sense of anxiety for Law.  The whole day he felt somewhat twitchy and on edge, constantly reviewing the notes he’d made between classes for the first club meeting.  He’d never been part of a club like this; and he certainly had never deliberately subjected himself to a situation that called for a good deal of socializing bookended against other people sharing their opinions on a text and pushing back against him.  Literature class was obviously just an exercise in picking out the literary themes that teachers expected one to extract from the same stagnant texts that students had been tested on for decades; book club was presumably more an exercise in how one could best persuade the audience that their own interpretations should be taken as gospel.

Cora-san at least would be there.  As klutzy and scatterbrained as Cora-san could be when it came to textual analysis, he could at least be expected to fall in line with what Law argued about in a book.  Having someone on his side, even if that someone was a giant klutz with stupid puppy dog eyes, was some comfort to him.  

Law had actually been surprised at himself for how happy he’d felt when Cora-san had shown up in the library on the first day back at school.  He’d half expected the older boy to skip out on the first day back, or else come in late and make some excuse for needing to leave early.  But he hadn’t.  Cora-san had arrived right on time, carrying snacks and smiling at Law and even noticing that Law had gotten his ear pierced (and then immediately going into a cringeworthy level of excited support for Law’s choice).  It was…weird, is what it was.  Cora-san had acted like he was happy to see Law.  People didn’t do that.

And then as soon as Law had mentioned wanting to find some club that would take him this late in the year, Cora-san offered an invitation to his own book club?  With an assurance that he’d get Law in no problem, without him having to worry about meeting the advisor or the other club members?  It was overly nice.  Suspiciously so.  And it meant Law didn’t even have an excuse to try to wriggle out of the club meeting, under some excuse of not having met the advisor yet or knowing if he was even allowed to join up this late in the year.

Everything in him was screaming to run away and pretend that he’d never even considered it.  Social activities like these ran against everything that he stood for.  Forced participation in a club with a bunch of rich fucks was nowhere near the top of the list of things Law wanted to do.  But college scholarships were on the line here.  Law would need to endure.  And step one of that process was finding the meeting room.

Although certain clubs at Silvers were granted their own meeting space, Cora-san had informed Law ahead of time that they would be meeting in one of the classrooms after school; the faculty advisor said it was easier to host the meetings in his classroom, so the book club could have their discussions while he graded papers.  That had to be a good sign, right?  If the members of the book club were too rowdy or overbearing with their debates, then surely the advisor wouldn’t want them so close, yeah?  

Despite a constant internal mantra of reassurances, Law couldn’t help the way his heart rose into the back of his throat as he sought out the classroom.  He’d gotten comfortable with Cora-san in his space, and even those other two idiots weren’t the worst people who’d ever paid him for tutoring; but there was a difference between tutoring sessions where Law was in a position of power, and club meetings where he’d need to be on his guard not to overstep whatever rich people boundaries had surely been established within the group in the first semester.  Do it for the scholarship, do it for the scholarship…

When he finally found the classroom number Cora-san had written down for him, he took a final steadying breath and forced himself to open the door and walk inside before he could panic and bolt.  He’d been worried about interrupting the other club members’ conversations; imagine his surprise, then, to step into the classroom and find that there was not only a lack of conversation happening, but also a lack of students to have those conversations in the first place.

The only two people in the room were Cora-san, seated at a desk in the very back, and a teacher sitting at his desk in the front of the room.  It was hard to say if Law or the teacher looked more surprised; and only belatedly did Law think to say, “I’m here for book club?”

“Oh!  Right, go ahead and take a seat wherever you’d like,” the teacher said, waving off Law and immediately going back to the stack of essays he was slowly but surely working his way through.  Law made a mental note at the amount of red ink being slashed across those pages, and decided to figure out exactly what courses this instructor taught and avoid them at all costs.  His GPA would thank him for the trouble.

Turning away from this future battle, Law made his way to the back of the room and seated himself directly beside Cora-san. “Am I early?”

Cora-san shook his head and quickly typed up a reply. “We’re the only ones here today.”

A great deal of tension leaked out of Law then.  A meeting between just him and Cora-san?  Far more doable than navigating interactions and debates with a roomful of strangers.  Here’s hoping Cora-san had typed up all his thoughts and questions ahead of time.  On that note… “Well if it’s just us, do you want to go first?” Cora-san frantically started nodding, practically vibrating with excitement; how could Law deny him when it might result in Cora-san actually falling out of his seat? “Ok, go ahead.” And here Law relaxed in his seat, expecting Cora-san to need a minute to find his notes on his phone.  Cora-san sat back, took a deep, centering breath, and then-

“So this is my favorite book series ever of all time, you can absolutely tell that Alfred and Rosemary are meant to be right from the start, like the way her just walking past him is enough to stop him in his tracks and make him almost miss the carriage step, and then later on when Rosemary’s talking to the other maids-”

“What the fuck?!”

The teacher briefly looked up from his papers and frowned at the pair of them; not wanting him to investigate further, Law quickly fibbed, “The writer set us up for failure.” This nonsense statement apparently made sense to the teacher, likely a bibliophile himself who’d been betrayed by one too many books; with a vague directive to try and keep their excitement down, he returned to grading his papers.  Leaving Law to swivel his head back around to Cora-san. “Since when can you talk?!”

“Uh…since I was little?”

“But you never talk!  Never!  I…I literally didn’t think you could!”

“Oh…well, words are…I…sometimes…” Cora-san’s mouth opened and closed a few times with no sound coming out.  All his earlier excitement was gone now; he was slumping down in his seat, tucking his hands and feet in close to himself.  Eventually he set down the book he’d been holding (Law belatedly realized he must have been intending to reference some specific passage) and picked up his phone.  He typed a brief message and then held out his phone without looking at Law. “Sometimes it’s hard to talk when I’m nervous.”

“So what?  The phone’s your workaround?” Shit, as soon as the words came out of his mouth Law realized he should have phrased the question more kindly; or at least made an effort not to sound so annoyed.  If the phone was Cora-san’s speech aid, then Law shouldn’t deride it so meanly.  Cora-san nodded in answer to Law’s question and withdrew his phone, not adding any further message. “Oh.  Ok, that’s…sensible, I guess.  Sorry for flipping out, I wasn’t expecting…whatever.  Go back to what you were saying about Rosemary?”

Cora-san shook his head, and motioned to Law.  Fuck.  This was a colossal fuck-up on Law’s part, beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Cora-san had needed literal months to warm up to him, and when he’d finally worked up the nerve to actually say something, Law had flipped out on him.  Because of course he did, because Law wasn’t the kind of person who could actually be a decent human being, obviously.  He hadn’t even wanted to join book club because he got excited about reading with other people like Cora-san did, he just wanted to use the rich boy’s connections for his own gain.  And now Cora-san was clamming up and things were going to be awkward, and Law would have to buy his way back into Cora-san’s good graces for tutoring, never mind book club.

No.  No, actually, forget that, book club was clearly something Cora-san liked and Law wasn’t going to be the kind of asshat to ruin that for him.  Especially when it was clear that book club was a space where Cora-san felt comfortable enough to talk; a feat which he notably hadn’t achieved with Law in close to half a year together.  Well, maybe Law needed Cora-san to ignore his presence in favor of the book.  Maybe…maybe he just needed to coax Cora-san a little more.  Get back some of that earlier excitement? “Ok.  So you’ve read the other books in the series, yeah?” Cora-san nodded. “I really liked this one, but…what’s Giselle’s deal?”

It worked.  Cora-san’s mouth was open again in a heartbeat, immediately agreeing with, “Oh my god yes!”

He caught himself then, cutting off the next sentence before it could be spoken into existence, but Law had already latched on. “So does that mean she gets better later on?  Or you can’t tell me because that would be a spoiler?”

“Spoilers,” Cora-san hissed softly, making Law snort in amusement.  God, what a dork.

Relaxing back into his seat, Law was pleased to see that Cora-san looked slightly less uptight now.  Ok, maybe this strategy could work.  Coax Cora-san back out of his shell via interest in a novel geared towards teenagers with an affinity for romance novels and maids. “So if we’re just looking at book one, can we still discuss the author very clearly implying Giselle’s definitely killed and buried at least one man in the back garden?”

Cora-san squeaked at this and frantically shook his head, very clearly communicating his desire to defend the black widow’s honor.

“I beg to differ.  If you’ll kindly turn to page eighty-four…”

-n-

By the time the teacher announced that the club’s meeting would either have to end or continue elsewhere, Law and Cora-san were nowhere near done talking about the first volume of Return to Whitegrove Estate .  Cora-san was full of rather strong opinions, as it turned out.  While he was willing to allow Law to lead him by the nose in writing essays or taking chemistry notes, he could not be dissuaded from his opinions on things like the curative powers of Rosemary’s cooking, or how Winnie was clearly a vital aspect of the Almary endgame (and likewise could not be dissuaded from calling the Alfred x Rosemary ship by that terrible name).  It was the most animated Law had ever seen him; likely why Law couldn't shake the suspicion that if book club ended now, Cora-san might just crawl back into his little communicate-exclusively-via-text shell.  Well, the next bus wouldn't come by for close to an hour.  Plenty of time for more discussion. “Want to go to Binks?” Law suggested. “Dunno about you, but I'm parched.” 

Cora-san immediately nodded and began gathering up all of his things.  In short order the pair of them were heading to their favored coffee shop; and Law had questions to ask along the way. “So the barista makes you nervous too?”

Cora-san gravely nodded.  He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it as he nervously peered around.  Finally, he settled for typing up a warning. “There's a rumor that last year, she dumped a piping hot cup of espresso on one of her customers for wanting too many specialty modifications to his drink. And if you take too long picking out what you want, she looks at you like she's going to murder you.”

Law stared. “Seriously?” There was not a hint of treachery or deceit on Cora-san's stupid puppy dog face, leading Law to believe that yes, he really did find the main barista at Binks to be terrifying. “What about the diner?”

Cora-san needed a couple minutes to gather his resolve, before whispering, “You ordered for me before I could try.”

“Oh.  Shit, sorry, I just assumed…”

“It's ok, really!” Cora-san promised. 

Law decided to let the matter drop and try to bury that embarrassing memory deep, deep down in his subconscious.  They were nearly at the cafe when he asked his final question. “So I scare you?”

“NO!” Cora-san shrieked in a clear lie. “You're not scary, you're…it's…I…”

“You don't have to explain yourself,” Law finally stated, because this was getting painful and they nearly were at the cafe and really, he wanted to talk more about the book than the myriad things and people that terrified Cora-san, because as it turned out, discussing Return to Whitegrove Estate was the most fun he’d had in…a while.  Even if a lot of it was still done via phone screen because he hadn’t totally restored Cora-san’s willingness to speak, because of course he couldn’t, because he’d never been good with emotions.  That’s why he was going to be a surgeon; hard to hurt a patient’s feelings when they were under anesthesia for most of the time you spent with them.

Trying to focus on the present and fixing things with Cora-san, he ducked ahead and grabbed the door handle.  He held the door open for Cora-san, offering what he hoped was a comforting smile.  “If it's easier to text than talk, I don't mind.”

Cora-san shook his head and attempted to walk into the cafe at the same time, resulting in him smacking his side hard into the doorframe.  “I…I…uhm…it’s easier t-to talk, y’know?” he mumbled.  He peeked at Law from the corner of his eye, cheeks red.  “Just…harder.” 

Law blinked at Cora-san, the two of them standing in a bemused silence in the entrance of the cafe.  Snorting, he shook his head.  “That makes n-” 

“Mmph!” Cora-san grumbled, pouting at Law now.

“Right, right,” Law dismissively replied. “I’ll let it go.”  He was unable to help the tugging at the corners of his mouth.  Cora-san was a confusing and unpredictable mess of a human being, no doubt about it.  How could one possibly describe a rich boy with selective mutism who was way too invested in a pulpy romance novel about a working class maid and a rich man who would hopefully turn class traitor by the end of the series?  He was impossibly nice without trying, and Law was increasingly sure that was a sincere personality trait, not an act he was putting on for future gains.  He was clumsy, struggled with most scholastic pursuits, and if there was a punch card system for how many times he’d spilled coffee on himself or Law, they’d be well on their way to a free yogurt.  And in spite of all that...most days, Law found himself halfway looking forward to the afternoons they spent together.  If nothing else, it kept Dadan off his back about making friends, and studying with Cora-san helped him with his own tests.  Not to mention the snacks, and how every now and again, Cora-san would do something to make the day more interesting.  “Do you want to go and get a table while I order?” 

Cora-san nodded before doing something that shocked Law to his very core.  Reaching into his bag, Cora-san withdrew his wallet.  Without a second thought or glance, he freed his credit card and passed it over to Law with a smile.  He didn’t even glance back before scurrying off!

If Law were even somewhat inclined towards criminality, this was the perfect time to jot down the card’s number and security code to buy everything that he’d ever wanted from the terminal of a local library; and Cora-san might not even notice the hit to his accounts.  Law knew how much money the Donquixote family was reported to have; not just, “wow your family can take an overseas vacation every year” levels of wealth, but “wow I can’t believe how good your dad looks on the cover of Rich Fucks Monthly, that last hundred million he made really brought out the color in his cheeks!” And Cora-san was just trusting Law with access to that?   Fucking weirdo.  Shaking his head, Law headed up to the not-at-all-terrifying barista and placed their order, using the credit card to pay.

A glance towards the direction Cora-san had shuffled off revealed that he wasn’t even watching Law to make sure that he hadn’t run.  He’d already settled into a chair and pulled out his copy of Return to Whitegrove Estate , volume 1, flipping through the pages in search of something.  No doubt about it now.  There was something seriously wrong with Cora-san.  No one should be that trusting, especially not someone who had so much to lose.  Law didn’t know how Cora-san had managed to make it this far in life without being taken advantage of and ending up locked away for his own good.  It really did seem like the best way to protect him.

Though…finding a cage big enough for someone Cora-san’s size might pose a problem.  Hmmm.  Maybe if he went to one of those exotic pet stores, or whoever made the pens for zoos and circuses…

The drinks being set down on the counter next to him drew Law out of his mental search for the proper size of kennel for Cora-san, and he grabbed them before heading over to the table.  Cora-san peeped over the top of the book in his hands, only his eyes visible.  “Did…” He trailed off, eyes unblinking and the tip of his nose turning slightly red as he slid his phone across the table.  “Did you mean it when you said you liked the book?” 

“Yeah. It was a fun read,”  Law promised, shrugging his shoulders. He sipped at his drink, using one hand to dig through his bag and pull out his notes and the book.  Mentally, he flipped through the list of suggested book club statements one should make to establish comradery with the rest of the group. “It was definitely unique; and something I wouldn’t have picked out if you hadn’t suggested it, so thanks for that.”  Perfect, convey that not only did you enjoy the text, but also that whoever picked it out had excellent taste as well.

The statement got the desired reaction, and Cora-san beamed at him. “Yeah.  Like, a lot of people just think it’s a cash grab romance.  But they don’t get that this all started with like, an online novel that the author could only update in their spare time between two jobs!  But it got so popular that they were able to make writing a full-time gig, and they’ve even put out a comic adaptation too.  Plus there’s going to be an anime coming out this summer!”

Law blinked, surprised at the passion Cora-san was sharing.  That was the most he’d said since the start of book club; before Law fucked up, anyway.  Maybe this was the hack he needed to get Cora-san to open up.  Just keep talking about maids…forever. “Oh.  I…I didn’t realize.”

Cora-san kept nodding his head. “Yeah!  And if you wanted to…we could…”

“We could…?”

“Uhh, do the next volume for next month’s meeting!” Cora-san eagerly suggested.

Law turned that idea over in his head for a bit, before an important detail occurred to him. “Shouldn’t we check with the rest of the book club?”

“Huh?”

“The other members.  Don’t they get a say?”

“Oh!  Um, well…next month is my choice,” Cora-san quickly explained. “So, if they don’t like it…”

Oh.  That was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Law.  Maybe someone had suggested this volume but the others didn’t care for it enough to attend the meeting?  But if that was the case, Cora-san really should try and pick a different book that would encourage the other members to come back next time.  Also… “I thought you said this month was your choice?”

“Urgh!  Uh, well, it’s kinda…”  Once again the phone was out, and a fresh message was soon presented to Law. “No one else really wanted to pick last time.” Huh.  Did the other club members just not care that much about what they read?  Or maybe it was just easier for them to fob off the responsibility of picking to Cora-san.  Then if the book wasn’t something that the group liked, it would be Cora-san’s fault for not reading everyone’s taste correctly, instead of the blame falling on a different group member.  

And a better man than Law might have pointed out these issues.  Law, however, found himself rather enjoying the idea of a book club meeting with just him and Cora-san again, discussing a book that at least one of them was truly enthralled by.  Well, life was about making choices.  If Cora-san’s choices put off other people from attending book club, then fuck them.  Law would be better company anyway than a bunch of rich pricks who’d probably spend half of book club scrolling on their phones while waiting for their turn to share some asinine, half-baked take on the book.

“Ok, we’ll do volume 2,” Law agreed.

Cora-san smiled wider than Law had ever seen, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement. “Awesome!  Oh, I have an extra copy of volume 2 I can lend you.”

“How’d that happen?”

“...” It took precious seconds for Cora-san to decide that this message needed to be typed on his phone.  When he slid it over, Law could read, “I wanted the special edition release too.”

Law snickered at this; god, Cora-san was such a dork.  Well, as long as he didn’t special order a limited-edition Rosemary body pillow, Law could roll with it.  There was a limit to how much nonsense he could put up with from straight kids, after all.

Finishing his drink, Law ran down his list of talking points to try and find something they hadn’t yet hit upon. “So.  The little dumpling dog.”

“Winnie!” Cora-san corrected, overly affronted on the dog’s behalf.

Naturally, Law couldn’t resist teasing the dork, just a bit. “Right.  The dough ball…”

-n-

Law went home that night with a promise from Cora-san to get the next volume from him tomorrow after school.  All told, he couldn’t have asked for a better book club.  And he’d even gotten a surprise in the form of Cora-san speaking.

It was…surprising, to hear Cora-san’s voice after all this time.  Law had gotten used to their little shorthand during study sessions; how he’d work to phrase a conversation in a way that Cora-san could answer with a gesture or shake of the head, or even a quick note on the corner of his workbooks.  There had been something private to it; like even if someone else tried to listen in on their conversations, they’d scarcely have a chance of keeping up with whatever Law and Cora-san had been discussing.  Whatever was being said was for the pair of them alone.  Now, however…

Turns out, Cora-san could talk; at least to certain people.  And Law was apparently one of those people; provided he didn’t make an ass of himself again and scare off Cora-san, which was a possibility that couldn’t be entirely discounted.  Even if Cora-san seemed to have a little bit more of a spine when he was verbal and they were focused on something he really cared about, the chances of him folding against Law was never going to be zero.  Law’s track record with former associates spoke for itself, really.  Just because they got along at the start of term didn’t mean that things would stay the same even a few months from now.  Cora-san might stop inviting him to book club, or decide he wanted a different tutor, or find someone else to squawk at when he wanted to defend Winnie’s honor…like whichever other stupid rich pricks with money and connections and shared history with Cora-san might show up at book club and be better at getting Cora-san to talk, because he wouldn’t find them scary at all and that meant he’d like them better than Law for dozens of reasons-

“Stop it,” Law told himself.  There was no point in catastrophizing, he knew that.  You could be safe one minute and have the whole world turned on its head the next, completely outside of your control and whether you were prepared for it or not.  So long as Law had his wits about him, he’d still come out on top.  Still, all these negative thoughts had put something of a damper on his mood…time for a little endorphin influx.

Triple-checking that Dadan was asleep after he got out of the shower, Law made sure the door was locked and his laptop was muted before climbing into bed.  No such thing as a bad mood that couldn’t be briefly warded off with a little jerking off.

The porn collection had been updated over winter break, thanks to a trip to yet another hotel that Law would never be able to set foot in again without dying of shame.  He’d spent a bit more time curating his downloads, based on what he’d liked the most from the last batch.  He had plenty of choices now; and tonight’s selection would be…there. “Jock fucks mouthy goth twink in locker room.”

The premise was stale, and the costuming and set design all suggested the porn studio was about two days away from going under due to unpaid bills, but Law could overlook that because the jock actor was big.   Not just his dick (that was a given in most of Law’s porn), but literally towered over his partner.  His biceps were almost as thick as the “twink’s” thigh.  His shoulders were so broad it was a wonder he could fit through standard-size doorways.  And when he physically picked up his partner to pin him against the locker…fuck, it did things to Law.

To be clear, Law would never go for someone like that in real life.  Obviously.  Yeah, future!Law might pick up a closet case of a gym bro at some point in college for a quickie, but realistically?  His dating pool would be limited to whatever not-straight nerds he ran into during undergrad in biology or chemistry, whichever one he decided to major in.  The guy would probably be scrawny but not horrifically out of shape; but neither he nor Law would be able to put on any bulk during their years in residency.  And even if by some weird twist of fate Law found a guy built like a brick house?  He’d probably bolt or start taking a swing at someone trying to throw him around or hold him down.  That was…it would be too much, really.  He hated not having control in everyday life; he could only imagine it would be ten times worse in the bedroom.  Or locker room, as the case may be.

Porn, on the other hand, was fake.  There were a ton of cuts to this video, for example; clear signs that the director had called ‘cut’ to change the angle or lighting or whatever, and the actors had stopped immediately.  The setting and lighting was cheesy, but that added to his comfort as well.  The twink being tossed against a locker and fucked within an inch of his life was clearly pretend, and that made it safe.  Speaking of…

Law shimmied out of his underwear and slipped under the blankets, excitement and anticipation of the scene making him perk up.  The setup was some generic fight between the goth and jock, featuring the goth mouthing off and shoving the jock before being roughly pinned to the locker.  Law watched as the two shared a messy, brutal kiss, the camera shifting downwards to show the jock grabbing a handful of plump ass and squeezing.  Seconds later the goth was shucking off his pants and underwear, letting the jock grab him again and squeeze so hard he briefly left a handprint.  Huh.  Maybe Law should look at doing a little working out; see if he could build up his glutes to get a nice ass like that…

Suddenly the jock was spinning around his partner and pinning him to a locker, grinding against his ass and biting his way down the goth’s neck.  Law jerked himself harder as the goth actor’s hands scraped uselessly against the lockers, trying to slide free and only getting pinned more firmly in place for the trouble.  At some point the jock must have slipped on a condom, because suddenly there was a latex covered dick rubbing up against the crack of his partner’s ass, rock hard and teasing as the goth actor rocked uselessly back against his partner.  Law’s hand sped up as that dick finally started rubbing against the goth actor’s asshole, and then slowly slid inside.  Casting one last nervous glance towards his bedroom door, Law slowly reached for the bottle of hand lotion on his bedside table, squeezed out a small dollop, and then slid his other hand down his front, past his cock and balls to tentatively stroke against his own hole.

He was still figuring out how to do this.  He knew he liked the stimulation, and the feeling of having something inside him while he jerked off.  But the actual movements and angles were still a work in progress, and sliding in two fingers still felt a little weird.  He’d needed the assistance of an anatomy textbook to figure out where the prostate was (after porn had informed him this was something he might want to stimulate), and was still figuring out the right way to play with that part of him.  Sighing softly as he spread his legs a bit more, Law started rubbing against that little bump with two fingers inside him, the other hand still stroking his cock.  Like this, it would be harder to skip ahead in the porn without throwing off his rhythm; but he loved the heat building in his stomach when he did this, the exquisite pressure and how good it felt to be filled down there.

Suddenly the camera pulled back to reveal a number of athletes appearing on the other side of a wall of lockers, talking and shoving each other as their fellow jock fucked the brains out of a twinky goth kid not even a meter away, still out of sight.  Immediately the jock threw a hand over the goth’s mouth, whispering something in his ear that was probably a command to be quiet even as his hips sped up, cruelly making it even harder for the goth to obey this suggestion, screwing his eyes shut and going up on tiptoe as he was fucked wide open, fuck oh fuck oh fuck-!

Law came so hard he’d swear his eyes rolled back in his head.  It took him a few moments to come back to himself, gingerly sliding his fingers out of his hole and wiping his hands off with tissues before he could go to the bathroom and properly clean up.  Huh.  That was new.

Closing out the porn and climbing out of bed, Law hastily pulled up his underwear and then scuttled down the hall to the bathroom.  “Calm down,” he told himself while turning on the shower for a late night scrub.  There were weirder kinks than sneaky sex, yeah?  And Law hadn’t watched a lot of videos with that premise.  His horny brain had probably just latched onto the aspect of it being a new stimulus.  It didn’t necessarily mean he’d like it in real life!  And private porn viewing didn’t hurt anyone, so what was wrong with enjoying the video until the novelty of it all played out?

“That made perfect sense,” he decided while climbing into the shower.  People watched horror movies all the time; that didn’t necessarily mean they wanted to become ax murderers.  Fiction and reality were markedly different.  Don’t worry about it.  Just enjoy his porn and the good night’s rest that always followed a good orgasm.  No need to fret.

Chapter Text

The long, lonely days trapped at the family estate, occupied with matters of family business and little in the way of human company, had led to Corazon making a habit of wandering the halls in quiet contemplation when he needed space to think.  Tragically, the manor was filled with all manner of antique statues, vases, taxidermy, and other priceless heirlooms gathered by his ancestors over the course of several centuries; all of which seemed to make sport of Corazon’s wanderings as they attempted to tangle and trip up the young lord.  Normally he was able to escape with little more than a scuffed pant leg and bruised pride, with nary a witness to his missteps.  Not surprising, given the scale of the building.  The manor was quite spacious, and often he could walk through entire wings without so much as passing a laundry girl. This time, however, while pondering most serious business, Corazon managed to slam directly into one of the maids, drawing a startled squeak out of them.  “I’m so sor–”  Corazon’s apology died on his tongue as he caught sight of exactly which maid he’d stumbled into.  Law, straightening up and dusting off the wrinkles in his…his…

Corazon’s thoughts ground to a halt, hand slowing its pace as he palmed himself through his pajama pants.  Just what kind of outfit would Corazon’s most favorite maid wear?  The obvious answer was a typical, modest dress with a skirt that easily covered the knees, stockings that hid the rest of the legs, long sleeves attached to a button-up bodice, and an apron with ample pocket space.  Classy, classic, and the standard uniform one would see in the utmost authority on current maid trends, Return to Whitegrove Estate.   Of course, Rosemary naturally made a few modifications to her own outfit to showcase her welcoming and exuberant personality; things like a fluffy petticoat to lift the skirt a bit, and frills on both the hem of the dress and her maid cap.  Oh, Law could make that work.  And… oh god …maybe instead of flats, the estate’s dress code would dictate he wear a nice pair of heels and opaque black stockings, fabric fitting like a glove around Law’s thighs.  Gulping at the mental imagine, Corazon’s hand quickly sped up its pace once more.

Was…was it inappropriate to put maid!Law in a dress like this?  Forcibly feminizing one’s tutor was the plot of several delicious web series he enjoyed, but Law was a real person. Not to mention the fact that they were of similar social status, but Corazon’s fantasies had reduced him to a servile role.  Next time Law could be a visiting prince, he decided.  One who’d demand Corazon prove his loyalty to the kingdom with his words and his actions, so to speak.  Yes, that would make it fair!  But for now, the question of maid!Law remained.

Should Corazon mentally dress him up in a butler’s uniform instead, given that the terms were gendered rather explicitly?  It felt like that would be less rude than putting Law in a dress, and admittedly, Corazon did find butlers’ suits and white gloves attractive…but it was so hard to get the image of Law’s silk-clad legs out of his head now!  And the skirt, and the cap, and…and…oh how could a mere suit compare to that?!  

No, the maid picture was here to stay.  Besides, it was just a harmless bedroom fantasy!  It wasn’t like Law would ever know what Corazon’s imagination got up to when allowed to run free.  Thoughts like these were private.  Presuming Law hadn’t actually developed mind-reading powers, and if that was the case then Corazon would just make it up to Law the next time the opportunity presented itself.  For now, there was a startled maid to soothe…

“There’s no need for you to apologize,  Master Donquixote.  I should have been paying closer attention.”  Law’s voice was quiet, a seductive little murmur.  He picked up each side of his dress with gloved fingers and sunk into a low curtsey, eyes demurely avoiding Corazon’s. 

Corazon stepped closer to Law, placing a hand on his elbow and directing him to straighten up.  “The blame is mine.  I’m prone to accidents in these halls; but normally such mistakes are limited to collisions with furnishings, and not people.  Please, pardon me.” 

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Law’s mouth, his dark lashes lowering.  “As you wish, Master Corazon.”  His hands folded modestly in the front of his skirt and when Corazon leaned closer he could smell…something herbal, like Law had either been brewing tea or gathering flowers to freshen up the guest rooms in this wing of the house.

“You know you don’t have to address me so formally, Law,” Corazon whispered.  Law had been a maid in the household for many years at this point; he’d come into service for the Donquixotes early in Corazon’s childhood, and had been a constant fixture in the estate ever since.  Hardly a day went by without the two of them crossing paths at least once; and naturally, they’d built up something of a rapport with one another.  The line between master and servant had started to blur for them long ago.  Nevermind that lately, Corazon had taken to starting conversations with Law simply to hear his name caressed by Law’s tongue, or in hopes of a gentle laugh slipping from plush lips in that soft, impossibly sexy voice of Law’s.

“It would be highly inappropriate for me to address you as anything but Master Corazon,”  Law gently chided, but there was something playful dancing in his gorgeous amber eyes as he looked up at Corazon.  They were so close now, blatantly invading each other’s space in a manner more suitable for lovers than employer and servant.

“Well…why not Cora-san?” fantasy!Corazon suggested in a smooth way that real!Corazon would have never been able to manage.  This version of him could do anything, though.  There was no risk of tripping over thin air or losing one’s ability to speak in this divine fantasy.  This version of Corazon took another step closer to Law, his hand reaching out towards Law’s perfect, narrow waist.

“I think you’ll find that’s even more inappropriate, Master Corazon .” Law made no move to get away from him, nor to duck out of his grasp as Corazon’s hand came to rest on that beautiful, sinful, had been driving him nuts since the second week of gym when Law’s shirt rode up waist.  He was so close to getting what he wanted.

Down the hall, just outside this room, a door opened and a floorboard creaked, causing both of them to jerk away.  Law’s eyes were wide in surprise, lips in a cute little ‘o’ of shock.  A pink blush dusted across his cheeks as he quickly stumbled away from Corazon, making some excuse about needing to freshen up the rooms for guests that were due to arrive any minute; and then he’d spin around and bustle down the hallway as fast as his heels would allow, when all Corazon wanted to do was snatch him up and kiss him…

With a dreamy sigh, Corazon wiggled against his pillows and slipped his pants and underwear down and off, letting some of the tension die away for a minute.  Sure, it was his fantasy and if he really wanted, he could have kept going directly into ruining his beautiful maid.  But something about the building tension in those almost-kiss moments drove him crazy.  It was romantic in a way that only slow-simmering desire and magnetic pulls towards one another could be.  That yearning, crackling electricity between two people who wanted each other so badly, but couldn’t have each other for even a moment? Unf, it was enough to make Corazon shiver in delight.

In Corazon’s favorite webnovels and comics, the almost-kiss was where the chapter would end and then there’d be a bunch of filler to wade through that may or may not further the actual plot.  Day-to-day business, maybe sprinkled with the faintest hint of longing, nothing more substantial than that.  But being a fantasy that Corazon was in control of, there was no need to wait or buy premium coins to get to the good stuff.  

Later that evening, fantasy!Corazon sat at the writing desk in his room and stared dejectedly at the correspondence spread out in front of him.  The grandfather clock in the hallway near his bedroom had long since struck midnight, but a bout of insomnia kept Corazon up, despite the exhaustion that had settled over him like a thick, heavy quilt.  The moment he’d returned to his room after dinner, he’d discarded his jacket and vest over the back of his chair and now he looked handsomely disheveled.  His cravat was untied, hanging loosely, and several of the top buttons of his shirt were undone.  His hair was artfully mussed from his fingers running through it constantly in frustration.  With the low light in the room casting long shadows, Corazon looked (handsomely still) morose.  In need of a comforting touch from a favorite maid, one might say…

And oh, what was that?  On cue there came a gentle knock on the door to his bedroom.  Sighing deeply, Corazon set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.  “Enter,” he called out.

The knob twisted.  The door swung open.  Law stood in front of Corazon, a tea tray held between his bare hands.  His hat and apron were gone, and the maid outfit from earlier was replaced by a long nightgown, as though he’d been about to climb into bed but had been distracted by duty to his young master.  “I heard you were having trouble sleeping,”  Law murmured, taking a step into the room and fixing his sparkling eyes on Corazon.  “I brought you something that might help.” 

“How thoughtful of you.”  Corazon spoke without really registering the words, his eyes skimming along Law’s legs, the barest hint of ankle peeking out from beneath the paper-thin linen gown he now wore.  Absent-mindedly Corazon pushed the papers on his desk to the side, allowing Law to set the tray down in front of him.

“Cook swears by this tea for long nights when sleep won’t come,”  Law said.  His slender fingers traced along the porcelain of the tea pot, and Corazon’s eyes dutifully followed the movement.  Such beautiful, slender fingers they were; and the way they moved made it so easy to imagine them wrapped around something else. “She was all too willing to brew a pot when I told her it was for Master Cora-san.”

Real!Corazon flopped around on his bed, unspeakably grateful that he was alone in the house tonight.  He hadn’t even gotten to the good part of the fantasy yet and he was already so hard it hurt, cock heavy and leaking precum against his stomach.  Just thinking of Law was too much for him most of the time, and after spending several hours in his presence during tutoring, it was all Corazon could do to keep himself under control until he got home. 

From beside him on the bed, Corazon picked up the bottle of lube he’d nicked from Doflamingo’s room last semester (after the chaffing got to be too much).  The cool feel as he drizzled it across his cock made his toes curl and he let out a soft sigh as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself again with an easier slide. 

Meanwhile, fantasy!Corazon reached out and placed his hand on top of Law’s to still it.  “That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid it won’t work,” he said.  

Law’s hand stopped moving, but he did nothing to extract himself from Corazon’s space. “And why might that be?”

“Because the tension keeping me up isn’t the kind that can be soothed by a warm drink,” Corazon vaguely replied.  Again he caught the herbal scent wafting off Law, now pleasantly mixed with the fresh tea that smelled…tea-ish.

“Is that so?” Law didn’t seem put off by this news.  If anything he leaned in closer, practically curling his body around Corazon’s.  He shifted his stance slightly, leaning his hip up against the desk as he filled Corazon’s personal space.  “In that case, what must I do to help you find relief?”

Corazon suddenly stood up, Law’s delicate hand grasped tightly in his own.  He was so much taller than Law, and it was easy to cage the little maid against his desk like this, to press them close together and feel the heat of Law’s body against his own.  Law gasped softly, staring up at Corazon in shocked awe. “Careful, Law,” Corazon warned.

“What must I be careful of?”

“Asking questions like that after you’ve come to visit me so late at night, dressed for bed with no one else around,” Corazon explained. “It’s enough to give a man ideas.”

And Law, who could never be perfectly meek and docile, even in Corazon’s wildest fantasies, curled his hand up and around to thread their fingers together. “Perhaps that was my intention, Master Cora-san.”

Oh, Law was clearly asking for it!  Corazon swept him up off his feet and set him on the desk, scattering papers and ledgers every which way in his haste.  He shoved himself between Law’s perfect thighs, and relished in the squeak this got from Law, oh what a perfect and precious noise it had been when Law accidentally spilled some of the ice from his drink on his lap in the library, making Corazon wonder what other noises could he get out of Law, oh fuck-!

And that was it, Corazon tipped over the edge at the recollection of that singular sound.  Damn, he hadn’t even gotten into the adult content advisory part of the scene!  How pathetic.  No, wait, that was being markedly unkind.  Think about it for a minute, he told himself.  Law’s sexy little noises, his squeaks and hisses and everything else, were clearly adult content!  Mature warning, parental caution is advised!  And frankly…this gave real!Corazon more time to workshop the scene!  Some of the plot points needed to be flushed out, and surely Law had to smell like something other than the plants Corazon remembered growing in Silvers’ greenhouse.

Comforting himself with these thoughts, Corazon carefully climbed out of bed (trying to avoid smearing cum on anything) to head for the bathroom.  A quick rinse and an episode of Boat Wars, and then he’d be ready for round two.  Look out, fantasy!Law.  The night was far from over.

-n-

“Hey, Law?”

“Hmm?  You done with your edits yet?”

“No, but, ahh…has your advisor talked about classes for next year?”

Law actually set down his pencil and notebook; a sure sign that he was serious about their conversation. “A little bit.  We’ve got a whole month to look through the catalog and pick; although half the classes are going to be picked for us, depending on the scholastic track you started on in your first year…”

Law continued to chatter on about curricula details that Corazon had scarcely paid attention to last year, so what was the point in starting now?  The last few semesters he’d been happy to let his guidance counselor pick his courses and just nod along in their end-of-term meetings.  This had been fine, until it resulted in him and Law being split up; and barely a month into spring semester, Corazon was already convinced he was going to shrivel up and die next term if he couldn’t get a little more Law time shoved into his day somewhere. And that meant planning ahead so they could share at least one class; maybe lunch, too.  Quite a feat to master, given that they were in different years and Law was definitely on the advanced track.

Eventually Law realized that Corazon was just nodding his head and probably hadn’t absorbed half of what was being said. “What are you taking?” he finally asked to cut to the chase.

“Well, the core classes are already a given,” Corazon stated.  He had to take a third-year writing, literature, and history credit next year, those were non-negotiable.  But beyond that, he and Law had at least a bit of wiggle room.  He steeled himself to ask the question he’d practiced close to a hundred times in the mirror over the last week. “And I was thinking, you might have less work to do for tutoring if…you know…maybe we’re in the same class and studying the same stuff anyway?”

Law pondered this for a moment as the words sank in. “Oh.  Like maybe we try to take a couple classes together?”

Corazon nodded enthusiastically, then reminded himself that he was really, really trying to use words more often with Law. “Yeah!  Exactly!”

Law sat with this for a bit. “It’ll have to be an elective,” he reasoned. “You have to take band, yeah?”

Corazon nodded.  All marching band members had to take one of the band classes at Silvers; otherwise they’d never be able to properly practice in a group before their performances.

“Ok,” Law murmured.  He pulled out his rarely-used laptop and flipped it on; minutes later, he had the webpage with the school’s catalog pulled up for them to browse together.   Another tab had the curricula track lists pulled up, giving the boys a pathway to analyze and see what classes they’d have to take, and where they’d have a bit of wiggle room. “How would you feel about College Chemistry?”

“Urgh…”

“Right, bad idea, they have open flames,” Law quickly rejected with a dismissive hand wave.  Rude, but fair, Corazon had to admit. “Let’s see…I can’t do calculus or biology before I get a few more general credits knocked out…statistics would give us college credit.”

“Umm…that’s an option,” Corazon weakly agreed, recalling how badly Law had raked him over the coals for his math homework in the weeks leading up to finals last semester.

Law could clearly sense the hesitancy in Corazon’s reply, because he scrolled to the next option on the list. “Ok, no public speaking, no home ec, absolutely no woodshop-”

“Why not?” Corazon asked.  Law didn’t even verbally answer; instead, he reached over and snatched up Corazon’s cake pop, moving it out of his reach in a clear sign that Corazon was being punished.  Point made, Law returned to his catalog. “Hmm, not really sure I want a whole semester of accounting…”

“No thank you.”

“Same for a bunch more of these.  Theater and music theory don’t make sense for my track…”

“What about something in the sciences?” Corazon asked, because Law seemed to be circling back to math and science over and over. “I’d probably flunk Physics or Organic Chemistry, but…oh!  Astronomy,” Corazon suddenly saw and tapped on Law’s screen.

Law shooed away the finger and brought up the course description. “It’s through the community college, so you’d get credit as long as you passed,” he read, sounding more interested in the class now that he’d learn he could double-dip for scholastic credit.

“Uh-huh, and the teacher for it grades pretty easily,” Corazon added, seeing that it was Mr. Pagaya on the roster for next year.  Oh, it was perfect!  Astronomy was a class that he and Law could share that probably wouldn’t melt his brain.  They could sit together, and share notes together, and at the end of the semester the class did a field trip to the local planetarium, which was definitely date adjacent!  It was a dream come true, no doubt about that.  Now all he had to do was get Law to agree.

That was likely to be the biggest battle.  He could see Law sitting on the fence, eyes still skimming over the list of other classes available to second and third-year students.  Law had always seemed very future oriented, and he’d never really expressed an interest in astronomy longterm.  Maybe he was worried about it not neatly factoring into his future plans?

Well, tough.  Corazon was dying at only being able to get a little bit of Law in his schedule a few times a week; and since Law still tutored Helmeppo and Koby, they didn’t even see each other every day!  This was a gross injustice that Corazon could not stand to see go on. “It’s not just memorizing the names of planets and stuff,” Corazon insisted. “Like, this teacher does real-world application!  You ever hear of celestial navigation?”

“Finding your way with the stars?  When would I need to know how to do that?” Law incredulously asked.

“For every interview or ‘meet the team’ event that demands you present one fun fact about yourself,” Corazon immediately answered.

He could see the change in Law almost at once.  Law clearly had big plans, and they involved interviewing in what Corazon felt sure would be highly competitive fields.  That meant having some way to stand out from the crowds; and saying you’d spent your free time diversifying skills and learning to navigate with stars for, say, a sailing trip to Fishman Island, could be just the thing to perk up ears without coming across as controversial.  Law gave the matter a few more moments of consideration, and then finally said, “All right.  If it works around my other classes, sure.  Let’s do Astronomy.”

Yes!  Oh, joyous day.  Corazon’s future happiness was all but assured!  But naturally, he couldn’t stop his plotting here.  He needed to think ahead even further; potentially, there were four more semesters of classes they could take together before Corazon graduated!  Time to do a bit of information gathering. “What are you going to college for, anyway?” he casually tossed out while sneaking his cake pop back onto his side of the table.  He then proceeded to casually bite into it, and then not-so-casually choke on a dry piece of cake.

Once Law had finished thumping Corazon on the back and sat back down, he went straight back to his notes. “Pre-med.  Technically you can major in anything and get into medical school; I’ve heard of music majors or people who focused on theoretical physics getting accepted.  But the schools I’m looking at favor biology or chemistry degrees, with some kind of minor in statistics; makes you better at analyzing data and putting out publications.”

“...huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“Eek!  Nothing, I, umm…”

“What?  I don’t come across as the doctor type?” Law snapped.

“N-no!  Err, I…it’s…” panicking, Corazon reached for his phone and quickly typed out a message. “You’re really smart, so a doctor makes sense!  And now I get why you’re always studying; you really want to be a good doctor, right?”

Law stared at the phone; far longer than it would take to simply read the message.  Actually, looking more closely at him…it was hard to tell, but was he getting a little red?

Suddenly Law’s science book popped up between them, creating a physical barrier between Corazon’s phone and the intended recipient of his message as he propped it up on the desk. “Obviously I want to be a good doctor, who the hell decides to go to med school and become a shitty physician?!” he hurriedly spat out from behind the cover of his book. “And why are we still talking about this when you’ve got an essay to edit, don’t think you can distract me with next semester’s classes!”

Corazon blinked at the cover of the science book.  Was Law…flustered?  Was this a flustered Law?

It took every ounce of Corazon’s strength not to collapse in his seat, even as Law started marking up the closest bit of Corazon’s homework he could find.  How dare Law be this cute!  Maybe it was a good thing Corazon had a bit more time before they were together in class again; otherwise, his poor heart might not survive!  Needing a moment to gather himself, he quietly slid his essay over to Law.  The edits were far from complete, but what other defense did Corazon have, except to try and buy himself a few minutes for deep breathing exercises?  Oh, this was absolutely getting added to the fantasy!Law roster.  He could hardly wait to get home now.

-n-

“I did it! I did it!”  Helmeppo rushed into the band room, brandishing a sheet of paper in Corazon’s face and beaming.  A sheen of sweat clung to his flushed face and there was more than a little bit of mania in his eyes.  Rather out of place, given that this was a perfectly normal afternoon preceding what would hopefully be a rather non-descript band practice.

Still, seeing such an emotional outburst from Helmeppo unless cars or girls were involved was cause for concern.  Corazon clutched his trumpet protectively to his chest, wary.  “Did what?” he hesitantly asked. 

“Aced my biology test!” Helmeppo managed to steady his hand enough for Corazon to make out the front of the paper and the grade written in red across the top. 

“That’s a C,” Koby commented from next to Corazon.  “Not an A.” 

Some of Helmeppo’s bluster faded, his shoulders slumping, and his grip tightened on his test.  “It’s a figure of speech,” he snapped.  “I passed.”

“A figure of speech that I’m pretty sure doesn’t count in this scenario.  You know, since we’re talking about an actual graded assignment, where you literally could have gotten an A,” Koby mused. 

Helmeppo frowned. “Whatever,” he huffed, taking his seat next to Koby and shoving his test back into his bag.  “The point remains that if I keep this up, I’m back on track to getting the Sango daddy promised me for my birthday.  It’ll hit 300 km/hr in under 5 seconds while the heated seats learn to wrap around your body for the best custom fit in racing since the Vari 100.” 

Now Koby’s sass shifted to open-mouthed awe. “Seriously?!  Enel hasn’t even released that one yet!”

Helmeppo’s smile was back, and smug as ever. “Mine’s coming fresh off the assembly line; and fully customized, of course.  After all, who wants a car that anyone can buy off a lot?”

“Jealous,” Koby approvingly replied. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll still have enough summer break left to take it for a solid test drive once it comes in,” Helmeppo promised. “Even better if we can pick up a couple girls from Shakky’s to come along with us…”

This conversation was veering into dangerously straight territory; naturally, Corazon had to take appropriate evasive measures.  “Of course you’ll pass and get the car.  It’s impossible for you to fail with Law as your tutor.” As much as having to share his Law time with Koby and Helmepoo, he couldn’t help the swell of pride that bubbled up.  His Law was the smartest person at the school, and they were all lucky that he deigned to help their unworthy asses pass their classes.

Koby laughed, half-joyous and half-anxious. “I’m not worried about failing with Law’s help.  I’m worried about him killing me before I can even take the test,” he clarified. 

“Yeah…” Helmeppo shuddered.  “He hasn’t gotten any easier on us, even seeing our final grades from last term.  I’m worried that I’m going to hand him an essay one day and it’s going to be so bad he stabs me through the throat with his pen.” 

“Or shoves the paper down your throat and chokes you to death,” Koby piped up.

“Oh, or…” 

While Helmeppo and Koby came up with increasingly creative, school supply-based ways that Law could kill them,  Corazon smiled down at the trumpet in his lap.  His not-quite-yet-but-maybe-soon boyfriend was undeniably brilliant, handsome, and driven.  His maybe-soon-definitely-not-too-long-now boyfriend was going to be a doctor.  Law was just so impressive; it made Corazon feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey, Corazon,” Koby suddenly called out, interrupting his train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“Does he ever actually…you know, chill?”

“...huh?”

“Like no one can possibly be that tightly wound all the time,” Helmeppo stated. “He’d fucking explode or have a heart attack.  What’s he like outside school?”

“Err…uh…”  That was a good question, actually.  Other than their singular diner date, Corazon hadn’t really had a chance to get Law on his own, unless it was for tutoring or a book club meeting (which probably counted towards school stuff, actually). “Law’s always busy studying.”

“...well shit, no wonder he’s such a tight-ass,” Helmeppo concluded.

“Maybe his parents are really strict?” Koby suggested. “Like, the only reason we’re working this hard is so we don’t get disowned or mailed ground freight across the country to military school.  Maybe Law’s family is like that too?”

Corazon’s stomach twisted up at that.  Who could possibly be mean to Law?!  He knew he needed to get in good with the in-laws eventually, but if they were unkind to his future husband…maybe they could be fobbed off with money.  Just offer them enough incentives and gifts that they’d push Law onto Corazon and then get on with their own lives.

“Well he’s gonna pop a gasket if he keeps going,” Helmeppo cautioned.

Koby snorted. “A gasket?” 

“Fuck you, my grandpa used to say it all the time,” Helmeppo snipped with a swipe of his hand towards Koby’s head. “And yeah, I think it applies here because that guy is a machine when it comes to school.  If you told me all he ever did was eat, sleep, study, repeat, I’d believe you.”

“Maybe we could try getting him to come to a party and chill out for a little?” Koby suggested.

“I thought your parents banned parties after last summer,” Helmeppo remarked, recalling the rager that had ended with two patio chairs and a table at the bottom of a pool, puncturing the liner and costing the parents a pretty penny in repairs.

“Yeah, but Hibari’s parents are out of town in a couple weeks-”

“Wait, hottie Hibari?  With the tits and the huge crush on you?”

Koby’s face turned red as a tomato. “I…she…it’s not a crush!”

“Bullshit, she totally yanked up her crop top an extra inch when she saw you at the last party,” Helmeppo teased with sadistic glee. “No wonder she invited you; she’s probably hoping to get you alone in one of the guest rooms.”

“Fuck off!” Koby screeched as he lunged across the chairs towards Helmeppo, sending both of them and their instruments tumbling to the ground.  

Corazon, meanwhile, considered their suggestion.  Maybe Law needed a little help unwinding?  And a party might be the best shot at doing that.  Law could have some snacks and drinks and hang out with Corazon, and if things got awkward they could always wander around until they like, found a game they could join or start talking to someone else.  Corazon wasn’t quite ready to invite Law over for a private sleepover with just the two of them.  But seeing Law in the wild like this would give him an idea of what food and drinks to have on offer, and if Law mentioned liking a certain show or music, Corazon could use that to his favor.  Really, he needed Law at this party for his own personal research, more than anything else.  After all, they’d known each other for over six months and Corazon still didn’t know Law’s favorite brands or social media handles, they were practically still strangers!  

“I’ll invite him,” Corazon decided, unsure if his band mates heard him and frankly, not too concerned if they did or didn’t.  A Doflamingo had taught him, if a Donquixote wanted to come to a party, then they'd come to the party. If they wanted to bring a guest, the host should be all too happy to accommodate them.  Oh, he could hardly wait!

Chapter Text

For the three dozenth time that night, Law erased “Astronomy” from his course schedule and wrote in “College Statistics” instead. And then promptly erased that and put “Astronomy” back.

It was insane, he knew. He shouldn’t be going back and forth like this. He knew which classes would set him up better for success on a pre-med college track, and astronomy wasn’t one of them. He knew that too many courses with the softer sciences might make his resume look weaker, like he was deliberately trying to pad it with fluff classes. And he knew that if Cora-san hadn’t suggested it, he wouldn’t have even considered astronomy in the first place.

Law’s stomach twisted a little at the reminder of exactly what had led him to even consider this choice; or rather, who. Prior to high school, the only classes he’d been able to have any say in taking was math last year. Everything else was planned for him by adults who may or may not have his best interests at heart, combined with the struggle of trying to either catch up (or slow down) to wherever a new school might be in the curricula when he was abruptly dropped into their world. Silvers was the first time in his life where he’d had anything close to a say in what he planned to do with his school day; and also, the first time he’d had a fellow classmate who wanted to make sure they shared a class.

It didn’t help that he could now compare and contrast what school was like if he didn’t have Cora-san in the same classroom as himself. They’d shared gym the first semester, which had looked like a disaster for an uncomfortably long stretch. Considering how klutzy Cora-san could be, Law had come out better than expected on that front. And minus Cora-san, he wasn’t exactly struggling this semester…but there was a notable improvement in his mood once he entered the library after school, which couldn’t entirely be attributed to simply being happy the school day was done. Cora-san’s consistency in keeping their study dates between Law’s tutoring sessions was…not the worst thing in the world.

But putting aside the Cora-san angle entirely (which he really should have done from the start) when he sat down and properly thought of it, Cora-san wasn’t wrong in his suggestion that Law could take the class for the novelty angle. His advisor had insinuated such as well. Law’s academics were great, but presently that strongest point on his resume was also his only point. What else was there to catch the eye of an admissions’ board? His tragic past? Law’s grip on his pencil tightened as his stomach turned on itself. Fucking gross. Surviving an avoidable manmade disaster had been a random chance of fate, not thanks to any quick thinking or fast acting on his part. It was sheer, dumb luck that his school had been one of the few buildings to survive the onslaught of water and debris when the dam burst. Even more dumb luck that his immune system didn’t succumb to any of the widespread illnesses plaguing the ruins of Flevance in the aftermath. 

He wanted to vomit at the thought of being put on the spot by an admissions’ board and made to relive those months for their own curiosity; like he was some documentary subject who was expected to recount the aftermath of the Flevance Dam Disaster with the exact right blend of emotion to show that he’d been upset by the events, but wasn’t so traumatized that it would affect his schoolwork in their program. What right did they have to ask questions of him, huh? And what did those ghouls want to hear? How shocking it had been for Law to be doing a quiz one minute and then have the whole world go sideways the next (quite literally) as everyone was thrown to the ground screaming? How he didn’t immediately realize that it was a flood of water that was destroying the city, because he’d never heard water at such mind-shaking, deafening levels?! Or how afterwards he’d beelined towards the hole in what had once been the roof of his school and climbed over broken drywall and metal and glass to get free of the wreckage that had trapped so many other of his classmates in the ruin of the schoolhouse that had been picked up and carried nearly half a kilometer by the waters, and it was damn lucky that the cut on his right foot hadn’t gotten infected and only left behind a small, pale scar?

Or how afterwards he’d been eight and alone, someone who’d previously only ever been surrounded by friends of his own or his parents so his stranger danger wasn’t as sharp as later survival would need it to be? He could still recall in those early days how he’d nearly allowed himself to be led away from the main children’s area in the refugee camp by a group of men who offered him extra food and a nice, dry bed. And he might have taken them up on that offer, except before he could one of the nuns from the school (Sister, they’d all called her that because she wasn’t a Mother or Mother Superior, not yet) had picked him up and clutched him against her chest and screamed a series of curses at the men. And Law hadn’t understood then why she did that (though he could guess now), but it was enough to know that one of the kindest nuns he’d ever met was swearing at the men, and so he needed to stay away from them. She’d brought him home with her that night, against the wishes of the other nuns. Afterwards, she’d bargained for a small pup tent they shared from then on. It was the first time Law had had a stable place to rest in weeks.

And as good as she’d been to him, keeping him fed and dressed and trying to distract him and the other children when the lice on their heads and bodies got too itchy and painful, he’d probably never know what happened to her. Mold from the rotting buildings sickened many refugees in the camps, and she was one of them. She got weaker and weaker, coughing and groaning but still trying to keep him fed as winter turned to spring, determined that she’d be better as soon as the weather improved. But one day, three aid workers came to their tent in the pale light of dawn. Sister would be leaving today. An external organization affiliated with her church had been able to secure evacuation for her to an outside hospital.

Two of the workers climbed through the doorway of the tent and moved her emaciated form onto a stretcher; a third one woke up Law and took Law’s hand in his right, and the Sister’s only world possessions (a small battered suitcase) in his left. Law had started to lose the finer details of the Sister’s face in his memories, but he could still recall the way her shriveled, calloused hand had curled up and shakily rose in the air, one finger pointing to the suitcase and saying, “It’s there, it’s there!” And at the time, it had made perfect sense that the small bag needed to come with them, because that was where Sister kept all the money and valuables they traded for supplies and food.

They carried her to the hospital where a helicopter was waiting for her, because the roads were still largely impassible and dangerous for an ambulance to travel by, lest the ground give way beneath the vehicle's weight. And the aid worker holding Law’s hand had let go for a moment and walked up to the Sister on the stretcher as the doors of the helicopter opened wide. And they’d said something in that private conversation, with a lot of nodding on the part of the worker; and then the Sister was being placed on the helicopter.

Except they didn’t load up her suitcase. And Law was so shocked that he tried to tell the aid worker, who didn’t seem to care, and then he was shouting at the helicopter pilot and the other workers, but they didn’t say anything either as the doors shut and the blades of the helicopter started whirling. When Law tried to run for the doors the worker dropped the suitcase and scooped up Law with both arms, holding this filthy, lice-infested child tight as he screamed and cried and none of it was heard over the helicopter blades taking off, and Law lost yet another person without even getting a chance to say goodbye and do one last good thing for them.

Afterwards, the suitcase did not go back to the refugee camp, and neither did Law. Instead, the aid workers announced that they had been able to find a bed for him at the foreigners hospital. There Law was properly treated for lice and given food and a bed and largely ignored by everyone for several weeks, shocked into zombie-like silence at the unexpected loss of yet another person in his world. Later and completely out of the blue, the aid worker who’d taken the suitcase (a bribe, adult Law now understood) came to him one day and told him they’d gotten all his papers sorted, and there was a lovely family in a city elsewhere waiting for him, and they had a warm, soft bed all ready for him and he’d get new clothes and go to school as part of their family, wouldn’t that be nice?

Law thought the clothes and bed in the hospital were fine; especially compared to where he’d been before. And he was so scared to leave, because what if they found Lami or his parents the next day? (A stupid thought, he could recognize that now, the search for living survivors under the wreckage had ended months before). But his parents had always placed such high importance on school; something he hadn’t gotten in the camp or the hospital. Maybe…maybe it would be all right. His mom and dad would understand why he had to leave, right? And he made the aid worker promise to tell his parents where he’d gone if they came looking for him. And that was that. Less than a week later, Law left Flevance for the final time.

Yeah. Tragic origin story that some admins would tear up about before slapping his name and biography all over some advertisements for the university. Fuck sharing that in the hopes of getting a full ride at any college; Law wasn’t some prop they could use to emphasize a school’s commitment to overcoming adversity or any of that shit. There had to be a better (or at least different) hook he could use. Maybe…maybe he could manipulate a casual science course into something that would make him seem like prime doctor material. An interest in a field that was constantly growing and changing? Or maybe talk about a fascination with the different ways plants and living creatures were impacted by variables like zero gravity…yeah, there were plenty of bone density studies he could reference. And Cora-san was right, things could be easier in tutoring if he and Law shared some of the coursework. Plus if they were together, Law could study what was causing Cora-san to struggle in classes; maybe scold him if he got distracted, for example. Cora-san seemed to respond well to strict, rigid structure. Or gentle guidance. Or any attention Law would give him, really.

Law’s fingers tightened around his pen as his stomach fluttered. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He’d had crushes on a couple classmates before; surface-deep attraction, he knew that. He hadn’t been invested enough to find out if they’d be interested in him at all; and usually, the crushes faded as soon as he changed schools anyway, so they were harmless. But if he was starting to notice things about Cora-san that held his eyes a little longer than the other classmates…if he started getting happy when Cora-san was excited, or felt guilty when Cora-san was sad…if Law was modifying his behavior for the sake of Cora-san’s happiness…fuck, he was getting things all mixed up. He’d never had a friend before, and he was getting too invested in that connection (if it even existed, don’t think Law was stupid enough to believe a couple weekly study sessions and one trip to the diner made for real friendship!) and signals were getting crossed in his head. Tons of people were able to have connections to people that didn’t necessarily bleed over to sexual attraction; why couldn’t Law be normal?!

He really should skip astronomy. Really, he should. If his head was this messed up now, he could only imagine how bad things would be next semester. But if he didn’t do this…they weren’t going to see each other over summer break, in all likelihood. Cora-san was probably going to skip town as soon as that final bell rang and spend all summer traveling the world on like, a private yacht or family jet or stay on the family space station orbiting the planet! And then he’d come back to school, and if he found out Law wasn’t in any of his classes, that gap created over summer break would widen further. And then Law wouldn’t even have their afternoons in the library, or book club, or anything that bore a passing resemblance to socializing. And that sounded miserable, honestly.  

Fine. He'd do it. He'd take a soft class with his study buddy and spend the summer time trying to get his head and his dick to cooperate. He’d be Cora-san’s classmate in a purely friendly and platonic sense, and nothing about it would be weird or pervy or anything untoward. With that, he put up his potential class schedule and forced himself to climb into bed, shut off his light, and go to sleep.

-n-

“Hey, Law?”

“Hmm?”

Law watched as Cora-san fidgeted in his chair. He felt nervous, clearly; or maybe it was guilt? Had he forgotten another assignment and now Law would have to help him scrape together a passing grade? Already irritated, Law (possibly unkindly) asked, “What did you do?”

“Ack!” Cora-san immediately reached for his phone, and Law kicked himself internally. Damn it, why couldn't he stop frightening Cora-san? The world was scary enough, Law didn't need to make things worse. He needed to smooth things over. Otherwise they’d be back to square one, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Cora-san’s overuse of emojis again. His face was stupid enough on its own without all those asinine smiley faces and sparkles and hands in ridiculous poses that he liked to use to emphasize a typed up statement. Messaging like that made Law want to do something tactile to actual Cora-san. One day, Law was really going to squish that face or pinch those cheeks; and there could be no going back from that.

“You don–” But before Law was able to get his apology out, Cora-san’s hand was drifting away from his phone and curling into a fist on top of his notebooks. 

“I…uhm…” Cora-san took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on his notebook in front of him. “So…I…well.” He cleared his throat and folded his free hand over the other one, squeezing tightly. His shoulders heaved with another breath and beyond the mop of curly golden hair, Law could see that his eyes were screwed shut. This was a monumental task for Cora-san, and as painful as it was, Law was going to have to be patient with him. “You know…”

Even if it killed him. 

Another deep breath followed by a slow exhale. There was a glint of brown eyes as Cora-san peeked up at him. “Helmeppo told me some of the girls from Shakky’s are…there’s a…uhm..a house party,” he said. His eyes darted back down and out of view again. Another long stretch of silence followed, and Law had to resist the urge to do something unkind, like tap the tip of his pen against his notebook impatiently. There was studying to be done, and Cora-san needed all the help that he could get; but trying to rush a selectively mute kid to speak was a Dick Move. Law was far from kind, but even he had his limits on being shitty to other kids in need. Adults…that could be more of a case-by-case basis.

However, even Law’s patience had an upper threshold. There didn’t seem to be any followup to Cora-san’s confirmation that Helmeppo had learned nothing from last semester and was well on his way to being up a creek with grades this term too, if he was focused on getting drunk in a stranger’s living room when spring midterms were only a few weeks away. Instead of taking that sentence to its hopefully logical conclusion (namely, Cora-san telling Law that Helmeppo was a lost cause, just bilk him for extra money now before the dumbass got expelled) they were just waiting and waiting for Cora-san to finish his sentence. Maybe Law shouldn’t have drunk all that coffee, because he was starting to feel like he was ready to crawl out of his own skin if Cora-san didn’t get to the point soon.

“He said I’m invited and that you should come,” Cora-san finally blurted out.

Law’s answer was immediate and reflexive. “Why the hell would I do that?!”

Cora-san let out a startled squeak; dear god, forget being a puppy dog, was Cora-san a mouse now?? But then he settled, and he was unlocking his phone for some reason. “Well, it would be a good chance to socialize,” Cora-san began with his eyes glued to the phone, and with dawning horror Law realized that Cora-san had made a list of reasons they should go to this stupid party. “The host usually is great at having a lot of food and drinks you can pick from, so allergies aren’t a problem! And you can catch up on what other people are doing; or, you know, it’s really not that important to talk to a lot of them, you can just get their social media names and add them and then ignore most of what they say, it’ll still count the same-”

“That sounds like a colossal waste of my time,” Law interrupted. “Why would I go to some random party with obnoxiously loud music and even more obnoxiously loud drunks who are going to spill booze all over me while trying to find someone to grope?”

Cora-san’s mouth froze halfway open. His eyes skimmed the rest of the list, before he finally set down his phone. He fidgeted in his seat for a minute, and Law was about to turn back to his homework and pray this was the end of Cora-san’s stupid ideas, when Cora-san finally started speaking again. “And…Law, there’s one more reason.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s…you…you’re a grump!”

“...what?”

“A big grouchy grump!” Cora-san loudly denounced, getting them shushed by the librarian from behind her desk. “All you do is study and complain about studying and tell me to study harder, and if that keeps up your head is going to explode or you’ll have a stroke or fall into a coma and only wake up a month after finals and then you’ll have to move to the countryside and start work at a failing grocery store where your only company will be all the unmarried teenage girls in town!”

What…what even was that last option, some stupid webcomic plot?! “I-”

“You need rest!” Cora-san whisper-shouted at Law. He was finally making eye contact with Law, and there was heat and a fiery passion there that Law had yet to see outside of book club. “And yeah, maybe it’ll be stupid and we’ll leave after like an hour and you’ll never want to do it again, but you should at least try!” Another round of shushing from the librarian had Cora-san clamming up; he probably rightly calculated that getting them kicked out would make him persona non grata to Law.

“Tch,” was all Law offered in response. First Dadan and now Cora-san?! Were they teaming up against him?! No, that was impossible. There was no way that Cora-san could have run into his foster mother out and about, unless he’d gotten very lost on the way home one day. No. Which meant an even worse truth. The two of them had independently come to the conclusion that he needed a life. That he was boring and needed to get out of the house more, stop studying so much. It was kind of offensive and…maybe there was something to it.  

Cora-san had friends and got invited to parties. Money probably helped make that a reality, but he at least had a decent enough social presence that no one seemed inclined to publicly mock him for hobbies like reading cheesy romance novels and playing trumpet. Law studied and sometimes read for fun and…did book club, as of last month. Absently, he dragged the tip of his pen across the page, drawing swirling loops and sharp spikes. Why was this an issue now, though? Cora-san hadn’t said anything last semester!

Had he just been waiting to see if Law had a secret fun side that would actually be enjoyable to hang out with? What if book club actually hadn’t gone that well? Maybe Law had pushed Cora-san too far with the teasing, and Cora-san needed some proof that Law wasn’t a cynical jackass? What if Cora-san was trying to make a point? What if he was planning on dumping him as a friend if he wasn’t more interesting? That would definitely make astronomy class awkward. 

Fine. Law would go to the stupid fucking party and pretend to have fun and stay out reasonably late for Dadan to think he was following her directions. Fine. But that didn’t mean he was going to be one of the last ones out. “Ten minutes and then we’ll leave if it sucks,” Law bargained, folding his arms over his chest and fixing Cora-san with his coldest, firmest stare. 

Cora-san, in a betrayal of all things weak and puppy-like that Law had come to associate with him, actually pushed back. “Ten minutes is barely anything! Thirty, and then we can leave if you want. That’s enough time to make a circle and have a drink,” Cora-san shot back. He crossed his arms too, but there was a smile on his face; like he thought this was a fun game and not Law trying to bargain for his sanity. 

“Fifteen minutes. No circle, a non-alcoholic drink.”

“Twenty-five. No circle. One drink whose alcohol content will be determined by whoever is handling the mixers.” 

Law narrowed his eyes. “Twenty minutes. No circle. We can share a drink from a can, nothing mixed.” 

Cora-san beamed at him, holding his hand out towards Law. “It’s a deal!” 

“Ugh.” Law flicked his pen against Cora-san’s hand. “Don’t look so proud of yourself. You have a quiz tomorrow morning and we haven’t even started studying for it. I trust you made flashcards? Like I recommended?”

“...erk…” 

Feral, sadistic glee lit up Law’s eyes. “In that case, get your pen and notecards, Cora-san. We have quite a bit to get done before you can even think of going to a party.” Law was a big enough person to admit that he took a bit of glee in the frightened whimper Cora-san let out. Turnabout was fair play.

-n-

“You know I’m going to a party, right? A house party?” Law stood in the doorway of the kitchen, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt and eyes peeking at the large, hunched over form of Dadan.  

Dadan didn’t even look up from the crossword she was working on, a cigarette smoldering between her fingers. “Mm, have fun.” 

“Like, a party without parents,” Law offered. Everyone, especially adults, knew the implications of a teenage house party without parents. It meant chaos! Alcohol, drugs, fire and wanton endangerment and unprotected sex! Law hadn’t checked the most recent statistics, but he would hazard a guess that at least a quarter of teen pregnancies happened at unsupervised house parties (not that he needed to worry about that). 

“Okay, I hear ya. Six-letter word for the guy who brokered the peace treaty between Luveel and Skypiea?” Dadan asked, taking a long drag on her cigarette and flicking the ashes in the general direction of her ashtray.

“Noland,” Law answered without hesitation. “You know a rich kid party without parents means…alcohol, right?” 

“Hm.” Dadan stubbed out the remnants of her current cigarette and reached blindly for the next with her eyes still fixed on the crossword. “Call me if you need a ride home. Don’t get on any motorcycles with drunk chicks, no matter how tight their leather pants are. Trust me.” 

“They might break stuff. Like furniture, or cars, or the house.”

“Well based on what I know about the weirdos at your school, their parents should have plenty of funds to cover that.”

“But…like…”

“Oh wait, hold up right there,” Dadan commanded as she suddenly set down the crossword puzzle. “I need to get you something, one sec.”

Law had no idea what Dadan was going to get as she leveraged herself out of her recliner, and could only hope that she was perhaps getting a pair of handcuffs that he could use to chain himself to her house and not have to go to this stupid party. Here he stood in the living room, awkwardly shifting from side to side in clothes he’d thrifted from the secondhand vintage store that one of Dadan’s friends owned, in some vain hope that he’d be able to blend in. Pfft, like they wouldn’t immediately clock him wearing clothes that were actually ancient and not just made to look that way.

“Here we go!”

Law turned towards the hallway and saw the one thing that might actually motivate him to leave the house: Dadan, strutting towards him with an entire ream of condoms held aloft for him to see. “Look, not gonna lie, I have no idea what size your dick needs and I’m good with never finding out, but these should work-”

“I have to catch the bus,” Law interrupted as he all but sprinted towards the front door.

“C’mon kid, you’re the one always going on about safety first!” Dadan called out, her laughter echoing behind Law as he jerked open the door and slammed it shut behind him. Well fuck. Now he couldn’t come back until it was late enough that he could be sure Dadan was asleep and wouldn’t hear him scouring the house for all her condom stashes with the intention to torch them. Fuck. Could tonight get any worse?

-n-

Yes. The answer to his question was absolutely yes.

Everything started going downhill the minute that Law got to the park where Cora-san had suggested they meet up, saying something about parking being a pain at Hibari or Hitori or who the fuck ever’s house, and maybe Law would be ok with walking the last little bit? His watch suggested he was running pretty close to time, but on initial inspection it looked like Law had beaten Cora-san to the park. No sign of the giant oaf…but…wait, Law recognized that car!

Fuck, it was the would-be abductor from the band performance! What was he doing here?! Law was about to book it, when the back door suddenly opened up and…Cora-san came out.

Law felt his face heat up as several things suddenly shifted into place. Of course. Of course a rich prick with zero hand-eye coordination like Cora-san couldn’t be trusted to drive himself to places, so his family would employ a driver. And of course that driver had wanted to keep an eye on Cora-san going out with some stranger his family had never heard of, so he’d followed them to Porche’s. And of course Cora-san hadn’t batted an eye to that, because why would he freak out about his driver? Oh fuck, Law had flipped off the Donquixote family driver.

While Law was debating how far he’d have to run to escape this social suicide he’d inadvertently committed, Cora-san had caught sight of Law. He raised a hand to wave at Law, catching his attention, and scurried over to him. And this was the second act in the horror show of Law’s evening, because Cora-san looked way too good.

He was wearing loose, off-white slacks that probably cost more than some people’s monthly rent. A plain, form-fitting designer t-shirt clung to his chest and stomach, molding against the muscles. That's right, muscles. Since when did Cora-san have muscles?! He was a soft boy with a personality like fluffy marshmallows so how dare he be hiding a body like that under his school uniform. The jacket he wore tonight, powder blue and puffy, only served to frame Cora-san’s body and draw the eyes right to the most delicious bits. The only thing out of place in the whole ensemble was a pink hat on Cora-san’s head, the strings of which dangled down past his face and terminated into twin pink hearts at about nipple height. What the hell, Law had thought a pair of closely fitted black jeans and a decently thick jacket that he’d found at the back of the rack would suffice! Sure, these clothes were probably older than the both of them combined, but they looked practically new and didn’t have any holes in them, and yet he still felt like he’d gotten them out of the trash compared to Cora-san, who managed to look so classy and dorky all at once. 

He was so busy spiraling that he didn’t even react to Cora-san tripping over his feet and absolutely biting it in the grass. So what if there were grass stains now, he’d probably have them stop off at his personal tailor on the way to the party and get a brand new outfit, fuck, Law was completely out of his depth here!

“Ouch,” Cora-san grumbled as he finally peeled himself off the ground and limped up to Law. “Stupid groundhogs…you ready?”

“Yeah, sure,” Law lied.

“Great! It’s a little bit of a hike, like I mentioned. You sure that’s ok? My driver-”

“Walking is great,” Law quickly declared, because if he got in that car there was a non-zero chance that he’d never emerge from it alive.

“Great! Just follow me.”

-n-

The next fifteen minutes were mostly a painful exercise in Cora-san trying to make small talk and Law half-listening and giving non-answers as he panicked about the party. Fuck, if this was what Cora-san considered casual, exactly what were the people who actually cared going to be dressed like?!

He’d find out soon enough. Their destination was one of several mansions on the northwest hills of Dressrosa; new money, most of them, based on what Dadan had told him. Well at least he could hopefully avoid any rick pricks trying to accuse Cora-san of bringing poor blood to the party. They walked through the gatehouse to the community with a casual wave from Cora-san to the guard, who ticked a box on his checklist and buzzed them through. A little ways further along was their destination: a massive three story brick house, lit up from top to bottom with a sloping drive and front yard with enough flowers, topiaries, and classical statues to put some public gardens to shame. Judging from the shadows moving around upstairs and the sea of bodies clustered by some windows, the party was clearly well underway.  

Hibari's driveway was filled with cars, as were most of the street parking spots surrounding the mansion. There were a few people outside smoking (and not regular cigarettes, judging from the smell) but most of the party-goers seemed to share Law’s opinion that it was too cold outside to let their fun spill over into the yard. Allowing Cora-san to lead the way, Law followed him not to the front door, as expected, but rather around the beautifully lush and well-manicured landscape of the yard, along the side of the building and through a gated fence, the combination for which Cora-san read off his phone and punched into the lock.

Law could see more light and movement from the ground floor windows now, and eventually Cora-san led them past a mostly deserted patio to a side door. In the summer, Law was sure this massive pool (and jacuzzi) would be surrounded by people swimming, lounging on the chairs, or hanging around what he was fairly sure was a stage. But then Cora-san was opening the door, and Law’s attention returned to more pressing matters. Only when the door was fully opened did Law finally hear and see more people.

The door led straight into the kitchen, where most people were leaned against a counter or kitchen island and were scrolling on their phones, occasionally looking up to talk to someone or move around the room. A couple of kids had started a game of beer pong on a table across the room, though at the moment it had far more people filming the event than actively participating.

Among the audience was Helmeppo and Koby, the latter of whom was on his phone and looked up as soon as Cora-san stepped into the room. He elbowed Helmeppo, and the pair of them shuffled their way past the audience to Cora-san and Law. “Dude, you made it!” Helmeppo exclaimed, only for his joy to immediately be tamped down by the reminder that Law was here. “Oh! You came too.”

“I was invited,” Law flatly reminded him. “By you.”

“Right, obviously! I didn’t mean…it’s just…this doesn’t really seem like your thing?”

Law glanced at his watch. One minute down.

“There’s a couple weeks until midterms, it’s fine,” Cora-san argued. Out loud. With words, like talking to other people was no big deal and damn it all, Law had really freaked him out, huh? Yet not a trace of that fear was on Cora-san’s face as he turned to smile at Law and said, “I’ll get us some drinks, be right back!” And then he started slinking his way around the counter to try and reach the coolers on the other side, tops wide open with all manner of drinks available for guests between plates of finger foods.

Law turned to Koby and Helmeppo, trying to relax his face into something non-threatening. Maybe if he trapped these idiots in conversation with him, he could burn through the time limit without even having to introduce himself to anyone new. “So. Thanks for the invite.”

“Oh! Yeah, don’t sweat it,” Koby replied for Helmeppo with a nervous laugh. “Seriously, I didn’t know you’d be interested in this kind of thing; next time Hibari throws a party we’ll just ask you directly, instead of making Corazon do it. Err, I mean-!”

“Yeah man, our bad,” Helmeppo concurred, relaxing with the help of a swig from his beer. “I thought Corazon was fucking with us when he said he’d invite you along; uh, I mean, not that he’d lie about that!”

“Yeah, we’re definitely not accusing him of being a liar or anything!” Koby agreed with suspicious haste.

“Yeah, Corazon is…anyway, you’re always going on about studying and last week you broke out the color-coded study calendar for midterms, so we thought your time was spoken for!” Helmeppo hurriedly fibbed in a way that was painfully obvious, but not worth the effort of Law drawing attention to. “Plus like, there’s studies that show if you don’t give yourself breaks every once in a while you’ll crash when it really matters!”

“So we’ll cut loose this weekend and focus up on Monday!” Koby promised, like a plaintiff arguing before a judge.

“...Corazon?”

“Hmm?” Helmeppo looked around at Law’s inquiry. “Oh shit, I think he’s having trouble with the bottle opener. Here,” Helmeppo suddenly thrust his cup out towards Koby, who took it without needing to be told, and then the bowl-cut blond was cutting through the crowd. Leaving Koby and Law alone.

“So…uh…having fun?” Koby asked.

Law looked at his watch. Another six minutes down. “Getting there,” he replied.

Koby chose to interpret those words in a positive light. “Yeah, I always feel weird when I first show up. It helps to find people you know; err, but I guess most of the guests are from our year or up? Except the Shakky girls, but you wouldn’t-”

“Koby!”

Law watched as Koby startled so badly that he sloshed both drinks he was holding. The source of his distress was immediately clear. A blonde girl with skin-tight jeans and a crop top (definitely not right for the season) strutted up to them, all smiles and bouncy ponytail and jewelry that was fashionably understated in a way that told Law he didn’t even want to think about the price tag. “Hey there!” she chirped. “You doing ok?”

“Hibari! Hi!” Koby squeaked out as the plastic of the cups in his hands creaked ominously.

Hibari laughed at this non-answer. “Hi yourself.” She finally noticed Law and turned to give him her full attention. “Hey there. I’m Hibari, your host for the evening! You one of Koby’s friends?”

“Technically his tutor,” Law answered before he could think to lie about it.

“Oh! You’re the genius Koby keeps talking about!” Hibari exclaimed, suddenly piecing things together.

“Hibari!” Koby squawked.

“Genius?” Law repeated.

“Uh-huh. He says you’re super smart, and that’s how he got high enough grades to go with us on a trip to Yukiryu.” Hibari sighed dreamily here. “Have you ever been? I know the slopes aren’t as good for skiing as some other mountains, but the scenery is amazing! And we found this super cute cafe that didn’t mind making our hot chocolate a ‘little stronger’ if we tipped well, you know?”

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Law replied.

“Well think about it for next year, my folks are happy to let us use their cabin if you cover transit and food costs,” Hibari offered, wrongly assuming that she and Law were in the same tax bracket. She whipped out her phone, then, and opened something on it. “What’s your DenDenU handle?”

“Err…”

“Oh wait, do you use VegaGram? I’m trying to build up my following there, but I swear for every one follower I get on VegaGram I had ten on DenDenU! Urgh, it’s so hard when people decide to migrate to a new system…” Hibari pouted.

“I don’t have either,” Law admitted.

“...huh?”

“My folks think it’s a distraction from school,” he lied with the practiced ease of someone who’d sold a similar tale to many students across a number of schools.

“Oh. Shit, sorry,” Hibari quickly apologized, looking flustered in a way that almost made Law feel bad for her. “Yeah I totally get that, some of the girls at Shakky can’t even put on their makeup until they get to school because their parents are complete psychos about that kind of stuff.”

“Psychos about what?”

It was Helmeppo who’d spoken, finally returning with Cora-san and fresh drinks in tow. Law didn’t even wait to hear what Cora-san was offering, he just took the amber-colored bottle from his hands and took a swig. Beer. Something citrusy.

“Law doesn’t have social media,” Koby filled in, making Helmeppo’s eyebrows go up and Cora-san (for some reason) choke on the sip of his drink. “His parents won’t let him.”

“Shit, that sucks,” Helmeppo stated as he took his cup back from Koby’s death grip and raised it to Law. “Sorry dude.”

A sudden burst of electronic audio, accompanied by startled shrieks and laughs from another room, drew Hibari’s attention away from them. She frowned and turned towards the throng of people to the right of the kitchen. “Sorry, guys. Sounds like someone’s messing with my dad’s stereo again; I need to make sure they’re not going to break it.” And with that she was gone, vanishing into the crowd on what was decidedly a downer note. Fuck, Law couldn’t have made that more awkward if he tried. He did another time check (they were thirteen minutes deep now) and took another swig of his drink. They were close. He could do this.

Fortunately for Law, the attention immediately shifted off of him as Helmeppo whacked Koby on the shoulder. “Dude, what the hell?!” Koby demanded.

“What do you mean, ‘what the hell’?! We gave you a clear shot to flirt with Hibari and you blew it, man!” Helmeppo looked to Law now. “Seriously, they’ve been dancing around each other for the past two years and I'm dying! Dude, I’m telling you, ask her out on a date to Porche’s or something already! Corazon, back me up here!”

Cora-san (or was it Corazon?) shrugged and took the beer out of Law’s hands, enjoying a sip of it himself. Well at least he was keeping to his end of the bargain and not forcing a whole drink on Law. He seemed wholly unbothered by his bandmates’ bickering as he smiled at Law. “Be right back, need to step out for a sec,” and what? WHAT?! That wasn’t part of the agreement!

Panicking, Law hardly even waited for Corazon to brush past him before he said, “I’m gonna get some food,” and shoved his way past the bowl-cut brothers towards the food table. Hardly anyone even looked at him. Why had he been so nervous about getting dressed up? He was a no-one to these people, regardless of what clothes he wore. He quietly waited for a pair of girls to finish taking a picture of the table centerpiece and then threw together a plate of everything that looked halfway decent. He debated trying to cut his way back over to Koby and Helmeppo, but quickly decided against that. He needed a little space; and the largely-deserted patio seemed as good a choice as any. He shuffled around the room to go out the way he came, quietly thanking one of the girls who opened and shut the door for him, and found an empty chair at one of the tables. He sat down and started picking at the food; he wasn’t hungry, but at least it was something to do.

“Oi, Corazon! Let me bum one off you?”

The strange request caught Law’s attention. He looked around and couldn’t see the speaker; but getting up from the chair and walking to the edge of the patio revealed a group of boys at the edge of the property, smoking in a little cluster. Corazon was among them, and waved off the request with a casual flick of his wrist.

Law’s fingers curled up into fists at his side. This was why Corazon had to step out?! A smoke break?! Frustration boiled up in Law then. It figured. Tonight had been an exercise in failure from start to finish. Corazon was clearly comfortable enough with other people that talking to them wasn’t an issue; probably because these people, unlike Law, were social and had known Corazon forever and oh yeah, didn’t fuck up his name on a regular basis. Why had Corazon bothered inviting him at all? It was hopeless. Law was a lousy guest and a lousy not-friend and the best thing about him was clearly his ability to make others focus on school. He should have shot down Corazon’s invitation. But that ship had sailed, clearly; the best he could do now was damage control.

Law chucked his half-eaten food into the nearest garbage bin and refused to feel bad for leaving so much of his plate uneaten. He walked along the side of the house, carefully avoiding the smokers, and exited through the main gate, which was still propped open as a number of guests leaned against the brick wall, talking and then glaring at Law for interrupting their private flirting. Law didn’t give a single flying fuck. He’d originally planned to bum a ride off Corazon, but given the events of this evening? He’d need to rush to make sure he didn’t miss the last bus. Otherwise, he’d have the joy of hoofing it halfway across town to get home.

Chapter Text

Corazon had already been buzzing with pure excitement at having gotten Law to come to the party with him, because that meant he’d get more time to spend with Law outside of school and tutoring hours. That, in and of itself, would have been enough to consider the party invitation as a major victory. But then he’d laid eyes on Law at the park and forgotten how to breathe; quite literally, with the unfortunate result that he’d gotten dizzy and had subsequently fallen face-first onto the grass. But who could blame him? Law’s appearance would have brought any man or woman to their knees!

Law looked like a not-that-bad boy from a classic film (minus the cigarette dangling from between his lips and slicked-back hair), casually standing under one of the streetlights, hands shoved in the pocket of his jacket as he shifted from foot to foot with dark hair falling into his eyes. He looked so cool, unlike any of the dweebs that tried to pose as something other than preppy nepo babies at Silvers; and then he’d seen Corazon, and their eyes had locked in a way that inspired the sort of emotional upheaval only seen in the climax of top-tier web novels. Corazon had made the decision, right then and there, that he was going to ask Law out on a proper date tonight. A date that couldn’t be mistaken as just a regular friend outing or be interrupted by his idiot bandmates barging in and demanding tutoring. Something romantic and sweet that would take Law’s breath away and make him want to hold Corazon’s hand and give him at least one kiss, even if it was just on the cheek. Just the thought was enough to make Corazon’s hands shake. 

Unfortunately, this meant he was perhaps not his best self by the time they reached Hibari’s house and joined the party proper. He’d been trying to keep his eyes off Law, because he knew if he started staring then someone was going to notice and say something. Alcohol might help; but he didn’t want to drink too much and embarrass himself in front of Law either. That was why he slipped away for a smoke break so soon after they arrived, wanting to calm his nerves before he asked, or at least attempted to ask, Law out on a date. The hit of nicotine was enough to steady his nerves, and smoking gave him the time he needed to think of how he wanted their subsequent conversation to go. By the time he’d put out the cigarette and tossed the butt into a garbage bin, he felt pretty confident in his battle plan.

Corazon had walked back into the house with a grin on his face, despite the cold that had seeped into the tips of his fingers and turned them red. Koby and Helmeppo were in the same position he’d left them, bickering with each other about Koby’s lack of “rizz” or something. A common enough occurrence anytime they were at a party that had girls. But…there was a noticeably Law-shaped empty space where Corazon was sure he’d been not even ten minutes ago.

“Where’s Law?” he asked.

Judging from the surprised looks on Koby and Helmeppo’s face, Law’s absence was as big a surprise to them as it had been to Corazon. “Oh. Uhh, I think he wanted to get some food? Guess he didn’t come back,” Helmeppo concluded.

“There’s more spots to eat outside or in the living room, he probably went there,” Koby reasoned.

“Or maybe someone from Shakky’s caught his eye, ey?” Helmeppo grinned, elbowing Koby in the side. “I bet Law actually knows how to talk to a girl who’s into him. Girls totally go for the awkward nerd-who’ll-make-six-figures-in-ten-years thing. Right, Kobs? Hm? Hm?” 

Koby’s response was drowned out under the loud buzzing that suddenly filled Corazon’s ears. His stomach churned, and his hands curled into fists as he shoved them into his pockets. Law…with a girl? God, how could Corazon be so stupid, this party was packed with people who’d size up Law and mark him as a solid meal ticket the moment they heard he’d be going to med school! Why oh why hadn’t he kept a closer eye on Law? This was literally the worst thing that had ever happened to anyone, ever, in the entire existence of the world. Corazon had wanted Law to come to this party in the hopes of furthering their potentially, very soon, burgeoning romance. Had he accidentally pushed him directly into the arms of another woman? Or person. Another person, don’t even consider the possibility that Law was 100% straight...

No, no, no. There was no way that could have happened. Corazon wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t mistaken about the vibes between him and Law. Sure, Corazon struggled to voice his thoughts when Law was around, but he knew that they were destined to be together in the end. It was fated in the stars (a pick-up line he’d been working on ever since Law agreed to take astronomy with him). Koby was right, Law probably just wanted somewhere to sit and eat. Helmeppo was an idiot who no one should ever listen to about anything ever, but especially about relationships.

Corazon cleared his throat, trying to put on a smile even though it felt unnaturally tight on his face. “I’m going to find Law. He doesn’t really know anyone else here,” he said and, without waiting for a response, turned and made his way through the crowd towards the kitchen. 

There was no Law at the food table, and no Law by the drinks. He wasn’t in the study, or by the stereo, or in the bathroom, taking a steamy bubbly bath, which in hindsight, had been a pretty ridiculous concern. Why would Law be in the bathtub at a stranger’s house during a party? Well, that was a question to address with little Corazon, later. Once he’d found Law and gotten the pair of them a bit of privacy. Upstairs was next, and unfortunately produced similar results. As in nothing. As in no Law. As in Corazon was starting to panic.  

He stumbled on the staircase, thudding his way down the last four stairs to land on his ass before launching up and making his way outside. He roamed in widening circles around the lawn, peering at the little groups of people that had broken off in the hopes of seeing Law. And still no luck. There could be no denying the truth now. Law was gone.

To make matter worse, Corazon had no way to contact him because he still hadn’t managed to get his phone number because he was a fucking idiot who deserved to be run over by a horse-drawn carriage, just like the protagonist of The Villain Hit Me with His Carriage and Now Wants Me to Be His Bride?! Except he didn’t deserve to be the charming knight steamrolled by an evil overlord boyfriend. He deserved to be the slime monster that cleaned the blood off the weapons in the armory.

What if something bad had happened to Law? What if he’d fallen down a previously unknown and hidden well on the property? What if he’d gotten kidnapped by a stranger who was working for the government and was planning on putting Law’s genius towards nefarious deeds? Or worse, what if Law had disappeared and was now making out with someone else? Truly, there were no good options.

If nothing else, Corazon at least wanted to make sure Law was safe. His next step involved asking everyone he came across outside if they’d seen Law. Most of them gave some variation of “no” or “who?” for an answer, until he spoke with a group of three girls near the front gate that finally gave him an answer. They told him they’d seen a “grumpy” (rude), “hot” (true), guy storming past them down the driveway about twenty minutes earlier. Maybe the crowd had gotten to be too much, and so Law had sought out some fresh air somewhere up the street. Yeah, that would make perfect sense!

Corazon’s feet didn’t even wait for his brain to catch up and he took off down the sidewalk, following Law’s footsteps as fast as his too long legs would take him. Eventually he even left the neighborhood entirely and made his way back to the park where he and Law had met up. If Law was there, sitting silhouetted in the moonlight on one of the swings with the faint streetlights casting shadows across his face in a way that managed to make him even more gorgeous than usual, then Corazon would apologize for leaving him alone with Koby and Helmeppo and a bunch of people he didn’t know and ask Law if he wanted to head to Corazon’s house instead. There, they could be alone and Corazon could follow through with asking him out on a date.

But that didn’t happen. When Corazon arrived at the park it was empty. That meant Law had not only left of his own volition, but was long gone. He must have been really mad to leave like that, without so much as a goodbye, knowing that Corazon couldn’t get in touch with him for the rest of the weekend. Whatever Corazon had done to rile him up must have been truly unforgivable.  

Heart sinking into his shoes, Corazon pulled out his phone. Without Law, there was no point in returning to the party. Corazon had only agreed to come in the first place because he wanted to spend time with Law. No Law? No party. He was going to call his driver and go home. Different priorities were at play now. He needed the rest of the weekend to reflect on what he did wrong (once he worked out what it was) and think of some way to make it up to Law. 

-n-

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Corazon still hadn’t figured out exactly where the evening’s festivities had derailed so violently that Law felt the need to duck and run. And because he had no idea what had been the impetus for Law’s departure, he couldn’t even begin thinking of some way to make amends. Briefly, he’d considered forgoing any admission of guilt and jumping straight to offering himself up to Law for him to do whatever he wanted with Corazon, until Law had felt he’d gotten his pound of flesh. But getting a little hot and bothered under the collar about such an offer convinced Corazon that such an arrangement wouldn’t be properly making amends, because he’d like being at Law’s beck and call too much. Eventually, he’d settled on purchasing a ton of treats from Binks that he knew Law liked, including several slices of pistachio chocolate tart and Law’s favorite fancy coffee. Corazon figured that if this peace offering failed, he would simply prostrate himself at Law’s feet and beg for forgiveness until he got it. Regardless of what he may or may not have done, Corazon didn’t want Law mad at him. Without the proper amount of Law, he would simply wither up and turn into a sad, lonely husk. And so it was with a great deal of determination (and more than a bit of trepidation) that Corazon purchased a concerning amount of snacks and made his way to the library on Monday afternoon.

The relief Corazon felt when he opened the door to the library and saw Law sitting at their usual table was so overwhelming that he forgot to walk, resulting in the door swinging shut on his face again and nearly giving him a bloody nose. Luckily, it seemed that Law hadn’t noticed, because he was still staring down at books when Corazon made his second attempt at an entrance. Corazon made sure to walk with his arm slightly stretched out so that Law’s coffee and the bag of snacks was in easy view. He didn’t have a white flag, but the bag itself had white on it so really it should work the same, right? 

Maybe not.

Law looked up from his notebook as Corazon approached, peering at him with a stoic expression. He responded to Corazon’s smile and offer of gifts by turning back to his schoolwork without a word. Now, Corazon knew he wasn’t an expert at reading people. Doffy had called him socially ignorant (amongst other,decidedly less kind things) whenever Corazon’s people skills came up in conversation, but even he could take a hint. Law wasn’t just mad, he was mad. Oh dear. This might be more than a piece of pistachio chocolate tart could fix.

“Uhm, I got you coffee and some snacks for studying,” Corazon offered, setting the bags close to Law and settling into his spot across the table. He attempted the sunniest smile he could manage in the hopes of melting Law. “There’s even something special in there for you.”

Without even looking up or replying, Law snatched up the coffee and took a sip before going back to his notes. He didn’t ask to see Corazon’s homework, or the grade on the test he took last week, or even yell at him about not finishing his essay for his literature class. 

Corazon started to panic. This was much worse than he had thought. Friendship ending, never becoming a boyfriend level of awful. Fuck trying to figure out what he had done wrong, he was going to have to be indirectly direct. And he was going to have to use his voice because if Law was ignoring him so fully, Corazon doubted he’d be willing to read anything typed out.

“Are you…mad about something?” Corazon asked, as casually as possible, twirling his own straw between his fingers. He managed to keep his voice from going more than one octave higher. A pretty good attempt at hiding his anxiety. 

Law lifted his head, just slightly, enough for Corazon to see the frown on his face and the furrow of his brow more clearly. “Yes.” 

Okay, alright. That was good. They were communicating with each other. Which all the books said was the first step to a healthy relationship. “At me?”

“Yes,” Law mumbled, scratching his pen harshly against the paper. Upon further inspection, Corazon realized that whatever he was writing certainly didn’t look like proper words. More like angry scribbles.

“Why?”

“Tch.” Law snapped his notebook shut. He didn't say anything else as he shoved all his things into his bag and got up from the table. Corazon watched, totally shocked, as Law actually picked up his bag and stormed off from their table, which he’d never ever done before. No goodbye as he walked right past Corazon and out of the library door. He even left behind his coffee! 

Corazon scrambled out of his chair with his usual grace, thudding onto his knees, before launching himself back to his feet, grabbing his peace offerings, and taking off after Law. For the first time in a long time, he was grateful for his long limbs, because as unwieldy as they could be, it was easy to catch up with Law on the sidewalk outside. 

Corazon fell into pace next to Law, doing his best not to slosh coffee every which way as he tried to keep pace with his irate friend. “Law, please, what did I do?” he demanded in an embarrassingly whiny tone. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Law snapped. 

“...” Corazon shook his head, so hard he almost upended himself. “I’m not acting! I thought we were having fun but then you were gone and I looked everywhere for you and I don’t know your phone number and…please. Tell me how I messed up, and I’ll make it up to you.” Desperation crept into his frantic words and his eyes burned. He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t going to stop speaking and shut down because he was tough. But he really wanted to.  

“You left.” Law stopped mid-step, causing Corazon to stumble and nearly face-plant before catching himself and turning around to face Law. 

“I…no I didn’t?”  

“You went outside and left me.”

“Wait, are you talking about the smoke break?” Corazon asked, deeply confused. “That wasn’t leaving!”

“You fucked off and abandoned me with a bunch of people I didn’t know. At a stupid party I didn’t even want to go to! Just so you could smoke as soon as we got there!” Law jabbed his finger towards the center of Corazon’s chest, and though there was fire in his eyes, there was something unmistakably sad underneath his fury. Like he’d been betrayed by Corazon walking off for those five minutes; which, what? Normally Law seemed perfectly happy to be left on his own; what was the issue?

“I’m sorry…” Corazon started. He took out his phone, needing a minute to think about his words, because they were already getting tangled up in his head so they’d surely only be worse when spoken aloud. Eventually he managed to type out, “There were a lot of people and I got stressed. You said just one drink, and I didn’t want to get plastered. I thought a cigarette might help me calm down and have an easier time with the crowds.” 

Law was silent, jaw clenching in a way that made it clear he was chewing on the inside of his cheek as he read the words. His eyes drifted towards the sidewalk in front of him, and several strands of hair fell into his eyes as he curled into himself more, messenger bag clutched protectively in front of himself like a shield. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbled. 

“Tell you what?” Corazon asked. “That I was nervous? I thought you’d know.”

“Why would I just know that?!”

“Eek!” The typing resumed at a breakneck pace. “You know me! I’m always a nervous mess. That’s how I spend all of my time. All of it. I’m even nervous in my sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just decide to leave without any-! Look. Just…” Law sighed and glanced to the side, like he was exhausted just having to explain any of this to Corazon. “You knew I didn’t know anyone there. What did you think was going to happen?”

For the first time in their conversation, Corazon felt a bit of annoyance at Law. “I thought you’d hang with Helmeppo and Koby until I came back.”

“So you just dumped me on them?” Law accused.

“NO!” God, why was this turning into such a fight? Corazon quickly started typing again. “I wasn’t going to smoke inside and you hate smoking! And you know Koby and Helmeppo, I didn’t think you’d mind staying with them until I got back!” And then, because he was a little annoyed at Law’s hypocrisy, he added, “I was really freaking out when I came back and you were gone.”

That seemed to cow Law a bit. He hunched his shoulders and frowned down at the phone. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I…yeah, sorry.”

“Please don’t do it again,” Corazon asked.

“...it wasn’t just that.”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” Law clarified, his voice going even quieter, to the point that Corazon had to lean forward to catch the rest. “It’s Corazon. Not Cora-san. I’ve been calling you the wrong name basically since we met, and you never told me. But everyone else at the party called you Corazon, and…” 

Corazon blinked, twice, and then flushed so hot he was surprised his clothes didn’t incinerate right then and there. He’d thought…but Law actually hadn’t…so it was all…oh. “Uhh…I mean, technically my name is Rocinante.” 

Law whipped his head up. “The fuck?!”

“But!” Corazon continued quickly, because this was a very specific sort of confusion that other people had brought up to him before, and so addressing it verbally was actually quite doable. “Everyone’s called me Corazon since I started school. It’s like, a nickname? Blame my brother for it. And like, no one but my family calls me Rocinante. And with Doffy, err, Doflamingo, my brother? He usually only does it when he’s being sarcastic or something.” 

“...that’s still not Cora-san. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?! Did you think it was funny that everyone else knew and I didn’t?” Law demanded.

“Oh well…it wasn’t that. It was just, uhm, you see.” Corazon cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. He had to look everywhere else but Law because he was pretty sure if he saw his face, he would spontaneously combust. The phone was once again brought into play; some things were better read on a screen than spoken aloud, and this was one of them. “Everyone always calls me Corazon because Doffy called me that. So when you called me Cora-san, it felt like you did it as a sign of affection. It felt like something a friend would do. I wasn’t trying to tease you.”

The redness dusting Corazon’s cheeks by the end of typing that message was matched only by Law’s cheeks upon reading it. An awkward silence descended between them, only broken up by a group of people brushing past Corazon and Law on the sidewalk, reminding them that, oh yeah, they were in public. Law pulled it together before Corazon and thrust the phone back into Corazon’s face. “Let’s not…let’s go sit somewhere, ok?”

That somewhere turned out to be the top floor of Binks, mercifully empty of students given the hour of the day. Corazon and Law shoved themselves into seats at the long bar running against the exterior window (rather cold, given the time of year and apparent lack of weather-proofing around the glass) as Law slowly began extracting supplies from his bag in a way that made Corazon hopeful they’d be staying put for a while. “You still should have said something,” Law groused. “Do you have any idea…it was fucking embarrassing to hear everyone else calling you Corazon, do you get that?”

“I really thought you knew,” Corazon murmured. He took a sip of his drink, now lukewarm and decidedly less appealing than it had been upon initial purchase. No wonder Law had bolted. Not only had he felt like Corazon was fobbing him off on other people, but that the whole party was in on some joke that Law was on the outside of. Corazon probably would have run too; and cried on top of that.

“...why’d you ask me to go to a party if you knew you were going to hate it?”

“I thought I’d hate it less with you there,” Corazon admitted. “If you were having fun, it’d be fun for me, too.”

Law looked at Corazon the same way he had in the week leading up to finals last term; namely, like Corazon was the dumbest invertebrate that had ever dared to crawl ashore out of the primordial ooze. “Why the fuck would I want to go to a house party? They’re loud and crowded and full of idiots making bad choices-”

“-I’m sorry!” Corazon barked out; then, realizing they’d attracted a bit of attention from his outburst, he adjusted his tone and volume. “It’s just, we only hang out for tutoring. I wanted to do something that wasn’t school-focused. That’s all.”

“Well…” Law didn’t seem to know how to finish that statement. He reached for his drink and took a long sip, before opening his notebook. It was like he was trying to ignore Corazon now; but at least he hadn’t run off again.

Corazon got partway through his drink, and Law finished most of his tart before speaking again. “You…I wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t invite me,” Law stated. “And if you only went because I was coming…maybe we shouldn’t do that again.”

Corazon felt his heart sink. Was this Law’s way of saying he just wanted them to be school associates? “Ok. That makes sense.”

“Right. Next time…make it something like when we went to the diner.”

Corazon choked on his snack.

Law eventually got him breathing again, after a few pointed thumps on the back; and then it was straight back to scolding Corazon. “It doesn’t have to be exactly like that, idiot. But we…like, it wasn’t as stressful as the party, right? So we’ll just do something more low-key, no crowds, and then-”

“-Sleepover!”

“...the fuck?”

“Do you-! Uhh, what if we do a sleepover at my place?” Corazon offered, the gears whirling in his head and trying to catch up with the offer his mouth had made before the idea was properly and fully formed. What the hell, he should have started with offering to go do mini-golf or something!

“That’s…won’t your parents mind?”

“They’re out of the country right now,” Corazon replied immediately, because surely the promise of a totally empty house would be a bigger draw to Law, given his apparent aversion to other people who weren’t Corazon around him. “It’d just be you and me! We could get some food, watch a movie or play some games, and…whatever else sounds good!”

Law hadn’t rejected the offer yet, and Corazon was going to take that as a win. “Think about it,” he casually tossed out, like his entire mental wellbeing was riding on getting an agreement from Law. Maybe he’d been too gung-ho with the party thing. Maybe it would be better to let Law sit with the offer for a day or two, and then Corazon could bring it up again (once he had a more concrete battle plan), and then-

“Ok.”

“??”

“We can try that,” Law agreed. “Pick a weekend and I’ll see if it works. But no promises, ok?”

Corazon was so excited his words failed him again, and he eagerly nodded at Law. Law wasn’t refusing to be his friend, he’d just gotten overwhelmed and embarrassed at the party! Now to pick a weekend. Think, think-!

“How about after book club?” It seemed like the perfect idea in his brain. It would give them a few more days to get back into their normal routine, and by virtue of it being a club meeting day, they’d already be together after school anyway. Surely Law wouldn’t have anything else planned to follow, given that he seemed to always beeline for the library even on non-club days.

“...sure. After book club.”

Excellent! Redemption arc, here we come!

-n-

In the days leading up to the slumber party, Corazon went above and beyond to make sure everything at the house was perfect for Law’s visit. Law was clearly uncomfortable with a lot of people being around, so Corazon paid the staff to take the day off early. That way, there could be no one in the mansion to bother their private time. He told his driver that a lift home from school wouldn’t be necessary; he and Law could take the bus together! Corazon had even downloaded the Dressrosa Rapid Transit, or DRT, app in preparation.

Second, he made sure they had an abundance of entertainment options. He ordered a new game system and the top ten releases tied to it, all downloading directly to the console as he tried to pick the best movies to have on standby. Nothing romantic yet (Corazon wasn’t stupid enough to think he could get away with asking for a date without buttering up Law a bit more after all that had happened at the party) and anything historical or documentary-style might actually have the opposite effect on creating a romantic evening if Law, being a brilliant future doctor, become too fascinated by the subject matter they were discussing, which was sure to go over Corazon’s head besides. He settled for having a few action movies on standby.

Then there was the matter of food…pizza should work. But what if Law’s bread thing extended to pizza crust?! Well then, Corazon needed to have wings on standby too. And naturally that meant veggie dippers and sauce, and they needed a couple drink options, and desserts, and…well, suffice to say, by the time Corazon had put in the order for Friday delivery (you had to order ahead on university game nights, he’d learned that from complaints posted on the pizza shop’s reviews) he’d bought out most of the options listed on the menu and scheduled it for delivery. He picked a time for delivery around dinner and hoped that he and Law would be able to tear themselves away from whatever they were doing long enough to bring the food inside.  

Lastly, aesthetics. Corazon had made sure the guest room was freshened up with the finest Alabasta-cotton sheets on the bed, with an assortment of soaps, hair products, and skincare offerings laid out in the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what, if any, of it Law might use, but Doflamingo had been complimented enough by his parade of one-night stands that Corazon felt comfortable raiding his brother’s stash to help freshen up the guest bathroom. And then there was the matter of his own clothing. Law had obviously felt out of place at the party, so Corazon wanted to make sure that he was dressed casually for the night. He needed to show Law that the family manor was home, and Law should treat it as such. After all, one day when they got married, it would be.

Heart buzzing with excitement, Corazon could hardly get to sleep the night before the slumber party. Sure, he and Law had had a few missteps, but with this sleepover they’d be back on track to dating before the school year was done!

Chapter Text

Law was relatively certain that a sleepover at Cora-san’s was going to be the thing that killed him.

He was already at the end of his tether here.  First he’d had the stress of Hibari’s party, then the fallout from that disaster.  God, why did he have to blurt out his stupid issues about being left alone, and on top of that, that thing about Cora-san’s name?  He could have just changed up his habit and started calling the guy Corazon, like apparently everyone else did (even though his name was actually Rocinante, and what in the absolute fuck was that about?!).  But then Cora-san had said he liked that Law gave him a nickname because it meant they were really friends or something, so now if Law tried to change things it would obviously come off as him passive-aggressively insinuating that they weren’t friends!  Which, obviously they weren’t, but Cora-san thought they were and if Law pointed out that they clearly hadn’t met the proper friend criteria  to be real friends (which was a thing, yes it was, for sure), then future tutoring sessions and book club meetings and the like would be incredibly awkward.  Damn it, Cora-san.  Now Law couldn’t call the guy Corazon without it sounding really weird.

Furthermore, who gave Cora-san the right to unilaterally decide they were friends?!  Law should have gotten a say in that!  But no, Cora-san had to point out that they spent time together and had apparently bonded and now he wanted to do more outings and a fucking sleepover?  On a Friday night when Law would have absolutely no chance of Dadan forbidding him to stay overnight somewhere else?  Jerk.

The night before the sleepover, Law had lost nearly the whole evening’s study time going through his closet to pick out the right clothes for the weekend.  He’d made Cora-san swear on his limited-edition Return to Whitegrove Estate, volume 1, not to invite anyone else over, nor force the pair of them to go out and so much as pick up a carry-out order.  So in theory, Law could truly wear something casual, meant for lying about the house and nothing more.  But what was classy enough to be casual for someone at Cora-san’s social level?

He couldn’t go back to Mogra’s fashion store this soon after the party and try to pick out another new outfit.  In the first place, he didn’t want to spend the money, and in the second place, if he kept buying clothes and acting like he cared about his appearance before going out with Cora-san, then Dadan might notice and get ideas that Law was trying to impress Cora-san for carnal reasons of the homosexual variety, and that could put Law’s housing at risk.  And that was so patently unfair, Law refused to become homeless and fail out of school because his foster mother thought he had a thing for a straight boy and was acting upon it.

Rifling through his dresser again, Law mentally reminded himself that the weather tomorrow would be slightly chilly, and Cora-san had insisted he was fine taking the bus (a fact that Law, who had still not determined how to face the driver he’d flipped off, was rather grateful for).  He could probably get away with packing a sweater or jacket and changing out of his blazer before they went home; those eyesores were ugly at best, and did a terrible job keeping out the cold.  As one might expect for uniforms belonging to students of a social class who would never have to worry about being without central heat and air for longer than it took to walk between their private school and private vehicles.  At the house, however…

Law packed the thickest pair of sweat pants he owned; a dark and plush fabric that would make it absolutely impossible for anyone to look through it and see the back of his legs.  He’d change in the bathroom, making sure there was a locked door between him and Cora-san, and hopefully the dweeb wouldn’t ask too many questions if Law came out wearing something that really belonged more to the heart of winter than the beginning of spring.  Beyond that…he found an old Soul King hoodie that Dadan had nicked for him during their back-to-school shopping trip that didn’t look half bad.  It was definitely older than Law, but he could sell it to Cora-san as vintage chic if there were any questions.  He thought about it, then packed a t-shirt too, just in case Cora-san kept the heat cranked up.  Add in some underwear, a backup change of clothing in case anything was spilled on the first outfit, clothes for Saturday, the Bepo socks (just in case something happened and he couldn’t come back for them), a few toiletries…well, by the time it was all said and done, Law’s tiny duffle bag was practically filled to bursting.  Fuck.  Hopefully it would fit in his locker.  Otherwise he’d have to see if they ever bothered to fix the broken lock on the greenhouse after he and Cora-san finished their project, and stow it there.

-n-

In hindsight, Cora-san would thank his lucky stars for book club preceding their sleepover.  At first he’d wanted to rush straight home after the final bell rang and the homeroom teacher dismissed them; but if Corazon had actually gone straight to the house, there was a chance he’d get too hung up on deciding what they should do first to maximize their fun, and end up spiraling and making Law take the lead.

Book club, considering that it was just going to be the pair of them again, was a great first activity.  Once again, Law arrived in the classroom after Corazon, and once again, his inquiries about the other members were met with a response that they’d be the only two people today.  Eventually Corazon was going to have to fess up that it had only ever been the two of them…or maybe he could lie and say everyone else had dropped out.  That option felt slightly less likely to end with Law ripping his head clean off his shoulders.

Once they got into the discussion proper, Corazon was even more certain that book club had been the correct starting point.  Today must have been a rough day for even a genius like Law, because he’d come into the classroom looking stiff and uneasy, face pinched up in a frown and gorgeous fingers fidgeting with the strap of his duffle bag even after it was set on the floor.  But all that tension seemed to melt away as soon as they got into the meat of volume two of Return to Whitegrove Estate.   There was a lot more Winnie in this volume; something he and Law both attributed to the author realizing that not only was the pet a fan favorite, but also that getting more people enamoured with a mascot character could help with the creation and sustainment of merchandise sales.  Corazon was even able to show Law a fun fact he’d discovered; that the uptick in paid downloads and community-driven crowdfunding for character merch at this point in the series’ publication history was part of the reason the author had quit one of their jobs to spend more time writing. “I think that’s why the story flows better now,” Corazon explained. “They were able to just write bigger chunks for longer stints of time, instead of only being able to squeeze in a couple paragraphs here and there and struggling to put out more than one chapter a month.”

“Really?  I feel like there’s more padding now,” Law admitted. “Like volume one has so many major plot moments, but this volume was a lot more slice-of-life scenes and asides that didn’t impact the main story.  Almost like they were making a list of events they wanted to get set up now, before future volumes.” He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “Except until I read those volumes later, I won’t know if it was foreshadowing or just the writer trying to hit some minimum word count before posting the next chapter.”

Corazon hardly batted an eye at these words; he was a veteran at fielding online complaints, and he’d heard similar arguments a dozen times before. “That’s because earlier they had to rush along the story beats to get readers interested at all!  Once they were in a better financial position, they actually had time to play around with the characters and develop them more!”

Law smirked at him. “Right.  Like implying Gisele had an even higher body count than originally suspected.” Corazon couldn’t help but sputter at these accusations; how dare Law besmirch the lady of the house like that!

And so it went, until once again the advisor booted them out of the classroom.  This time, however, they wouldn’t be going to Binks.  This time, Corazon would get to bring Law home with him!  They walked down the street towards the nearest bus stop, Law somewhat encumbered by his bags but refusing to let Corazon help him with either of them. “So how long until the bus gets here?” Law asked when they finally stopped and took a seat.

“Not long,” Corazon promised as he brought up the app.  He’d already mapped out the quickest route back in homeroom, so all he had to do was see when the next bus would arrive-

“Careful!” Law barked as he grabbed the back of Corazon’s shirt and yanked him back and away from where he’d been about to step off the curve. “God, this is why you’re not supposed to be on your phone when you’re walking…are you even listening?”

Corazon, to be clear, was listening to Law, because unless Law was doing something distracting like rolling up his sleeves or licking his lips it was impossible for Corazon not to listen to him.  But right now, he had more pressing matters to concern himself with than apologizing to Law.  He’d just seen the bus schedule.  And the bus for the line he’d been planning to take wasn’t going to arrive for nearly thirty minutes.

Instantly, Corazon began to sweat.  They must have just missed the previous bus; and it seemed a poor start to their sleepover to have to wait close to half an hour to get on a different one! “Ahh, it should only be a few more minutes,” he fibbed as he quickly scrolled through the list of other bus lines that went through this stop and checked their arrival times.  Well, he’d initially seen a couple different routes to get to his house.  Maybe he could just take one of these buses going in the same general direction as the one he’d originally planned on, and then change somewhere along the way.  The town was full of buses; how hard could it be to find a different route home?

-n-

Nearly an hour later, Law had come to the conclusion that Cora-san would make an absolutely terrible serial killer, because he’d get tripped up on the first step; namely, kidnapping.

It was painfully obvious that Cora-san either had no idea where they were going or had taken a wrong turn somewhere, because they’d changed buses twice already and didn’t seem to be any closer to their final destination.  Cora-san kept checking his phone and then looking out the window, as though desperately seeking some landmark or magic portal that would spit them out at his house.  Law’s anxiety at going to Cora-san’s house had long since given way to annoyance; carrying his bags on and off the buses was a pain, as was trying to keep everything on his lap when they stopped off at a bus station.  Finally, when they approached a downtown stop Law was relatively familiar with, he stood up and told Cora-san, “Let’s go.” Cora-san, doubtlessly sensing Law’s annoyance, quietly stood and shuffled off the bus behind him.

Law did him the kindness of waiting until they were a little ways off from the bus stop crowd, and took a seat on the concrete barrier that surrounded a nearby fountain in front of a bank. “You don’t have a clue where we’re going, do you?”

“...no.”

Law sighed, feeling a headache coming on. “Did you ever have any clue?”

“Yes!  But we missed the bus we needed, and the next one wasn’t going to arrive forever-”

“So what, you thought we’d try hopscotching around different lines until you hit something going the right way?” Law asked incredulously.  The DRT was notoriously hard to navigate, even with the help of an app; Cora-san thought he could just muddle his way through and it would all work out?!  Fucking rich people.

“Maybe if you took over…” Cora-san offered as he extended his phone towards Law.

Absolutely not, even with Law at the helm it would probably be an hour or more before they got close to his home. “Call your driver and tell him where to pick us up,” Law ordered.  Yeah, he’d be forced to have a terribly awkward conversation with the person behind the wheel, but maybe he’d be forgiven after recounting today’s episode of saving Cora-san from himself.  

Cora-san pathetically hunched down on the concrete beside Law and called his driver.  Their conversation was brief, and once he hung up, Cora-san informed Law that the driver had pinged his phone for coordinates and was roughly eighteen minutes away.  What followed was the most awkward eighteen minutes of Law’s high school life thus far.  Cora-san seemed to sense that Law was rather annoyed at him for this turn of events, and let his few attempts at small talk die off relatively quickly.  Law, meanwhile, was quite content to stew in his frustrations until the car arrived.  Let this be a lesson to Cora-san moving forwards; just admit when you didn’t know something and save other people the headache of cleaning up after you!

By the time the car arrived, Law was in a slightly more charitable mood; he should have known better than to expect Cora-san to know anything about the world of common riffraff.  And so when Cora-san sprang up and offered to put Law’s bags in the rear of the vehicle, Law decided to let him as a peace offering.  He needed to at least try to get along with Cora-san; unless he wanted to outright cancel this sleepover and explain to Dadan why exactly he was no longer spending the night with a “friend.”

While Cora-san was loading up the bags, Law climbed into the rear seat of the car.  The driver briefly glanced at him in the rearview mirror, then startled and took another look. “Aren’t you the kid who-”

“I thought you were trying to kidnap Cora-san,” Law explained.

“...you know what?  Fair.”

-n-

Ok, so part two of the sleepover couldn’t have gone much worse, short of the bus being hijacked or catching fire.  Stupid nonsensical bus routes; Cora-san was going to have his parents write a complaint to the city council and threaten to withhold election funds unless they fixed it!

But that was ok.  They were in a car now, and driving straight to the mansion where food and games and TV and everything Law might possibly want awaited them!  And Cora-san would be such an amazing host that Law would forgive him for the earlier mistake, and they’d laugh about it over pizza and soda and stay up super late and Cora-san would secure a promise for so many more sleepovers going forwards!  He could fix this.  He had to.

The driver had them at the Donquixote estate in good time, and was all too happy to drive off once Corazon had unlocked the front door, proving that the two teenagers would not end up stranded on the front steps. “Ok, this is it!” Corazon cheerfully announced as they stepped inside. “Food should be on the way in” (and here he checked the time on his phone) “about an hour, so-”

“Holy shit,” Law gasped from behind him.

“Hmm?” Corazon looked around, then cringed when he realized what the issue might be. “Yeah, I know.  My parents wanted to try updating some parts of the house, but dad feels bad about doing too much to renovate the space.  The home’s three hundred and something years old, so he says we’d be getting rid of a lot of character if we ripped up the walls and floors just to make it look like a modern magazine.”  Even as Corazon gave these explanations, he was still certain that Law’s response was targeted at the decidedly outdated appearance of the entryway.

The foyer of the manor was a relatively open area, with light from the windows on the second storey pouring into the space; a relic from a bygone era before electric lighting largely replaced the need for huge, poorly insulated windows and the natural light they let in.  The floor of the foyer was a tiled mosaic depicting the founding king of Dressrosa bestowing honors and property on one of Corazon’s ancestors on his father’s side; and despite recently uncovered evidence in the Dressrosa library archives suggesting that the transition of land and power might not have been as peaceful as the tiles depicted, Corazon’s father, Homing, viewed it as something for his sons to aspire to, rather than teach them a literal historic lesson.  The original intricately carved wood paneled walls still proudly stood in the halls, and beyond the mosaic, the floor transitioned into hardwood covered in ancient carpets (seriously, they were older than some countries, how embarrassing!).  All around them hung family photographs or portraits, depending on the era they’d been commissioned in, and Corazon was quite happy to rush Law through this space and towards the master staircase. “The guest room we’ve got for you looks normal, I swear,” he promised, leading Law upstairs and keeping his eyes dead ahead so he wouldn’t trip. “Like the bathroom is super up-to-date, you can adjust the temperature for each individual showerhead if you want, all four of them-”

“Four?” Law repeated as he followed Corazon.

“Yeah, just four,” Corazon confirmed. “Although if you want a bath instead of a shower-”

“The shower’s fine,” Law hurriedly assured him.  He sounded a little anxious; maybe he was starting to realize some of his questions were coming off a bit rude.  Not that Corazon minded, but it was probably a good thing Doflamingo wasn’t around for this.

“The bathroom has some soap and towels for you, for later,” Corazon promised him.  He led them down a hallway illuminated by scallop-shaped sconces that helped display the murals overhead, footsteps muffled by the plush, burgundy carpet that covered the second storey’s floor, and stopped in front of the guest room closest to his own bedroom. “Here you go!” Corazon declared with a cheerful flourish as he pushed the door open. “Drop your stuff wherever!  I’m gonna get changed, and then we can figure out what to do tonight!”

“...ok…”

Law shuffled into the room and shut the door behind him.  Excellent, things were back on track for them!  Now all Corazon had to do was get out of his uniform and change into something that would be perfect Law bait.

It had taken him hours of combing through fashion blogs and the most saved pictures tagged with “fashion,” “hot boys,” “casual date,” “sexy hangouts,” and variations thereof on Crimi-Clipped accounts, but he’d done it!  The internet had led him to the conclusion that what sexy nerds like Law would most go for, given Corazon’s age, financial status, and shoulder-to-waist ratio was: a form-fitted t-shirt and light, greywash sweatpants.  No shoes.

Corazon was quick to strip out of his school uniform (thankfully toppling in the direction of the bed and not the floor as he did so), get back up, and change into his loungewear.  The majority of the time they were together, Law had seen Corazon in the school’s shapeless uniform.  And during both their diner date and the house party, Corazon had faceplanted directly into grass; hardly a sexy sight!  But now they were on his home turf, and he was going to absolutely woo Law with how “effortlessly attractive” such a getup would make him!  After he washed his face and tousled his hair a little bit.  Which video was it that he needed to reference…

By the time Corazon had achieved the artfully disheveled look that so many protagonists executed to win their love interests, it was nearly time for the food to arrive.  Not wanting to miss the delivery and risk their food getting cold, Corazon burst out of the room with the intention of going downstairs and telling Law the food was nearly here.

Imagine his surprise, then, to find Law standing outside his door in an oversized sweatshirt and thick flannel pajama pants.

“Oh!  Law, you didn’t have to wait for me,” Corazon quickly stated, even as his heart fluttered at the thought of Law being so excited to spend time with him that he hadn’t dared separate from Corazon.

Law’s eyes had barely landed on Corazon, then very quickly (and rudely) turned to the side. “I didn’t know where to go after I got changed,” he flatly replied.

Oh.  Shit.  Corazon had been in such a rush to show Law his bedroom and get changed that he’d completely jumped over taking him to the living room, where the TV and game systems were waiting for him and Law to try out!  “Oh, sorry,” he apologized with a weak laugh that Law did not return. “Umm, we can head downstairs?  The food’ll be here shortly, and…yeah.”

“Lead the way,” Law directed while still very rudely not looking at Corazon and his sexy nerd bait clothing.  Ok, that might be fair if he’d just been standing here for like, fifteen minutes and waiting on Corazon.  A slight setback; but with the power of food and video games and bad TV, they’d bond in no time, and Law would start looking at Corazon again and realize his feelings went so much deeper than mere friendship and, and, why were they still upstairs?!

Just then there was a loud pounding at the door, signaling that their food had arrived a bit early.  Corazon nearly broke his neck scuttling down the stairs, but he couldn’t risk the food getting cold or being stolen by the crows that lived on the edge of the orchard out back!

He managed to make it to the front door in one piece.  Once there, he opened it and looked down to see the bag of food.  His heart immediately sank.  Bags of food was more accurate; three massive plastic bags, to be precise.  Way more than he or Law could possibly eat in one sitting; maybe he’d gone a bit overboard on ordering?

His suspicions were confirmed when he turned around and saw Law just a short ways behind him.  Law’s eyes immediately went to the veritable mountain of food, and his eyes narrowed. “Exactly how many people are coming over tonight?”

“Just us!” Corazon hastily assured him.  Law still didn’t seem convinced, so Corazon was forced to quietly admit, “I may have…ordered too much.”

“...right.”

Law quietly pushed past him to grab one of the food bags, more interested in the contents of it than Corazon. “So where are we eating?  Kitchen?”

“We can eat in the living room,” Corazon assured him as he grabbed the other bags and shut the door. “I just need to get some plates for us!”

The atmosphere was far more tense now as they shuffled back down the hall and around a corner into the living room.  This was a decidedly more modern space; carpet on the floors, couches that might have technically been antiques but were at least from within the last century, and an impressive TV and gaming setup.  Corazon was quick to drop his bags on the table, then heel-turn and scuttle off towards the kitchen.  Fuck, he was blowing it!  He needed to get things back under his control.  Get them fed.  Get them comfortable.  And get Law to relax!

-n-

Law retracted his earlier statement about the most awkward minutes of his life.  This was worse.  This was a thousand, million times worse.  Forget dealing with Cora-san’s driver.  Forget the horrifically massive house he was in that was drenched in opulence and more wealth than anyone should ever be able to amass for themselves.  Forget the mountain of food that would feed ten people, never mind just the two of them, and forget the action flick Cora-san was now suggesting they play that Law couldn’t even pretend to have interest in.  He was doing his best just to hold it together and he knew he was failing and he was going to ruin the sleepover because he couldn’t stop staring at Cora-san’s massive dick.

When Cora-san had first come out of his room in his lounge clothes, Law had thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, and averted his gaze accordingly before things could get weird.  But then as Cora-san was puttering around the room, trying to set up food and drinks for them on the coffee table without obscuring their view of the TV, Law had grown convinced that there was a weird bulge of fabric that was unfortunately located in the front of Cora-san’s pants; or maybe when Corazon had gone to the kitchen, he’d grabbed one of those cylindrical potato chip tubes and stuffed it in his pocket for a snack later.  And then Cora-san stood fully upright and stretched, and that was when Law realized that no, it wasn’t a weird trick of the light or something in his pocket, Cora-san was wearing sweatpants au natural and the fabric did nothing to hide what was, inarguably, the biggest cock Law had seen outside porn.

At that point, Law started to wonder (somewhat nonsensically, he could admit) if maybe it was a prosthetic or a fake.  Something Cora-san put on to make himself look bigger and impress Law (because sure, reasonable, that was a sound course of logic!).  But no.  With every shift in his seat and twist of his body as he rearranged himself on the couch, Law was forced to bury that theory deeper and deeper until he could only conclude that Cora-san was packing enough down there to be proportional to the rest of his bulk.

“No wonder he’s always falling over,” Law thought, and then mentally slapped himself because what the fuck, he was not going to start thinking about the dick of a boy who was his only friend and also painfully straight!

“Ok, there we go!” Cora-san announced.  He flopped down next to Law on the couch, extending a plate with way too much pizza on it towards him, and Law quickly snatched it up and very deliberately avoided looking at Cora-san’s crouch to see if that monster had jiggle physics visible through sweatpants. “So!  Movie with dinner.  What should we watch?”

“Whatever you want,” Law said, eyes glued to his food. “It’s your house.”

“Yeah but, you’re the guest.”

Law shrugged, because if someone held a gun to his head right now he wouldn’t be able to name a single non-documentary film, and like hell Cora-san would be interested in that.  And even then, he might make a horny slip of the tongue that would let Cora-san know exactly where Law’s focus had landed tonight.  Stupid penis, hanging there for everyone to see!  Didn’t Cora-san have any shame?!

“Erm, lemme just scroll until we find something we both want,” Cora-san quietly offered, and shit, he sounded so upset!  Fuck, this night was supposed to be about fixing Cora-san’s hurt feelings after the party!  But Law couldn’t deal with Cora-san’s depression and dick at the same time, think, think!  Something that was normal for sleepovers, with no signs of dick but wouldn’t go all night-

“Thriller Bark,” Law blurted out as Cora-san scrolled through a category labeled “Late Night Thrills and Chills.”

“Huh?”

“Thriller Bark.   The original,” Law clarified, because he’d seen both and the made-for-TV remake had bored him to tears.  “It’s a tight ninety minute movie.  Plenty of time to finish dinner.”  And if Law recalled correctly, a good chunk of the run time was half-dressed teenage girls running through the haunted mansion.  Hopefully the ample cleavage and ripped up booty shorts would be enough to distract Cora-san so he wouldn’t notice if Law maybe snuck another peek or two.  For science, honestly.  How exactly did Cora-san not lose consciousness when he got hard and all his blood rushed south…

“Right!  Lemme just…ok, haha, look at that!  We can rent it,” Cora-san stated, then hit the download button before Law could even offer to cover the cost.  Ehh, it was just a single movie rental.  Nothing to stress over.

-n-

“RAAAAAAAAWR!”

“EEK!”

Corazon nearly propelled himself off the couch and into the ceiling through sheer fear.  His heart was pounding so hard that he felt it in his teeth, and he clutched a pillow to his chest in the vain hope of keeping it from bursting out of his rib cage.  A massive heart attack would probably end any future chances of sleepovers with Law, he reminded himself. 

“This is just the production logo, we’re not even into the movie yet,” Law commented, watching Corazon from the corner of one eye.  He’d scooted all the way to the other side of the couch, legs curled up to his chest and arms protectively guarding his pizza.  Like he was avoiding Corazon and the destruction his large limbs could cause. 

God, could Corazon be any more of a failure?  Scary movie dates were a thing that people did.  A date night thing they did, for that matter. Scary movie moments were the perfect opportunity for getting closer to someone, after all!  A hand on the thigh.  An arm around the shoulders.  A whispered assurance that things would be okay.  This was the perfect chance for Corazon to show Law that he’d be a good boyfriend and protect him from all kinds of scary things!  Or maybe…maybe Law picked this movie to prove he could do that for Corazon?

Well, it didn’t matter because Corazon couldn’t even be halfway normal about a horror flick.   Instead, they hadn’t even gotten to the movie proper and he was already terrified. “It just…uh…startled me. I wasn’t expecting it,” Corazon explained and let out a wheezing sound that was as close to a laugh as he could manage.  He dug his nails hard into the pillow, hard enough that it hurt, and attempted to remember that calm breathing exercise for anxiety that his mother had taught him as part of her meditation phase.  He didn’t want to look directly at the screen, so instead he watched Law from the corner of his eyes. “So you like horror movies?” 

Idiot!  Stupid Corazon!  Stupid.  Law was the one who picked out the movie, obviously he liked them.  What a poor attempt at small talk.  Too bad he couldn’t find a tutor to fix that; after the third etiquette teacher tried and gave up, the family had stopped looking.  Doflamingo, apparently, could handle enough talking at charity events for the both of them.

“Hm, yeah.  I guess so.  This one is pretty good,” Law answered with near-casual indifference.  He tilted his head back against the couch, flicking his eyes towards Corazon again.  “Do you…like horror movies?” 

“Oh yeah!  I love them!”  The lie spilled from Corazon before he could stop it, and once it was out there, he felt the need to keep going with it.  Law was so cool.  Corazon wanted him to think he was cool too. “The scarier the better, ha.  Love that…adrenaline rush?”

“Uh-huh,” Law replied, sounding wholly unconvinced. 

“But I haven’t seen this one!  It’ll be cool, watching something that a lot of other horror movies were based on,” Corazon fibbed.  He forced himself to take a deep, cleansing breath.  Horror movies were perfect for date night, he reminded himself.  How many times had he walked in on Doflamingo and a date snuggled up on the couch, the date clinging to Doflamingo’s arm during the scariest parts of the film?  Corazon could be that solid presence for Law.  He just had to stop screaming.

Easier said than done.

Corazon yelped when the teenagers jump-scared one another.  He squeaked when the first zombie climbed off Dr. Hogback’s table and started on its killer march to find fresh blood.  The less said about his reaction to the dead climbing out of their graves in the graveyard, the better.  Forget snuggling up together, about halfway through the film Law slipped off the couch and moved to the adjacent loveseat in a clear act of self-defense against Corazon’s flailing limbs.  Corazon’s only saving grace was that he didn’t spill any food or soda during the movie.

By the end of Thriller Bark, Corazon was drenched in sweat and felt like he’d run five miles. “So.  That was…fun,” he tried to lie, even though he was fairly certain Law could see straight through him.

“We could’ve shut it off at any point,” Law scolded. “You didn’t have to force it.”

“I-!” Corazon bit back an angry remark about he’d just been trying to make Law happy.  That wouldn’t make his crush like him any more; although given what Law had seen tonight, it would probably take a lot to make him like Corazon even less.  He only had one tactic left in his arsenal to turn things around now. “How about playing a game instead?  Nothing horror-based though.”

Law shrugged, like it made absolutely no difference to him how they spent the next couple hours. “What game?”

“You can pick.”

“I picked the movie.  Your turn.”

That was about as much enthusiasm as Law worked up for the next little while.  They tried out a fighting game that neither of them were able to get particularly invested in.  A co-op puzzle game was next on the chopping block; Law could figure out the mechanics of the puzzles much faster than Corazon, and was clearly frustrated with his slower processing but tried not to show it.  The final nail in the coffin was an action-adventure title from the “Fairy Vearth Ultimatia” series that just resulted in the pair of them saying, “You want to play for a while?” and passing the controller back and forth as they tried to collect resources and craft through the tutorial levels.  

Corazon wasn’t the least bit surprised when Law said, “It’s getting late.  We should head to bed,” and the clock on the wall showed it was barely even 10 p.m.  But what argument could he make?  None of the games he’d picked out were holding their attention.  They’d stuffed themselves and still had enough leftovers on hand for at least another three days.  And starting a movie this late would probably end with them tapping out before it got to the halfway point.

“Ok.” He shut off the game system and started boxing up the food. “I’ve got this, don’t worry,” he promised Law, blinking his eyes rapidly before he could do something stupid like start bawling in front of his crush.  How was it possible to be this bad at dating?!  Doflamingo never had these issues.  No one else at Silvers did either, based on the conversations Corazon was all but forced to listen to in homeroom and between classes every day.  Was it him?  Was there something specifically wrong with him?

-n-

Law had to congratulate himself as he finally sorted out the ridiculously over-the-top rich people bullshit showerheads, giving the inground bathtub a wide berth.  Not only had he made it through the socializing aspect of the sleepover, but he hadn’t been kicked out for staring at Cora-san’s dick like a total creep.  Sure, there had been a couple hiccups (Law made a personal note to never, ever suggest a horror title for book club), but they’d done all the things you were supposed to do for a sleepover.  They’d had dinner, they’d watched a movie, and they’d even played a few middle-of-the-road video games.  That should count as a success, he felt.  Yeah, it hadn’t been the best time of his life, but he hadn’t fucked up like at the party and ruined anyone else’s evening.  Things could go back to normal between him and Cora-san after this; provided that Law mentally applied censor bars to Cora-san’s junk for the rest of eternity.

The high of a successful evening started to fade, though, when Law, freshly showered and cozy in his pajamas, slipped out of the bedroom with the intention of getting a quick drink before settling in for the night. Years of foster homes with creaking floors had taught him how to walk lightly and silently through darkened hallways so that he didn’t get in trouble; a skill that he put to use with the intent of slipping past Cora-san’s room without alerting him.  He was worried about seeing Cora-san again, in his casual clothes that left so little to the imagination, especially right before he went to bed. The last thing he wanted to do was dream about that monster Cora-san was packing in his trousers. 

He tiptoed down the stairs, slinking down the halls as he tried to find his way to the kitchen, oh dear god who needed this much house?!  Eventually he found his way to a probable kitchen, but his heart sank when he noticed there were lights spilling out through the doorway.  Fuck, he thought Cora-san was already asleep, the lights were off in his room and everything!

Maybe Law would get lucky, though.  Maybe Cora-san had simply forgotten to turn off the kitchen light, and he’d walk into an empty room.  No such luck.  Law barely needed to round the corner before he noticed Cora-san at the fridge; something which naturally made him duck back around the corner, which was stupid because what kind of idiot hid from their host at a sleepover?!  The horny perverted kind, he decided; someone who was incapable of keeping their eyes off their only friend’s dick.  And Cora-san didn’t deserve that, even if this was all clearly his fault for not wearing underwear.

Well, since Law hadn’t been seen or heard, it would be easy enough for him to turn right around and head back upstairs. It wasn’t like he really needed that drink, and there was a tap in the bathroom that he could get a sip of water from if he really needed it. That was the safest option when it came down to it; for his own sanity, and the sake of whatever this not-quite friendship between them was.

Backing away, Law kept his eyes fixed on the doorway as he inched down the hallway. He just made it far enough to where he felt comfortable turning around and booking it up the stairs, when he heard a sound that made him stop in his tracks.  A soft sniffle drifted out from the kitchen.  Followed by another one, and another.  Now, it was none of Law’s business if Cora-san wanted to have a cry in the kitchen.  It was his home, as ridiculously posh and ostentatious as the building was, and he could cry in whichever room he wanted.  But…Law knew Cora-san well enough at this point to be worried that the giant oaf had somehow managed to hurt himself, and the tears were the result of physical pain.  And since there was no one else in the house, that meant it was Law’s responsibility to peek back into the kitchen and make sure Cora-san wasn’t in the active process of bleeding out.

Damn it!  Why did everything with Cora-san have to be so complicated?  Things were so much simpler when all Law had to do was scold him about his notes and make sure he didn’t trip over a plant and die.  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, making his way back towards the kitchen.  Pressing close to the wall, he peeked back in.

Cora-san was standing in front of the open fridge, shuffling boxes of pizza and chicken wings on top of each other with little success.  Cora-san’s hands were shaking, and when he lifted his head enough for Law to see his face, his eyes were rimmed with red and his cheeks were wet . He sniffled again, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes and, in the process, jostling the stack of food containers hard enough to knock a box of hot wings onto the floor, where it burst open and scattered little pieces of fried food all over the kitchen in the soft light emanating from the fridge. 

“Stupid!”

Law paused with his foot halfway into the kitchen and shrunk back.  At first he thought Cora-san had spotted him and the outburst was directed at him.  He was ready to run back upstairs and lock himself in the bedroom until he could leave in the morning, but it quickly became clear that Cora-san was talking to himself. 

“Idiot,” Cora-san grumbled as he kneeled down and started picking up the scattered food. “It’s not that hard, why can’t you do it right?!”  Eventually he scooped up all the dirty food and tossed it into a trash can with the most rage and frustration Law had ever seen from him.  And then suddenly the anger slipped out of Cora-san’s body, and he wrapped his arms around himself and took a deep, deep breath. “Calm down.  You’re ok.  Calm down, you’re ok…”  Cora-san kept repeating this mantra, over and over, growing increasingly quiet, until Law finally decided to step back and return upstairs, if he really wanted a drink he’d get it from the bathroom sink.

What had gotten Cora-san so worked up?  Everything had seemed fine when Law went upstairs to take a shower.  After all, they’d had dinner (way too much dinner, truly) and watched a movie…ok, so Cora-san hadn’t really liked the movie, but they played games together afterwards!  Or they tried.  But the games weren’t exactly engaging…

And then Law started to see the afternoon from a different point of view.  That Cora-san had been embarrassed about the bus route and the food situation, so of course he hadn’t wanted to admit that he didn’t want to watch Law’s movie pick.  And by the time they started playing games, he’d probably just wanted to play something that he thought Law would be interested in, regardless of his own desires.  And when Law hadn’t liked any of their picks, and tried to excuse himself to go to sleep at his regular bedtime…

Fuck.  Maybe things hadn’t gone that well after all.  But what was Law supposed to do about it now?!  Turn around and go back downstairs and say, “Hey Cora-san, I saw you crying in the kitchen, wanna talk about it and also put on some underwear?” That was a terrible idea!  He’d get kicked out or put on a list or something!

God.  Maybe Cora-san was just having an emotional overreaction.  Law would go to bed, and tomorrow they’d get up and have breakfast and everything would be just fine by the time he got on the bus to head back home.  Don’t make a big deal out of things, it would only cause more problems later on.  Let Cora-san have his moment and pull it together; people always got weird when you drew attention to their crying, Law could speak from personal experience there.  Leave it alone.  Tomorrow morning, it would all be better, he told himself as he crept back upstairs.

But the next day, things were not any better.  Breakfast was quiet and tense, and Cora-san was clearly forcing himself to smile and talk to Law about his plans for the rest of the weekend. It was painful to watch. He was trying so hard, but Law had spent enough time around Cora-san at this point to know when his smile was genuine or not. If he didn’t get those little crinkles at the corners of his eyes from how hard he was smiling, it was fraud. 

Ugh. Law really didn’t want to have to deal with this. He was tired. Rich people beds were weirdly plush and far too big for one person and he’d spent half of the night tossing and turning and getting tangled in the stupid, too fluffy duvet. Just get through breakfast, he told himself.  Just get to the door, and say he had a nice time, and let this whole awkward event die already.

That would be the smart thing to do, for sure.  But Law felt his feet dragging as he shuffled towards the door with his bags in tow; and he found himself stopping just shy of actually leaving, instead turning back to Cora-san. “Thanks for having me,” he awkwardly offered, because it seemed like the kind of thing he should say.

“Yeah.  Sorry it was a bit…you know,” Cora-san answered with a shrug. “I’ll see you at school Monday?”

Just say yes, Law told himself.  Just say yes, and goodbye, and walk out and go home and tell Dadan it was ok but nothing special and then he wouldn’t have to do this again and Dadan wouldn’t pester him to socialize and Cora-san wouldn’t end up crying in the kitchen in the dead of night.  Say it.  SAY IT.

“I had fun,” Law blurted out.  His fingers were clenched around the strap of his duffle bag and his feet were glued to the horrendous bunny slippers on Cora-san’s feet as he spoke, because he didn’t know what would happen if he looked into Cora-san’s eyes right now. “I…if you wanted…could we do it again?”

“...y…y-yes!”

Cora-san sounded so shocked, and yet so hopeful, that Law couldn’t help but look up; and that was a mistake because Cora-san had a real smile on his face, so bright and cheerful and stupid it made Law want to do something unhinged like bite him (what the absolute hell, had the panic over Cora-san’s massive dick absolutely fried the last functional brain cell left in him?!) but it was real. “Yeah, absolutely!” Cora-san emphasized. “But…next time, it’ll be better!  No getting lost on the bus, and we’ll order food together, and, and-!”

“Ok.  I get it,” Law grumbled.  Idiot.  Now he had to go through another night of awkwardly hanging out with his supposed friend instead of doing something productive like studying!  Speaking of… “But it’ll have to wait until after midterms.”

“Sure thing!  We can make it a celebration then!” Cora-san suggested.

Urgh.  Celebrating?  Why?  Law was beginning to regret digging this hole for himself; but at least Cora-san wasn’t moping anymore.  He needed to get out of here before he said anything else stupid; clearly his higher reasoning was malfunctioning today. “I need to head out.  But I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, that’s-oh wait, wait wait wait!”

Law stared as Cora-san whipped out his phone so hard it went briefly airborne, and only quick reflexes on Law’s part kept it from hitting the ground. “Thanks,” Cora-san sheepishly muttered as Law passed the phone back to him. “Before you go, can I get your phone number?”

“Why?”

“...so we can text?  Or, you know…”

Fuck.  Of course this was going to come up eventually.  How was Law supposed to explain to Cora-san that he didn’t have a phone, because he was a foster kid and was trying not to cost Dadan any extra money and opening a whole phone line just for him was time and money and a big hassle that might get him shipped off somewhere across the globe?  “I don’t have a cell phone,” Law bluntly stated. “It’s a distraction from school.”

“...Oh.  Ok.”

Damn it all, why did Cora-san have to keep making that stupid kicked puppy face every time he was even slightly sad, had no one taught him how to properly mask his emotions in public?!  Law needed to do something; he’d worked so hard to get Cora-san out of his mopey rut, like hell he was going to end things on a downer note. “But there’s a house phone number you can call,” he offered. “Just not too late, and we can’t tie it up forever.” That should be enough to put off the text-happy dweeb.

Unfortunately for Law’s future study time, no it was not. “What is it??” Cora-san eagerly asked, fingers already flying in preparation to add Law’s contact information.

“...”

Law gave the phone number, excused himself again, and then walked as quickly down the obscenely long driveway as he could without raising suspicions that he was fleeing from someone.  Damn it, what was he supposed to do if Cora-san called the house in the middle of the night?!  And if Dadan caught him talking on the phone with someone for ages, she’d have questions that Law really didn’t want to answer.  He should have just left things alone.  He shouldn’t have given out his number without making a very strict and narrow window for Cora-san to call in.  But…

But in spite of it all, whenever he thought of the little smile on Cora-san’s face as he added the number to his phone and read it back to Law, he couldn’t completely regret the choice.  It was dangerous to read so much into the actions of one stupid straight boy.  Really, really dangerous.  But as long as Cora-san was going to insist that he and Law were friends, Law supposed he might as well try to act a little bit like one.

Chapter Text

Return to Whitegrove Estate Finally Receives a Premiere Date

There’s finally an end in sight for the scores of fans who have been loyally waiting for news on the upcoming animated adaptation of the popular romance series. Ever since the launch of a comic for Return to Whitegrove Estate , fans have been clamoring for an animated adaptation as well.  That wish seemed to come true nearly two years ago, with an announcement that a 12-episode series had been greenlit.  But beyond a few teaser images released at last year’s Water Seven ComicCon, the project team has been remarkably tight-lipped.  That all changed early this morning, when Studio 7Kids released the first trailer of the upcoming series, alongside a premiere date for the first double-length episode.

Fans can look forward to experiencing a whimsical journey on–

“Holy sh—ow!” 

With a meaty thunk, Corazon’s phone landed directly on his face and he flailed in surprise.  Never mind the stars dancing before his eyes or the warm wetness on his face that indicated another nosebleed, no physical pain could touch him because it was here!  It was finally here!  Concrete, undeniable proof that the Return to Whitegrove Estate series was no longer languishing in animation hell, but rather was going to be released to the public in short order!  There had been rumors that it was canceled or on hiatus, both of which had broken Corazon’s heart.  The novels were great, of course, and the comics were well-drawn and adorable (albeit a bit too condensed for his liking), but what was missing was a chance to see Rosemary and Alfred animated in glorious 2D color, with music and lighting effects and rotoscope dancing!

This was possibly the best day of his li– uuuuuugh . The blood from his nose crept its way down his throat, gloopy and metallic, and he heaved and coughed from his unintentional bloodboarding.  Right.  Celebrations would have to wait until he took care of this little mess.  He clamped his hand over his nose and scrambled from the bed, tripping over his own large feet and leaving a smear of bloody fingerprints behind on the wall as he stumbled and caught himself.  He finally made it to the bathroom where he washed himself clean, and then sheepishly returned to scrub the wall, before settling back on his bed with wads of tissue stuffed up his nostrils.  All things considered, not quite a disaster.  At least this time all he needed to do was a little scrubbing, instead of getting an entirely new bedding set.  And there was even a nice treat for him on his phone when he finished!

Now that he was sitting up and no longer choking on his own blood, Corazon was able to fully read the article without further injuring himself.  There was a brief (and not entirely lore-accurate) description of Return to Whitegrove Estate, suggesting that the series was only going to try adapting the first two volumes, potentially with some cuts to fit the runtime. Still, it was enough to excite Corazon.  He was sure that the forums were in a tizzy.  A quick glance at his top five favorite accounts confirmed this suspicion.  People were talking about doing online book discussions and comic re-reads in the (surprisingly short) window to the release.  Screenshots were taken of people showing that the announcement had led to most online stores quickly selling out of their remaining volume 1 stock.  And some of the more adventurous users were even talking about doing in-person watch parties or a cupsleeve event-

Corazon felt his heart slip a beat at that.  Dressrosa wasn't the biggest city, but if this was a trend…he practically squealed when he saw that one of his local forums had announced their intentions to hop on the trend.  Corazon recognized a few names from doing previous watch parties and release events, hosted at a hole in the wall boba shop.  At this point the soon-to-be organizers didn't have anything concrete (just a couple posts expressing a desire to do this event and assessing the community's interest), but the fact that they were talking about it at all was a huge deal!  Cupsleeves were obviously normally reserved for music groups with incredibly popular members; but if ever there was a time to host an animated series watch party while drinking boba tea, he supposed it would be tied to the premiere of a series where a surprisingly large amount of exposition was delivered during picturesque tea parties.

“Oh my god!” Corazon was in the middle of a carefully worded post expressing his excitement for the premiere and interest in having a fan event in Dressrosa, when the actual date finally clicked into place and his phone went flying from his hand.

The Return to Whitegrove Estate premiere lined up perfectly with the end of midterms!  Corazon had already been planning to ask Law to come to another sleepover soon, given that Law had all but granted explicit permission for some kind of celebration following the end of testing.  That all-too-small window between when midterms had concluded and when the pair of them had to start thinking about finals…that was when Law was at least partially relaxed.  Corazon had to bait Law into another sleepover in that timeframe.  Having a shared IP airing a special episode the Friday after testing finished was the perfect excuse!  Corazon wouldn’t have to come up with an activity to do, because 7Kids would handle that for him!  And if the cupsleeve event preceded that…well, there was no way in hell he could get Law to stay at the event long enough for the planned viewing party.  But popping in for a bit?  Getting a treat and some souvenirs and such?  Oh, it was definitely even more of a not-date than the diner evening they’d shared!

Corazon immediately made a point of following Rumble Boba on every app they used.  The exact minute he had a definitive time for that cupsleeve?  He’d RSVP for two.  Now onto more pressing matters: how to convince Law to come to something where he’d actually have a good time?

-n-

Corazon spent the better part of the next week sweating bullets in their study sessions, certain that Law could sense that his mind was putting the bulk of its processing power towards something other than academics, which was obviously a high crime in Law’s world.  Corazon’s punctuation was abysmal.  His thesis statements failed to be properly flushed out in the arguments his papers tried to make.  He did math without showing his work.

“Seriously?!  Are you trying to fail?” Law had demanded one afternoon.

“No!” Corazon had woefully promised, even as yet another essay of his was torn to shreds.  It wasn’t his fault that he had priorities far greater than what Silvers expected him to focus on!  There was more to life than papers on literary themes or solving algebraic formulas!  And years from now, when they were off on their honeymoon together, surely Law would find it endearing that Corazon cared far more about his future husband’s happiness than some forgettable school paper?

“Were you having a stroke when you wrote this?!”

Corazon had to hope.

Days passed, and more and more people began expressing interest in a meet-up for Return to Whitegrove Estate on Rumble Boba’s DenDenU page; until one night, after Corazon got out of the shower, he checked his phone and discovered that an event had officially been announced!  The hosts would provide a limited number of cupsleeves for the first hundred guests who bought a drink (designed by a local artist, please consider making a donation), and a few small vendors would have tables set up outside the store with limited merch.  Visitors were encouraged to bring their favorite Return to Whitegrove Estate figures, plushies, or even dress in costume to stay on theme. That last part of the notice sent Corazon spiraling for a while as memories of his maid!Law fantasy rushed back at him.  Corazon knew he was going to be hard pressed to get Law to even agree to go with him to the cupsleeve for a short time, there was definitely no way that Law would dress up.  But what if he did?! 

Corazon had to lay facedown on his bed for half an hour just to calm down enough to get dressed and call Law.  There’d be time to fantasize about Law after the invitation was sent.  Tonight he’d work out a little of his tension, so to speak; and then he’d lock in and prioritize extending the invitation to Law to come out to Rumble Boba, period.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Corazon pulled up Law’s contact info and made the call, twisting the duvet beneath him as he listened to the phone ring.  Finally, someone answered. “Hello?”

It was a gruff voice; female, far older than Law, and not quite as deep.  Corazon nearly choked on his own spit; he’d spent so much time preparing his invitation for Law that he hadn’t even considered the implications of someone other than Law answering!  Could this be one of his mysterious family members?  The cruel devils who refused to let Law have social media accounts and made him slave over a thick textbook all day?  People who Corazon was expected to impress on command?!

“Hello?  Can you hear me?” the voice repeated.

Dang it, pull it together Corazon, if he didn’t speak up this person was going to hang up on him! “Urgh, uh, is Law home?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I…err, tell him it’s Cora-san?”

“Oi, Law!” The person on the other end of the line shouted so loudly that Corazon jumped and nearly dropped his phone. “There’s some dweeb on the phone who says his name is Cor-something!  Want me to hang up?”

“What?!” Now that voice that Corazon would recognize anywhere. That was Law. “No!”

There was a bit of muffled conversation, and then Corazon heard Law very clearly say into the phone, “Law speaking.”

“Hey Law, it’s Cora-san.” Corazon could have smacked himself in the face.  He really wished that Law would be allowed a cellphone.  It was so much easier to communicate through text.  Phone calls were the worst.

Judging from the sigh Law exhaled, he also felt the need to punish Corazon’s cringe behavior. “Yeah, I got that.  What’s wrong?  Is there an assignment you forgot about?  A problem you’re stuck on?”

Corazon thought he heard someone say, “Nerd,” in the background, but chose to ignore it and press on. “No, I got everything done today, just like I told you!  It’s…just…well…umh…”

“...” If Corazon closed his eyes, he would be able to picture the face Law was making right now.  That irritated little furrow of his brow.

“I…I don’t know if you heard, but Return to Whitegrove Estate is getting an anime!  I know you haven’t read the comics yet, but you don’t really need to.  And, best of all,  it’s going to premiere the weekend after midterms!”

“...ok?” 

Law didn’t sound repulsed, merely confused, and Corazon was going to take that as a win. “Yeah!  And there are a couple local groups…see, sometimes when there’s a big premiere like this for a light novel series, they do like, a modified cupsleeve event.”

“A what?” Of course Law was too cool to know about stuff like cupsleeves.  That was for…dweebs like Corazon who read way too many webnovels and listened to music from overseas and watched way too much anime.

“It’s, err, you go buy boba tea-or, you don’t really have to buy anything, but if you go it’s kinda rude not too since it’s kind of the point for the business agreeing to host it, and you’ll get prizes sometimes and people talk about what they like-”

“Is that your friend on the phone?” The same gruff voice interrupted Corazon’s rambling, softer than before but the person was still clearly standing near Law and the phone. “Do they wanna come over?  Should we invite them over?”

Corazon nearly choked on his own tongue; meeting the parents already?!

Muffled conversation broke out on the other end of the line as Corazon’s brain tried to reboot, though all Corazon could make out was Law saying, “It’s fine,” and “school stuff,” like he’d covered the mouthpiece on the other end of the phone.  When he finally got back on the line proper, it was to say, “Fine, let’s cupsleeve,” in a rushed, slightly breathless tone.

“Really?!”  

“Yeah, sure.  That’s fine.” It wasn’t the most enthusiastic agreement, but Corazon was quickly learning that Law agreeing to anything was a sign of victory.

“Maybe, if you want, like after the cupsleeve, since it’s…you know, a weekend, you can come over and spend the night again.” Corzon’s tongue struggled over the words, but he managed to get them out and once that dam broke it was easier. “I promise I won’t order that much food again and I won’t get lost on the bus and we can watch the premiere together, no crowds, just us.  It’s always a lot more fun when you watch a new show together with a friend.” 

“Uh-huh.  Sure, but I’ve gotta go, it’s almost time for bed.  I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?” Law was clearly hurrying him off the phone, but that didn’t matter because he’d agreed and Corazon was practically floating off of his bed. 

“Okay. Bye, Law.” Corazon managed to squeak out. 

“Bye.” Cuh-lick.  

Corazon sat for a full minute with the silent phone still held against his ears, before he threw his arms up (his phone ending up somewhere behind the bed) and squealed.

Law agreed to spend more time with him!  He agreed to go out to the cupsleeve and he agreed to sleepover again!  A part of Corazon had been terrified that Law was just paying him lip service when he said they’d have to try another sleepover, but he hadn’t.  He’d meant it. They were going to spend time together and now Corazon knew what not to do so it was going to be a lot better on this run for sure.  Better treats, and playing, and Law in pajamas- 

And at that, Corazon gave up on getting anything else done that night except lying back and fantasizing about what kind of fun they could get up to this time around. 

-n-

Corazon was incredibly happy that he’d talked Law into heading to Rumble Boba as soon as school let out; even using the Donquixote family driver and car to get there, instead of the bus system that Law tried to argue for.  Yeah, with Law at the helm taking the bus should work this time, but Rumble only had a few indoor tables available for seating.  If they were late to the event, then they’d end up huddled around one of the outdoor heaters at a picnic table the store shared with a nearby restaurant, instead of being inside where all the good stuff was sure to happen!  Plus, taking the car meant they could both leave their bags inside the vehicle to be dropped off at the house; something that Law reluctantly agreed to for his duffle bag, although he kept a death grip on his messenger bag.  He must be really serious about not wanting to misplace his notes for school, Corazon decided.  And then they were at the front door to the store and Corazon quite forgot to care about anything other than getting immersed in the event.

The interior of Rumble Boba was meant to be welcoming, with most accents and decorations using soft pinks and blues that nicely contrasted against the dark floor.  The biggest feature was a huge sakura tree painted on the back wall; but rather than traditional cherry blossom petals on the bows, patrons could pay-it-forward to buy a cartoonishly oversized petal, write on it, and pin it to the tree for someone to take down and use towards a free drink.  These ranged from hastily scribbled, “to any doctor working night shift this week” to artful cursive with a pointed message of, “For Kimmi during finals; you’ve got this!”  Corazon saw one or two of these in the hands of patrons in line for a drink already; maybe someone had purchased a few ahead of time for the cupsleeve?

“So, what exactly do we do here?”

Law was looking around Rumble like it was an obstacle course to be navigated.  Poor guy, he was probably still coming down from the adrenaline rush of their midterms! “First things first; we get a drink,” Corazon announced, trying not to clap his hands in excitement when he walked towards the end of the line and Law immediately followed him like he couldn’t bear to leave Corazon’s side for even a minute.  So cute!

Looking around the shop, Corazon saw that the people who’d arrived so far hadn’t opted for full costumes; mostly it was either shirts with some comic panel artwork, or a couple keychains or plushies attached to their bags.  Well, that was fair; usually around Dressrosa, you didn’t get diehard cosplayers jumping on character outfits until you had a live action or animated series to base the look off of.  In a way, that was a good thing for Corazon’s purposes.  If there were a bunch of people in costumes, he and Law would have stood out in the crowd as the weird ones.  And that might have been enough to make Law flee for his life from the shop.

The line moved forward and Law shuffled to keep up with Corazon, not letting him get out of arm’s reach.  It was a horrible boost to Corazon’s ego.  At that moment, Corazon decided that this would be his do-over for the horror movie disaster.  He wanted to prove to Law that despite everything Law might have seen previously to the contrary, Corazon was capable of being a strong and steady person for him to lean on. A future boyfriend that was more than willing to protect him.  Even if the villain was a simple social interaction. 

“Have you decided what you want?” Corazon asked, standing up straighter and puffing his chest out.  This was his time to shine. 

“Uh-huh,” Law mumbled and if Corazon wasn’t mistaken, he scooted even closer. “I think I’ll get the Black Widow Boba…” 

Corazon squinted at the menu. “A watermelon pomegranate juice with black cherry boba balls. A sweet and tart refreshing treat to comfort yourself after yet another husband has passed on under tragic circumstances,” he read out loud.  He frowned. “She’s not a black widow!” 

“How many dead husbands does she have?” Law asked dryly, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips. “And what does it say about the textual evidence that you knew exactly which character that drink was inspired by, huh?”

Damn it! It should be a crime to look that hot while arguing. How was Corazon supposed to formulate a counter-argument when all he wanted to do was kiss the daylights out of Law?!

“It’s a period piece.  It’s set in the past.  Life expectancy was shorter,” Corazon pouted. 

“Especially if your wife is slipping something extra into your tea,” Law commented, lifting his brow at Corazon. At this point, Corazon didn’t know if Law actually bought into the black widow fan theory for Gisele, or if he kept bringing it up just to get a rise out of Corazon.  Truthfully, Corazon kind of hoped it was the latter.  Playful teasing was basically a form of indirect flirting! 

“Rude, just rude,” Corazon sulked aloud though, shaking his head as the line moved forward again. 

“Rude doesn’t mean wrong,” Law pointed out.

They finally reached the counter and Corazon nobly stayed in the front and placed an order for Law’s misnamed drink and his own Rosemary inspired one (lemon rosemary juice with grapefruit boba balls). Once Law had a drink in his hand, he seemed to relax slightly; maybe the nerves were actually a manifestation of caffeine withdrawal?  He’d been mainlining coffee all week for finals.  Still, even with a drink in hand he didn’t stray far from Corazon, fixing his gaze expectantly on him. 

Step one of cupsleeve = complete. 

“Ok, now let’s find somewhere to sit,” Corazon directed.  The pair of them grabbed a table at the far end of the shop and set about drinking their beverages, looking over the detail work on each of their cupsleeves.  The designs were cute, in that budding artist kind of way, and the creator was allegedly one of the vendors who’d set up a small booth outside, beneath the overhang of the strip mall’s walkway.  Most of the vendors here were probably gearing up for con season later in the summer; whatever Return to Whitegrove Estate merch they’d manage to scrounge up in time for this event was probably either leftovers from touring last year (with everything based on the comic appearances) or small batches of newer merch they’d whipped up to test and see how well they’d sell.  Corazon and Law would have to take a look soon, if they had any hopes of perusing the merchandise before it got picked over.

“Do you do this a lot?”

Corazon could hardly believe what he was hearing.  Law was initiating conversation?!  That never happened!  Never! “Only sometimes,” he admitted, trying to play it cool and casual and absolutely refusing to choke to death on a boba ball. “Not every series premiere gets an event like this, and I’m not always a fan of whatever they’re doing the event for.  This is…maybe my third or fourth time?  Since middle school.”

“Ok.”  Law took another sip of his tea, seemingly pleased with his choice. “We got our drinks.  What next?”

Play it cool.  Don’t try to force Law into an option that they’d both hate.  “Well, we could just sit here and finish our drinks.  But if you want to look around, there’s a couple tables outside we could look at.”  Corazon glanced across the room, pleased to see that a few people appeared to be pulling up a show on a TV that typically displayed store advertisements and their menu.  He vaguely recalled someone on the main organizer team saying they’d play the most recent show that the Return to Whitegrove Estate director had worked on, so everyone would get an idea of the caliber of pacing and storytelling they were in for this time. “We could move over to the TV and watch something, or talk with some people about the series.  It looks like there’s already a group going,” Corazon suggested, pointing to another table where several people had gathered with books in their laps or chapters pulled up on tablets.

“Ok…”

“Or if you’re done, we could head out…” Corazon paused for dramatic effect, taking a long sip of his drink. Perhaps too hard of a sip because a boba ball launched itself directly into his airway, and he barely avoided perishing.  Drat!

Once he’d gotten the choking under control, Law pointedly took Corazon’s mostly empty drink, picked up his own empty cup, and walked towards the trashcans. “Let’s see what’s outside,” he suggested, dropping them inside as Corazon grabbed their cupsleeves off the table.

Just as Corazon had anticipated, the sellers had clearly put together something very last minute, and their offerings were understandably sparse.  Still, one of them had managed to crotchet a handful of Winnies about the size of a large orange and just as round, and Corazon couldn’t help but purchase one.  Law found a small keychain that had Alfred’s family crest on it and quickly attached it to his messenger bag upon purchase.  All told, it took maybe fifteen minutes to look at everything on offer and make their purchases; and then it was back inside.

The discussion group had gotten a bit crowded and lively, so they drifted towards the smattering of empty chairs near the TV.  Rumble Boba was likely to only get more crowded from this point onwards, so Corazon wouldn’t be surprised in the least if Law suggested getting one last round of treats and taking them to go.  That was, until…

“Dude, Gisele would never harm her husbands!”

“Uh-huh, suuuuuure.”

The argument that had broken out a few seats down from them was between a blond guy in a t-shirt that showed Gisele, accompanied by bold print “BEST GIRL” beneath it.  He was presumably the person trying to defend her honor against a brunette woman, kicked back in her seat and looking wholly unconvinced by his argument.  She had thick, curly hair and wore a yellow striped beanie atop her head, and seemed quite content to nest in her sweater dress with boba tea clutched in hand.

“Seriously, what evidence do you have?!” the man demanded.

“Literally any scene she’s in,” came the reply from the woman. “Or haven’t you noticed that half her dialog is jokes or wordplay about killing and disappearing men?”

“She’s right,” Law chimed in, surprising both the man and the woman; and Corazon as well.  Law hardly batted an eye, however, as he took a seat close to the woman. “Gisele has definitely earned her vicious reputation in the series; and if you actually thought she was ‘best girl’ or whatever, you’d support her quest for happiness instead of pretending she’s someone else.”

“...whatever, dude.  It’s just a book,” the guy grumbled, before getting up and walking off.

“You’re the one throwing a temper tantrum,” Law muttered after him.

“Seriously,” the girl agreed. “It’s not even that wild a fan theory, pretty much everyone agrees.”

“Right?!” Law suddenly chimed in. “Like, her second or third scene had that moment in the garden-”

“-where they’re talking about selling the estate!” the woman immediately chimed in.

“Right, and she says she can’t imagine leaving her garden because who would ‘make sure the plants are properly fed’ after she’s gone?  C’mon, there are clearly bodies under those begonias!”

“...I’m gonna get us some drinks,” Corazon quietly said, waited for Law to nod, and then scuttled off towards the counter.  It was good that Law was socializing, he told himself.  It meant that this cupsleeve idea was a success so far, and that Law was going to be in a great mood when they left to go home.  But if the conversation was about a point in the narrative theory-crafting that Corazon didn’t strictly agree with…and Law found someone who did…maybe Corazon just needed to hide from the conversation for a little while.

He made it through the gambit of an ever-growing line and returned to the table with the other two special occasion drinks on offer: a peanut butter variation (Winnie’s favorite treat) and a rose tea special that had boba jellies shaped like flowers.  He came back to Law and the woman, nervous that he’d be pushed out of the conversation; but then Law looked up and said, “There you are,” and pushed an empty chair towards Corazon. “C’mon, I was telling Ikkaku you were the one who got me into the books.”

“So you’re…Corazon, right?” Ikkaku said, clearly hoping she’d remembered correctly.

Corazon’s heart leapt; Law had given her Corazon’s normal nickname, not the one he saved especially for Corazon himself.  “Yup, that’s me,” Corazon agreed.  He took a deep breath, reminding himself that everyone here was a fan of the books.  He didn’t need to be nervous.  He didn’t need to write things out on his phone, he could speak out loud, words would be ok for a little while, at least. “I’ve been following since Whitegrove was just a web novel,” he quietly stated, hoping not to sound too pretentious.  He was just a big fan, really!  That didn’t make him better than anyone else, and he didn’t think he was, honestly!

“Same!” Ikkaku chirped immediately. “Do you remember back when the author tried to do everything in blog format, because they weren’t sure they’d make enough to justify paying for an OharArchive author account?!”

“Oh my god that was awful,” Corazon groaned. “You literally had to hunt down the chapters one by one, and the stupid blog site kept recommending them to you out of order!”

“Oh god that’s right, it did do that!”

And so it went.  Law and Ikkaku did most of the talking, but Corazon was willing to occasionally jump in with a recollection or opinion of his own.  But the store kept getting more and more crowded, and the noise was starting to get to both Corazon and Law.  Finally, it was Law who stood up and said, “We’ve gotta go.”

“Oh!  Gotcha.  Well it was nice meeting you both,” Ikkaku said. “I’m friends with the organizers, so I’m here for their cupsleeves more often than not; maybe I’ll see you around next time?”

“...sure.”  Souvenirs in hand and stomachs full of boba, Law and Corazon stepped outside the shop, both simultaneously hissing at the rush of cold air after being stuffed into the toasty and crowded little shop.

“Did you have fun?” Corazon asked while texting his driver that they were ready for pickup.

“Yeah.  It was…I liked it.” Law played with the keychain on the end of his bag, before adding, “I don’t think I would have gone to this alone.  This seems like the kind of thing that’s only fun if you know someone or have an excuse to talk to new people.”

“Yeah,” Corazon agreed.  Most of the time he didn’t join in conversations, merely sipped his drink and floated around the periphery; the presence of Law had definitely made talking to a stranger about the series less scary.

“So.”  Law twisted the strap of his bag in one clenched fist, eyes averted from Corazon’s. “Are we still going to your place to watch it?  Because if you’re tired-”

“I’m not!” Corazon promised.  Law still seemed nervous, so Corazon took a risk and added, “I’ve really been looking forward to watching this with you.”

“Oh.”

“...”

“Yeah.  I…you’ll probably pick up on things I’d miss, so…yeah.  What time does it start?”

“Ten our time,” Corazon answered while silently cursing the unfairness that Mariejois would get to have the premiere at a reasonable hour, while the rest of the world suffered. “But we can play something and eat dinner before then!”

“Ok,” Law agreed.

That little bit of agreement was all Corazon needed to convince himself to try doubly hard at this sleepover.  One way or another, he and Law would have a successful slumber party!