(coralaw, 1739 words. Fluff, first kiss.)
"I could still carry you if you get tired, you know?"
Rosinante plays it off like a joke, mostly because he knows law would hate it if he picks him up and throws the man over his shoulders or, god forbid, like a bridal. It makes rosinante smile, but he's quick to brush it off. None of them need him getting too distracted and falling face first on the thick snow they're pushing through.
As expected, Law doesn't find it amusing. He just grunts, grumpy and probably tired, and rosinante gets it. They've been walking for a while, Law too tired to shambles them to comfort. They can't risk it, not here where losing your strength could be fatal. Rosinante knows all about it, after all.
The island they find themselves in looks all too much like Minion, and while Rosinante knows damn well all winter islands look more or less the same, it's hard not to be pulled back to those memories. He has to be careful, be mindful of his words, and be gentle with Law. His captain is in enough of a bad mood to make things worse with memories of a tragic past. Now, things are different. They have a crew to return to (our crew, Law had said), a stunning submarine, a life. It's not just the two of them, wandering around desperately for a cure for the incurable, with a dying child in Rosinante's arms who was strong enough to turn his world outside down just by existing. Law, the boy he would die to save; the same one who saved Rosinante in return.
The gentle snow and the blanket of frozen land around them carries Law's voice perfectly, like it's only the two of them in the world right now. Distantly, Rosinante wonders what it would've been like, if it had been just the two of them traveling the world like they wanted. Would've Law been happy with that, even if that life had been quiet and reserved? No pirates, no fighting, just the two of them building a life...? Rosinante thinks Law would've been inevitably drawn to the freedom of piracy, sailing and in command of people who trust him. It suits him. And Rosinante would've followed, because what's the point of a life without his grumpy doctor?
His grumpy doctor who asked a question, and Rosinante got too in his head to catch on. At least he could process his distraction enough to realize he was going down rather quickly with a squeak. Not that his arms would do much to stop the fall, with the snow and his height and... Well, Rosinante.
"What did you say?" He asks, kneeling and becoming too aware of the snow melting through his clothes. Fuck, he should've done a better job with his clothes, but Law had needed him as soon as possible. What was a man meant to do when someone like Law asked for something, other than run to his call?
Rosinante turns his face to look at Law, a shy smile on his face. He no longer wore makeup, so he could feel his bare lips crack with the cold. Smiling made it more painful, but the huff of Law's tiny chuckle is worth it. Rosinante knows he'd do about anything to get Law smiling, so a little laugh is the biggest win in his book.
"Nevermind. You're gonna drop me," Law says, shaking his head and offering his hand to help Rosinante get up, and he happily takes it. However, the touch grounded him enough to understand what Law had asked before his clumsiness took control.
Rosinante's eyes widen, and with their height difference he gets to see Law face to face. The skin of his knees is damp and freezing, and one of his hands is loosing feeling being buried in the snow, but the one holding Law's is the one that matters.
"Ask me again," Rosinante mutters, searching for something in Law's face and being rewarded with a pretty blush that has nothing to do with the dropping temperature and everything to do with Law's rare shyness.
"No way! Just- Cora-san, you're gonna get soaked! Stand up!"
Law sputters and Rosinante feels his heart swell almost painfully watching the man tug his fluffy hat to hide what Rosinante already saw. It's so endearing, how that habit of Law's never went away. As if Rosinante couldn't see how honest and expressive Law's eyes are.
This time, his lower lip definitely tears with how big Rosinante's grin gets, as he all but launches towards Law and picks him up effortlessly. Still so light, the doctor. Still fitting perfectly in Rosinante's arms, where he's always belonged. Still barking a few Cora-san, don't you dare drop me! like the demon kid he used to be, and still curling into his chest, like he knows it too; that Rosinante's arms are made for protecting him.
It makes Rosinante's heart beat wild in his chest. He hopes Law doesn't notice, but he knows he will. Law notices everything about him, from a little white hair to a limp he tries to hide. There's nothing Law doesn't want to see, and it burns Rosinante so good it makes him want to cry. How blessed could he be, existing next to Law and being worth his attention? What good could he have possibly done to be granted such miracle?
"I'll never drop you," Rosinante promises. He can trip and fall and injure himself, but he'd rather take a bullet or twenty if it meant Law is safe and sound in his arms. He'd die for Law however many times he has to, and not regret it once. Even if it hurt to know he left Law alone, there was nothing more important than this wonderful man finding his freedom. Rosinante would do anything to protect it.
"Saying never implies you're gonna stick around forever." Law's voice is a little muffled from how close he's snuggling to his chest. Rosinante thinks he's hiding like that for more reasons than his exhaustion and the cold. "It means you're always gonna be around."
There's a tilt to Law's voice Rosinante has came to know, especially after a bad nightmare. Law's voice goes a bit higher, a bit unsure. scared. A boy who's known too much loss and can't bear to have more. It makes Rosinante want to cover him in his coat like he used to, but bringing his feather coat to a winter island felt like too much. He didn't want Law to drown in memories, not the bad ones. If possible, Rosinante want new ones to overwrite the pain and the tears, and soothe Law's pain until there are no more nightmares and all he can do is smile confidently by Rosinante's side.
There's nothing Rosinante wants more than sticking by Law's side.
He drops a small kiss on Law's hat, and holds him tighter, trying so hard not to blurt out something stupid like please, let me be your husband. But he hopes Law understands what he wants to say enough for it to make him happy, nothing more. If friendship is all he can offer, then Rosinante will take it. His own feelings can wait, right? He will find Law in the next life too, anyways.
"You're everything I want, always."
Law shifts in his arms, and for a second Rosinante fears he said something awfully wrong, until Law manages to prompt himself up enough to look at him face to face with big eyes and a conflicted face, but something like hope is shining in there. Rosinante has seen that look in his own face, whenever one of their crewmates sneaks a picture of them talking over coffee.
His heart races, and he stops walking.
There's still some light snowing, but it's not enough to freeze them. It's almost comforting, if the memories of snow weren't tainted by a decade old grief they're trying to navigate together. But for a moment, having Law in his arms, with bit expressive eyes, a healthy blush and a strong grip about his neck, Rosinante's brain takes in the moment. Of them, together in the most silent island, so close, so impossibly close...
"You promise...? Law whispers, and his golden eyes search in his own red ones. Analytical, assessing, but the tenderness of hope take them to Rosinante's mouth. One second too long for him to notice.
"I promise you, Law," and the pull is too strong, and maybe he's reading this all wrong but Law's arms get firmer in their hold, and he shudders a breath. His eyes are back in his mouth, and they search, and they want. And fuck, Rosinante wants it too.
He leans in, slowly enough to let Law pull away if it's not what he wants, what he means, and it feels like the sweetest torture. They breathe into each other, sharing air, just always sharing. Space, beds, coffee mugs, memories.
Can they share the same feelings, too...?
Law sighs again his lips the second they touch, and Rosinante would consider his chapped lips if he wasn't busy trembling against Law, from inexperience, from the cold, from the sheer want he's been holding back for too long. But now isn't the time to hold back, not anymore. So clumsily, Rosinante lets his rough lips press against Law's cold ones, once, two, three. Shy pecks, little brushes, feather light.
"I love you, Cora-san..."
Rosinante feels his knees wobble, ready to give up. But he promised to never drop Law, even when he's saying the words he's longed to hear. Not when Law's confession is whispered against his lips, when he can take and give as he wishes. So Rosinante kisses him more intensely, angling his head with Law's help to get a better angle, both trying to find a rhythm that isn't too clumsy and too eager, and they fail. Their teeth crash, and Rosinante's calves are pretty much frozen. They giggle, and the snow holds the sounds to trap them only for them. So this time, when Rosinante says I love you, he doesn't hide Law inside a chest. Instead, he carries the man to safety, soft and pliant in his arms, with sore lips and freezing legs. He carried Law to their ship, to their crew, and knows this time it's forever.
2087
stormborns
areudirty
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