Quatribobo @quatribobo - Tumblr Blog

just read the lifeguard au and was DELIGHTED by Luffy's emotional intelligence being on display and him helping zosan get together!! what you said there ab Luffy being seen as just mindless energy is too true!! it'd be pretty neat if we got more of aware Luffy for a non-au zosan 👀 captain like hm. my wings need to get together. lol

maybe he prods both of them lolol

this went. veering off slightly but yk what they say!! fuck it we ball!!!!

x

Luffy decides he’s going to fix this the same way he does everything important: by noticing the problem and trusting his gut and, then, if the problem continues refusing to become un-problem-shaped, he’s going to grab it with both hands and drag everyone he loves directly through it until something breaks open and gets better.

This has worked for countries, kingdoms, islands, friends, enemies, sea monsters, meals and at least three other problems Nami told him not to touch.

It stands to reason it’ll work for Zoro and Sanji.

The problem itself is ridiculously simple! Zoro and Sanji are being stupid in the way that only Zoro and Sanji are stupid, the way that seeps into the boards of the Sunny, warm and obvious and impossible to scrub out completely. Stupid in the way that sits underneath breakfast arguments and coils around sparring matches, in a way that follows them into battle, into dinner, into the thin blue hour before dawn and only people with too much in their chest are awake.

Luffy notices it in the little gaps, the way Zoro watches Sanji when Sanji isn’t looking, like he’s tracking a storm only he can smell is coming. Sanji crosses the deck with a tray in one hand and a cigarette in the other, snapping at Franky to quit leaving sharp things near flour sacks, and Zoro’s eye follows him from beneath half-lowered lashes. Sanji bends to kick Luffy’s hand away from a cooling pie and Zoro’s attention catches on the line of his back. Sanji laughs at something Robin says — one of those real, startled laughs he tries to hide as quickly as possible — and Zoro freezes.

On the other hand, Sanji talks louder whenever Zoro gets too close and this is important, Luffy thinks, because Sanji’s voice always changes depending on what he’s protecting. It goes soft for food and bright for Nami, gentle for Chopper and sharp for enemies. Sharper for himself, always. For Zoro, though, Sanji gets loud like volume’s armour. Zoro steps into the galley and Sanji’s shoulders go tight before he starts yelling about muddy boots. Zoro leans too close to steal something from a plate and Sanji’s insult comes out too quick and too hot and already loaded before Zoro’s even really done anything. Zoro says one word and Sanji reacts like he’s been handed a lit match and needs to decide whether to burn the room down there and then.

They spark, is the other other problem, but then both of them pretend there’s no fire and that won’t do. They bicker and fight and move together seamlessly. Zoro cuts left and Sanji kicks right and ducks and Zoro’s blade passes over him and one takes the opening the other makes without looking or asking, like trust’s something their bodies figured out before their mouths could ruin it.

They touch each other in a way Luffy understands and speaks fluently himself — a fist to the shoulder saying there you are and a kick aimed just short of saying keep up. He gets that part, at least: he’s dragged friends out of darkness with his bare hands and written it off as normal, punched people because words were too small. He’s hugged with his whole body because anything less would feel lying.

Waiting for Zoro and Sanji to work out there’s a different kind of touch is like standing under a sky that hasn’t rained yet, the air getting all thick and charged, so. He’s going to fix it, because he’s the captain and their friend and they deserve to be happy and he’s pretty sure (like. ninety percent sure) that this is what captains do. The other other other problem is… he doesn’t actually know how people get together. He knows how people become nakama, sure, because that’s easy, but dating is different. It seems to have all these layers and rules and etiquette and things people are meant to say before they can do the thing they both clearly want to do. Dating seems like it’s full of strange invisible doors and because they’re invisible it’s not like Luffy can just go kick them down.

Questions spin slowly through his brain as he stares at the bottom of the bunk above, chewing on one of his fingernails absentmindedly. Do people have to ask each other? Do they have to confess? Do they have to go somewhere special? Sanji would probably say yes. Are flowers required? Nami likes flowers if they’re expensive and Robin likes flowers if they might’ve once been used in some kind of burial rite. Sanji likes gifting flowers but gets weird when someone gives him, well, anything.

He considers the simplest option, which is just yelling at them to kiss across the deck, but then he imagines Sanji turning bright red and shouting something about manners and kicking him. He imagines Zoro pretending not to hear, ears pink under the sun, and then the next three days being withdrawn and haunted.

He groans into his hands a little because it’s becoming clearer and clearer that this needs actual strategy and normally he’s not so into that, but he loves his crew more than he hates thinking, unfortunately. Thus, he does what any responsible captain would do and starts gathering information like it’s a battle plan.

He goes to Nami first, because Nami knows everything (that’s not even his opinion, it’s just a law of the sea at this point). She knows when the weather’s going to turn and when a shopkeeper is cheating her and when Luffy’s touched something he shouldn’t and when someone is lying. She knows the value of gold down to every last coin and the value of silence down to every last breath and is his best bet, always. He finds her in the library with ehr legs crossed beneath her chair, looking relaxed with Robin sitting opposite her, engaged in a card game. They look, Luffy reckons, like two people who could bankrupt a government and then politely ask if anyone maybe wants tea.

He plants both elbows on the table, leans forward and asks: “How do people get together?”

Nami doesn’t look up. “Bribery.”

Robin sets down her cards with exquisite calm and feral curiosity. “There are many methods. When you say together, what are you hoping for?”

Luffy hums. “I dunno. Romance. Like, when people start doing the whole kissing thing.”

That does it: Nami’s hand stills and she turns her head slowly, scenting blood in the water. “Why are you asking us this?”

Luffy gestures with both hands, broad and obvious. “Zoro and Sanji are still being stupid and it’s been years now.”

Robin makes a small sound that contains several years of detailed observation, probably. Nami presses her lips together in that way that means she’s trying not to laugh and also trying not to admit Luffy’s right about something. “You noticed.”

Luffy scowls. “I’m the captain.”

Nami’s expression turns fond as she leans back in her chair, tapping the cards against the table a few times like she’s trying to align her thoughts. “Okay, hypothetically. If two idiots were in love —”

“They are.”

“Yes, of course they are. Anyway, with any two normal people one would just confess because they have, say, emotional intelligence.”

“Boring,” Luffy mutteres, then thinks about Zoro staring silently at walls instead of talking and Sanji setting things on fire with his eyes because someone was nice to him. He clicks his tongue. “That probably won’t work here.”

Nami’s mouth twitches. “Probably not.”

Robin lays a card down. “Sometimes danger can clarify what people are unwilling to say.”

Nami points a card at Luffy before his grin can get too wide. “Do not put them in danger on purpose or so help me!”

“I wasn’t gonna,” he sulks, only mostly lying.

Robin chuckles. “There is also forced proximity, when two people are placed in a situation where avoidance becomes impossible. Sharing a room, that sort of thing.”

“This crew is a disease.” Nami pinches the bridge of her nose.

“A lively one.”

Nami ignores that, leaning forward to narrow her eyes at Luffy. “The point is, those two don’t need more chances to yell at each other. They need a situation where the yelling finally runs out.”

Luffy nods slowly, absorbing this, thinking about a place they can’t run and a place where fighting isn’t enough. A place where Zoro can’t just sleep through his feelings and Sanji can’t smoke them away. Robin smiles behind her fingertips. “Or they could come to a mutual understanding through consistent emotional vulnerability.”

Luffy stares at her, deflating a little. “Oh. Boring again.”

Nami must see his thoughts forming, because her eyes get sharper and her voice drops into the tone she uses before she brings down thunderstorms and ruin. “No. You are not specifically creating a disaster to get your crew to kiss. Why don’t you just talk to them about it?”

“If I tell them Sanji will yell. And Zoro will pretend he didn’t hear me.”

“Zoro always pretends he doesn’t hear people.”

“And then they’ll both be worse,” Luffy continues, with the certainty of someone who knows his crew down to the marrow. “Sanji will make too much food and get made if Zoro eats it, and Zoro will sleep somewhere dumb and they’ll fight for days and pretend it isn’t because they wanna kiss.”

There’s a little silence, soft with the afternoon light and the sweet sway of the Sunny beneath them, Robin’s expression going a little distant in the way it does when she’s thinking of histories no-one’s written down or scars people carry like secret maps. “Sanji-san does have a talent for retreating from sincerity.”

“You mean sprinting from it,” Nami mutters. She throws her cards down onto the table. “Look, if you want it to happen you need an environment where they can’t run away from it.”

“Okay!” Luffy’s already half-standing, renewed energy fizzing under his skin because it sounds like Nami’s talking about a quest and a quest is perfect — they have tasks and monsters and running and probably meat, if you look hard enough. Quests give people things to do with their hands when their mouths are being useless.

Nami catches his wrist before he can launch himself out of the room. Her eyes are serious and warm, because Nami’s always been good at knowing when something is funny but still matters. “Listen. Don’t force them somewhere they can’t choose. THose two are idiots, but they’re our idiots. They need a push, not a cage.”

Robin nods. “And perhaps remember that sometimes people need to arrive at happiness believing they found the path themselves.”

Luffy thinks about it very hard and grins. “So I make the path for them to find.”

She smiles. “Close enough.”

Usopp’s easy to find, because god knows the sniper’s always in the middle of something that looks like a warzone but definitely smells like an apology just waiting to happen. He’s in the workshop, where the benches are cluttered with his genius, from tools to coils of wire to jars of seeds and scraps of leather. There’s something in the corner that looks like a welded frog wearing a tiny paper hat. Usopp’s bent over the bench with his goggles pushed up into his hair and his tongue caught between his teeth, hands moving with precision, brilliant and probably mildly explosive.

Luffy leans against the bench and taps the frog. It starts ticking, alarmingly. “How do people get together?”

Usopp goes still, face doing something extremely interesting, starting with panic and then understanding and then delight and then horror and then, finally, some type of solemn resignation. “Is this about who I think it’s about? Because oh my god, finally.”

Luffy frowns. “Finally?”

“Luff, I’ve been living inside a stage drama for months. Months. Years, even! Do you know what that does to a man? Do you understand what it’s like to eat breakfast while two people argue about pepper and make it feel like foreplay?”

Luffy considers this. “No.”

“Exactly!” Usopp points at him with a screwdriver. “You’re free! Your brain’s uncluttered. Mine has become some kind of haunted… theatre.”

Luffy leans forward, emboldened, eyes bright. “So you know how to fix it.”

“I didn’t say that.” He glances at the door like he’s considering escaping, before apparently remembering that escaping Luffy’s impossible at best. “Romance is delicate, you know.”

“They aren’t delicate.”

“That’s the problem!”

Luffy rolls his eyes and hoists himself up onto the bench and waits it out. He’s good at waiting when he wants something, even if his whole body hums with impatience and his toes tap and his shoulders rock. He’s learned to wait with the enormous confidence of someone who knows the world will eventually give him what he wants, one way or another.

Usopp lasts eleven seconds before he drags both hands down his face, spreading soot everywhere. “Okay. Okay, we need a strategy. We’re dealing with two emotionally constipated combat monsters who think vulnerabilty’s something you punch. We need pressure, not bad trauma pressure — definitely not trauma pressure, we’ve got enough of that around here. We’re stocked with trauma. We’re overflowing. We could sell it wholesale.”

“Pressure.”

“Right! A situation where they have to rely on each other, you know? Like, emotional pressure.”

Luffy knocks his heels against the bench and thinks about what Nami had said. “Like a quest. But a good one.”

“No such thing as a good quest with you lot. But yes, unfortunately. Probably.” The frog ticks louder and he turns and yelps: “Not now!”

Luffy grins at him. “You’re really good at this.”

Usopp preens. “Yes, well, genius is a burdern. Anyway, they already trust each other. That’s the hard part and somehow they did it. You just… have to give them somewhere to put the rest.”

“The kissing.”

“The feelings,” the other man corrects and then groans. “But yeah, sure, probably also the kissing.”

He saves Law for last, because Law is… different. Nami gives advice like she’s sharpening knives and Usopp like he’s building a bomb and hoping for the best. Robin gives advice like she knows the ending and is just patiently waiting for everyone else to catch up. Law, though… Law gives advice like he’s removing something from beneath the skin, which seems fitting. It’s always careful and reluctant and annoyed that it’s come to him in the first place.

Luffy borrows the Den Den from the navigation station and, yes, he’s not technically supposed to touch Nami’s things without asking, but Nami is asleep, and Luffy is brave, and the snail is sitting there looking extremely available, so. Luffy rocks on his heels while the snail’s antennae quiver once, then twice, then three times before Law’s narrowed eyes and tired mouth and little spotted hat are translated absurdly onto the creature’s soft head. “Why are you calling at this hour?”

“I have a question.”

“No.”

Luffy laughs. “I didn’t ask yet! How do people get together?”

Law’s silence makes the DenDen’s little mouth stiffen. “What?”

“How do people get together?” Luffy repeats, patient. “Like kissing and romance and stuff.”

Law’s stare sharpens, the tiny snail’s eyebrows drawing together. The room seems to grow quieter around them, the sea hush pressed up against the windows like it wants to listen, too. Law’s voice comes out slowly. “Why are you asking me that?”

Luffy shrugs, letting his body slump against the wall. “I mean, it’s obvious, right?”

“Obvious,” Law repeats, carefully, like he’s measuring this word for word. “You should be sure, before you do anything. If you change something like that it can be… difficult to return to what you had before.”

Luffy frowns. “Why would I want to go back? If it gets better, it gets better.”

The silence after that is enormous. The DenDen is very, very still. Then Law mutters: “You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple.”

“No, it certainly is not. People aren’t always sure what they want and sometimes wanting something does not mean you can keep it. Sometimes crossing a line costs more than you expect.”

Luffy listens with a frown. Law says things like this sometimes— heavy things, dark things, things with old blood still on them. Luffy doesn’t always understand all the pieces but he understands the shape, understands when Law’s talking about something that hurt him. He understands when the other man is holding a knife by the blade and pretending his hand isn’t bleeding. He chews his bottom lip, watching the way the moonlight spears the sea beyond the window. “So, what do I do?”

Law takes a slow breath, quiet long enough that Luffy starts poking at the DenDen’s cheek until the poor snail looks offended. It does, however, get Law talking again, even if his voice comes out more strained than usual. “Make it clear you mean it. Do you mean it?”

Luffy nods immediately. “Yes.”

Law’s voice lowers. “Completely?”

“Yes!”

“You understand it may change… everything.”

“That’s the point,” Luffy snorts, cheerful and absolute. “Everything’s supposed to change.”

Law goes silent again; Luffy can practically feel him thinking through the line. Too many thoughts, probably, because Law always has too many thoughts. They crowd behind his eyes and make him look older than he is. Finally, he sighs. “Then meet me at the next island.”

Luffy grins at once. “Okay! Thanks, Traffy! You’re the best!”

For one strange, suspended second, neither of them says anything and all Luffy can hear and feel is the Sunny breathing around him, holding him firm. Then the call clicks off, the DenDen’s face melting back into its own sleepy expression, antennae drooping and Luffy sits there for exactly two seconds, vibrating before he launches himself out of the room and bolts down the hallway to find Nami.

x

The island waits for them in layers of green, rising from the sea like something ancient and yet somehow half asleep, all black cliffs veined with silvery water and jungle spilling down towards the shore in glossy waves. Vines hang from the trees like ropes, every flower too bright and every insect too loud. Somewhere deep beneath the canopy, something heavy moves and sends birds shrieking upward in a burst of wings.

It’s probably dangerous and definitely interesting and ultimately perfect, so Luffy’s already grinning by the time the Polar Tang surfaces in the cove. The sea foams around her as she settles, steady and strange beside the Sunny’s bright, open warmth. The Tang always feels different to Luffy, quieter and sealed, a den full of secrets. Like its captain, really. Law looks tired, because he always looks tired. He also looks sharper than usual, something stiff in the line of his body, guarded and deliberate, like he’s spent the entire trip here preparing for an ambush but the ambush is just… Luffy saying hello.

Luffy lights up anyway, waving with both arms. “Traffy!”

Bepo waves enthusiastically. “Hi, Luffy!”

“Bepo!” Luffy yells back, thrilled.

The Heart pirates spill onto the shore in a loose cluster, boots sinking into damp sand, voices rising as they greet the Straw Hats. The two crews mingle in that strange, easy way they have now, still separate and still their own odd shapes but familiar enough to share jokes and complaints and stolen snacks. Usopp immediately begins explaining something to Penguin with large gestures while Chopper runs straight to Bepo, Nami talking to Shachi for exactly three seconds before he looks frightened.

“We’re gonna fix it today,” Luffy vows and Law’s mouth tightens. His hand shifts near Kikoku’s hilt as his voice drops.

“And you’re still sure.”

“Yep,” Luffy says cheerfully. “I made a plan.”

Across the beach Sanji’s unloading supplies with far more force than necessary, Zoro hovering nearby with his swords and doing absolutely nothing useful, which is apparently enough to make Sanji’s shoulders creep up toward his ears.

“You could help,” Sanji snaps without turning around.

Zoro tilts his head. “Looks like you got it.”

Sanji whirls, cigarette flashing between his teeth. “That’s not the point, seaweed-head!”

Zoro’s mouth twitches. “You asking for help?”

“I’m asking you not to stand there looking useless!”

It’s worse on the island, somehow. Away from the routine of the ship, stripped of breakfast and chores and familiar corners to hide in, the tension has nowhere to soak. It hangs in the humid air around them, bright and charged as heat lightning. Sanji moves like he’s one insult away from either kicking Zoro into a tree or kissing him hard enough to bruise and Zoro watches him like he’d accept either outcome.

Luffy’s grin spreads slowly because yeah, this is going to work. Law follows his gaze and whatever he sees makes his face go blank in a way that isn’t blank at all. “Wait… what exactly are we fixing?”

Luffy points with both hands. “Them!”

Law doesn’t move, not at first. For one strange second, Luffy thinks Law looks almost disappointed, before he turns his head away, voice perfectly flat. “Of course.”

Luffy grabs Law’s sleeve and pulls him toward the tree line. “C’mon on! Adventure! Zoro, Sanji, let’s go! You guys are strong, you can help us explore!”

Sanji’s lips part in some kind of halfhearted sneer around his cigarette. He looks like he wants to argue but unfortunately Luffy has chosen one of the few compliments Sanji never knows how to deflect without becoming awkward. But then Zoro snorts and Sanji immediately recovers. “Something funny, Mosshead?”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“You breathed like an asshole.”

Zoro’s grin is small and mean and almost fond. “You listen to my breathing a lot, Curls?”

The silence that follows is so loud even the jungle seems to pause. Sanji’s ears go faintly pink and Usopp makes a tiny choking sound somewhere behind Nami. Luffy rocks on his heels, thrilled, feeling the thread between Zoro and Sanji draw tighter and tighter, tight enough to hum. Law sees it too, apparently: his mouth thins.

“Fine,” Sanji snaps, slamming the crate down. “Someone has to keep you from wandering into a sinkhole.”

“You’d miss me.”

Sanji’s whole face does something dangerous. “I’d miss having something stupid to kick.”

“Eh, same thing.”

Luffy laughs and launches himself toward the trees, letting the jungle swallow them whole.

The beach’s clean salt wind disappears behind a wall of green heat, the air turning thick enough to drink, practically: water is constantly dripping from somewhere unseen, pattering onto leaves and sliding down trunks and gathering in the curled throats of flowers big enough to cup in both hands. The ground breathes underfoot, soft with moss and old rot, insects whining about in shimmering clouds.

Luffy leads like he always does: straight forward, no fear, trusting his instincts like the world’s on his side because, hey, it often is. Zoro follows slightly to his left, silent and alert, one hand resting near his swords. He always becomes quieter in places like this, absorbed into danger’s rhythm. His eye tracks movement in the underbrush while Sanji follows on Luffy’s right, complaining under his breath about the humidity and the bugs and swordsmen who think good hygiene’s optional. He moves beautifully despite all that, cigarette somehow still lit in air too wet for fire to make sense. Every few steps his gaze cuts toward Zoro and every few steps Zoro’s gaze meets it and then both of them look away like they’ve been caught stealing.

Law brings up the rear, coat brushing damp leaves, face composed in a way that suggests he’d rather be cutting out his own appendix with a spoon. Luffy glances back at him and grins anyway. They walk until the trees thin just enough to reveal a cliff face rising ahead, black stone slick and sunlight spilling over the ledge high above, bright and tempting. The wind moves differently here, carrying the sharp cry of birds and Luffy stops so abruptly Sanji almost walks into him. “Let’s climb the cliff!”

Sanji squints up at the cliff with a sullen little scowl. He adjusts the backpack he’s brought, scuffing the toe of his boot into the ground. “This is stupid.”

“Yep,” Zoro agrees and starts climbing anyway. Sanji looks like he might choke them all out of sheer spite, before he clicks his tongue and kicks off the ground, Skywalking upwards with each step cracking the air beneath his feet. He passes Zoro halfway up just to be petty and Zoro’s grin flashes, feral. “Show off.”

Sanji doesn’t look down. “Keep climbing, decorative moss.”

Law stands still for a moment, considering, before blue light blooms around him, clean and cold against all the jungle’s damp gold. Space bends and then the next thing Luffy knows, Law’s on a ledge halfway up the cliff, coat settling around him with insulting calm.

Zoro looks over from where he’s gripping a vine. “Cheating.”

Law snorts. “Efficiency.”

Sanji lands on the top edge first, arms crossed, hair bright in the sun. “God, you’re both insufferable.”

Zoro drags himself over the ledge a moment later and stands too close to him on purpose. “Both?”

The jungle falls away below as the cliff top opens around them, a green sea rippling under the wind. The breeze is cooler up here, clean enough to cut through the humidity, carrying salt and bird cries and the smell of lush greenery. Above them, the sky is full of wings as huge seabirds wheel on the currents, their long tails scissoring through the light. Their bodies are dark as ink against the sun, throats flashing red when they turn as they ride the wind with ease, sporadically dropping into violent dives and screaming at one another like thieves.

Zoro squints up. “Those gulls are huge.”

Law, who has apparently been personally offended by this error, sniffs. “They’re not gulls. They’re frigatebirds.”

Zoro glances at him. “What’s a frigatebird?”

Law stares. “A bird.”

Sanji snorts. “Brilliant. Doctor and scholar.”

Law ignores him with the strength of a captain who’s had to make ignoring idiots into some kind of survival skill. “They can stay in the air for weeks as their feathers aren’t waterproof, so they can’t land on the water. They like to steal food from other birds mid flight.”

Zoro’s interest sharpens. “They steal it?”

“Well, they harass other birds until they drop or regurgitate food.”

“Respect.”

Sanji turns on him, betrayed. “Respect? For aerial mugging? Quit bonding with him over criminal birds.”

“Jealous, Curls?”

Sanji’s whole body goes rigid. “Of a… bird?”

“Of Traffy.”

Law’s eyes close. “Do not involve me.”

Luffy watches, chin in both hands, practically vibrating with joy because there’s that thread again, running from Sanji’s clenched jaw to Zoro’s lazy smile, from Zoro’s attention to the pink climbing Sanji’s ears. Every insult pulls it taut, silence twisting it tighter. They look like they’re fighting, but Luffy knows fighting. This is something else wearing fighting’s clothes.

The sun’s started sinking toward the western edge of the island and the jungle shifts around them in kind, afternoon heat melting into evening gold. The leaves stop shining and begin glowing deep green at the veins, vines rimmed in light. Something sings from the canopy, low and sweet and something else answers by shrieking like it’s been murdered. The frigatebirds snatch fish from each other mid air and sweep upwards and upwards again and again, triumphant and rude. Zoro watches them with obvious approval and also watches Sanji, because he’s always watching Sanji. His gaze keeps flicking back to the side of Sanji’s face, heavy in the late sun, before he looks back toward the birds.

Luffy’s grin softens.

They’ve climbed and argued and almost maybe complimented each other. No-one has kissed yet, which is disappointing, but god knows Luffy’s learned from Nami that some treasures take time to dig up and from Usopp that rushing explosives is bad unless you want your eyebrows gone.

He decides on snacks, thinking maybe people talk better when they are eating. Sanji knows this better than anyone, which means he can’t even complain when Luffy uses it against him. “Snack time!”

Zoro sits down on a flat stretch of stone with the immediate obedience of a man who supports a good snack attack regardless of whatever motive lies beyond it. Sanji, on the other hand, gives a long-suffering sigh, but he reaches into his pack to produce wrapped rice balls, sliced fruit, little skewers of grilled meat and a tin of something sweet dusted with sugar. He lays everything out on a plaid cloth with more care than he’d ever admit to using. Luffy watches his hands along the way; Sanji’s hands are always good to watch, quick and precise and tender when he thinks no-one’s paying attention. They arrange food like small promises and brush crumbs away and tap ash off cigarettes. They bandage wounds while his mouth complains about idiots.

Luffy loves those hands because they feed his crew and thinks — knows — Zoro might love them for that, too.

Zoro reaches for a skewer but Sanji smacks his hand without looking. “Wash your hands.”

Zoro makes a show of looking around at the absolute lack of water within reach before deliberately taking the skewer with his fingers.

Sanji’s eye twitches. “Were you raised in a cave?”

“Dojo.”

“Same thing.”

Zoro shrugs and bites into the meat, probably not even clocking the way Sanji tries not to look pleased when he hums low in approval. Luffy, who’s been waiting for an opening and also chewing three rice balls at once, decides this seems like a pretty good place to start. “What’s important in a partner?”

Everyone stops. A frigatebird howls overhead and the three men with him do not move at all, until Sanji finally turns his head to stare. “In a what?”

“A partner,” Luffy clarifies around rice. “Like, if you’re with someone.”

Sanji looks at Luffy for several seconds and then at Law, then at Zoro and finally back at Luffy. Suspicion sharpens across his face. “Why are you asking that?”

“Because I wanna know.”

“That’s never been a safe answer from you.”

“It’s true!”

“It can be true and unsafe.”

Zoro swallows down whatever he’s been chewing, expression distant as he stares off into the sky. “Strong.”

Luffy points at him, delighted. “Strong is important?”

Sanji scoffs, recovering his ground because mocking Zoro is easier than engaging with the question, apparently. “Of course that’s your answer. Romantic as a brick through a window.”

Zoro glances at him with a narrowed eye and a pursed mouth. “You like strong.”

The pink comes back to Sanji’s ears, darker this time. “I like competence, there’s a difference!”

Zoro’s mouth curves. “Sure.”

Luffy leans forward with his chin in his hands and studies the both of them, their matching flushes and averted eyes. “So, competence is important?”

Sanji looks like he has just realised he answered a question he meant to avoid, judging by the way his shoulders stiffen. Smoke slips from his mouth in a thin, annoyed line. “Sure,” he says finally. “Competence, obviously. You should be able to trust someone not to fall apart the second things get difficult.”

Zoro snorts and Sanji’s gaze cuts to him, ruthless. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was a very loud nothing, asshole.”

Zoro rolls his eye and glares out toward the ocean. His voice comes out low and sure. “You like people who don’t run.”

The words settle between them like something heavier than teasing and for a moment the whole world seems to hold its breath around them, from the birds high above to the sea far below, to the cloth between them weighted with food and fading sunlight. Sanji’s cigarette burns untouched between his fingers. His mouth tightens and Luffy watches him, carefully, because Sanji is so loud when he’s hiding. He fills rooms with smoke and shouting and all those sharp, bright manners. But… sometimes something gets past the noise, something small and true, and then Sanji goes terribly quiet.

“Yeah,” he says, finally. Softer. “Maybe.”

Luffy feels warm all through his chest, even as he turns back to Zoro. “What else?”

Zoro gives him a flat look, implying just how badly Luffy’s betrayed him by continuing the conversation. “Why d’you need to know?”

“It’s important to me.”

Law makes a quiet sound into his tea that might be pain. Zoro’s eye narrows but he answers anyway; Zoro always answers Luffy eventually. “Someone who keeps up.”

Sanji laughs once, sharp. “God forbid anyone walk at a normal speed while you get lost behind them.”

Zoro ignores him. “Someone who can stand beside you in a fight.”

Sanji’s expression changes again, just a little. His gaze drops to the food, to the sunlight pooled gold over the fruit slices. His fingers flex against his knee and Zoro continues, slower now, like he’s pulling the words from somewhere stubborn. “Doesn’t have to follow. Doesn’t have to lead. Just… there.”

The wind lifts the edge of the cloth. Sanji’s hand comes down to hold it in place at the same moment Zoro’s does, fingers touching and for one long breath neither of them moves. Sanji finally snatches his hand. “Very poetic. Did the birds inspire you?”

Zoro’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

Luffy laughs, delighted, and glances at Law. “What about you, Traffy? What’s important in a partner?”

Law’s head lifts, face blank in a way that makes Luffy pause. The late sun catches the gold of his eyes and makes them look warmer than usual, less like a surgeon’s instruments and more like something buried deep under glass.

“Trust.” The word comes out flat, but Luffy knows Law well enough to hear when flat means careful. Sanji’s expression sobers and, opposite him, Zoro goes quiet too. Law rests one wrist over his knee, fingers loose, tattoos dark against his skin. “Someone who sees the worst possible outcome and stays anyway, who doesn’t confuse fear with weakness. Someone who understands that running toward danger is not the same as being brave unless you know what you’re protecting.”

Luffy listens, chewing slower now, frowning at the way Law’s voice has changed again. It does that sometimes, dropping lower and sharper at the edges, like he’s talking about a battlefield and a hospital room and a promise all at once.

“Someone who comes back,” Law adds quietly.

Luffy smiles again, frank and true, unable to help it. “I always come back.”

Law’s gaze flicks to him and, for that single moment, everything in Law’s face opens and closes too fast for Luffy to understand. It makes Sanji look away and makes Zoro glance between them with sudden, lazy interest. Law exhales, slowly. “Yes. You do.”

Luffy grins, pleased to have understood at least that part and Sanji coughs into his fist. “Fuck, that was embarrassing.”

“Said the one who said competence like you were hiring waiters or something,” Zoro mutters.

“Excuse me? Your answer was just strong, you emotionally bankrupt cactus!”

“Strong matters.”

“Yeah, well, congrats on your taste in, what, walls!”

“Walls don’t kick.”

“Not with that attitude!”

Luffy giggles into his food, pleased all the same. He watches Sanji hand Zoro the last skewer without looking at him and watches Zoro take it without teasing and watches Law watching him from the corner of his eye, expression tucked away again but not gone.

Love, Luffy thinks, is strange. He knows people make it hard because they’re scared or because they think wanting means losing or, hell, sometimes just because they’re too proud to say stay here when they could say idiot instead. But the feeling itself seems simple to Luffy: it’s just wanting someone at the table. Wanting them in the fight. Wanting them to eat first or last or more.

Wanting them to come back and to stand beside you by choice.

Luffy loves his crew like that, big and easy and ferocious. He loves them in a way that has teeth, enough to tear down walls and punch gods and declare war and steal food and share food and chase. Enough to wait and laugh and bleed and believe. He knows Zoro and Sanji love like that too. They just haven’t noticed the shape of it yet.

The sun dips lower still, rimming every stone with light. The birds become black cutouts against the burning sky. The jungle below is already gathering blue shadows in it and Luffy dusts the crumbs off his shorts, set on the second act. He beams at them. “Okay! Law and I are gonna go back now. You guys need to stay here overnight.”

Sanji stares at him, wind lifting his hair softly around his face. He looks like he’s considering throwing Luffy clean off the cliff. “Fucking excuse me?”

“To make sure the island’s safe.” Luffy shrugs, because he hadn’t actually thought of a solid reason for this part just yet. It makes sense though, with the birds and the… beautiful jungle and whatnot.

Zoro looks at Luffy for a long, assessing moment. “The island?”

“Yep.”

“This cliff?”

“Yep!”

Sanji gestures a little too aggressively at the open sky and the entirely peaceful plateau. “From what, exactly?”

Right on cue, one of the frigatebirds screams overhead and Luffy takes it for the gift it is. He points upwards. “That! It might be dangerous.”

Law looks annoyed. “They're not dangerous.”

“See, Traffy says it’s dangerous,” Luffy tells Sanji.

Sanji throws both hands into the air. “I’m trapped in a nightmare made of idiots!”

Luffy smiles at him, bright and warm, but softer now too. “You can do it,” he says and knows it’ll work, because god knows Sanji can argue with nonsense forever and can kick logic into pieces and set fire to reason and call everyone involved several creative names but he can’t argue with Luffy trusting him, not really.

Zoro shifts beside him, silent, gaze sliding to Luffy first before returning back to Sanji. He lies back against the stone with his hands behind his head, like staying overnight on some random cliff was his plan all along. “Fine, whatever.”

Sanji whips towards him. “You know this is stupid!”

Zoro closes his eye, mouth softening as he settles in. “You’ll live.”

“I’ll kill you before dawn.”

“Eh, I’d like to see you try.”

Sanji makes a furious sound but he’s already peering at the food and the angle of the wind and the coming dark, clearly making camp in his head despite his verbal protests. Luffy starts tugging Law back towards the foliage, almost surprised that Law actually lets himself be pulled. Behind them, Sanji shouts: “If I die up here I’m haunting you first, Luffy!”

Luffy cups his hands around his mouth. “Okay! That sounds fun!” By the time he’s dragged Law halfway down the cliff path, he’s decided that leaving them alone is a good idea in theory and a terrible idea in practice because if he leaves them alone then how’s he meant ot see whether or not it’s working? He stops so suddenly Law almost walks into him.

Law catches himself with a sharp inhale. “Straw Hat.”

Luffy turns, finger to his lips. “Shh. We’re hiding.”

“No,” Law hisses immediately, tugging his hand free.

“Yes,” Luffy argues, already crouching so he can peer through a gap in the leaves. From here, they can see the clearing spread out under the wide sky and the way Sanji’s still standing near the food spread with both his hands on his hips, glaring at Zoro.

It’s a perfect view. An excellent bush. Luffy reaches up to tug insistently at Law’s coat until the other man huffs with irritation and slinks down to his knees. “I crossed half the sea for this.”

“Yeah!” Luffy whispers happily. “Thanks!”

In the clearing, Sanji’s getting down to business. “We need shelter.”

Zoro doesn’t even open his eye. “Sky’s clear.”

“Sky’s clear now.”

“So?”

“So weather changes, you brainless compost heap.”

Zoro grins. “You scared of rain?”

Sanji points at him. “I’m scared of waking up with moss growing on me because you think damp rock’s a mattress.”

“That happened once.”

“It happened twice!”

Luffy guffaws and leans into it becuase this is good and familiar: bickering is how Zoro and Sanji circle anything that matters, the sound they make when they get too close to saying something real. Still, after a while, it’s also a little… boring. They spend nearly ten minutes arguing about whether to build a lean to beneath the trees or sleep closer to the cliff edge where the wind’ll keep insects away. Sanji makes several excellent points and Zoro makes one point, which is that if something attacks them he’d rather see it coming. Sanji responds that this assumes Zoro will be awake, which historical evidence just… does not support.

Law watches in silence, arms folded over his knees and Luffy glances at him. “Sooo. Bepo looked happy.”

“Bepo is often happy.”

“Because he’s nice.”

Law’s expression shifts almost imperceptibly. “Yes.”

Luffy smiles at him, softer now. “You look less tired. Less like you’re gonna bite someone.”

Law’s mouth almost moves, close enough to giving in that Luffy feels warm with victory.

Below them Sanji’s apparently won the shelter argument, because he’s now dragging broad leaves and flexible branches into a tidy pile while insulting Zoro’s entire worldview. Zoro, despite claiming shelter is unnecessary, has gotten up to gather wood and is moving through the edge of the clearing with that grounded strength of his, cutting fallen branches down to size with quick and efficient strikes.

Sanji watches him from the corner of his eye, badly.

“You know,” Law drawls, “For people supposedly unaware of each other, they’re remarkably committed to stalking.”

Luffy’s grin stretches wide. “Right?”

As the hour drgas on the world around them turns honey thick, evening pouring across the plateau in slanting bands, catching in Sanji’s hair until the blonde looks almost molten. Fireflies wake one-by-one and at first it’s only a few sparks tremble in the undergrowth. Then it’s dozens, blinking through the dusk in soft pulses and gathering around the clearing where Zoro and Sanji are building their temporary little world. The air fills with their glow until it looks like the stars have come down early.

Sanji pauses with an armful of branches and just looks, face gone quiet in the light, all the usual noise slipping off him for a moment. “Damn,” he whistles and the word comes out softer than it was probably meant to, soft enough that even Zoro looks up to see where fireflies tremble around Sanji’s knees, winking in and out of the world.

“It’s beautiful,” Sanji admits and behind the leaves, Luffy makes his body be still, recognising that certain kind of quiet that comes over their cook when he’s caught by something lovely. It smoothes the sharpness from his mouth and loosens his shoulders, making him look younger and older at once, like the boy he used to be and the man who survived him are standing in the same light.

Zoro glances around at the open sky and the slow pulse of fireflies, and the last red seam of sun caught on the far edge of the sea. “Yeah, looks good.”

Sanji’s expression shifts back toward familiar territory, one eyebrow rising and mouth beginning to open, but it doesn’t quite make it. The softness is still there, betrayed by the light, by the way his gaze lingers on Zoro’s face like he’s trying to decide whether to laugh or hide. “Miracle of miracles,” he mutters. “Roronoa Zoro thinks something looks good.”

Zoro shrugs, eyes on the twigs in his hands. “Lots of things look good.”

Sanji lets out a laugh under his breath, a little thin. Nervous, maybe. Startled, definitely. Like something in Zoro’s voice has hooked under his ribs. “Do they now? Bet you can’t name three.”

Behind the thicket, Luffy breathes so loudly in anticipation that Law presses one hand firmly over his mouth before disaster can happen.

In the clearing, Zoro looks back down at the kindling. For a man who can split steel, face down monsters and walk into a war like it’s an errand he suddenly looks deeply frustrated by the fact that words exist. He shifts a stick from one palm to the other, thumb dragging along the bark, slow and rough, catching on a sharp edge he doesn’t seem to feel. His jaw works visibly, shoulders set too squarely, like he’s bracing for a blow no sword on earth can block.

“The sea,” he says finally.

Sanji snorts, though his eyes don’t move from Zoro’s face. “That barely counts, everyone likes the sea.”

“The Sunny.”

“Ugh. I guess that’s better,” Sanji allows grimly. “Sentimental, even. I’m disturbed.”

Zoro’s thumb stills against the bark, fireflies blinking and for one scary heartbeat Luffy thinks Zoro might stop there, that he’ll retreat into a grunt or an insult or the silence he wears like armour sometimes. But then Zoro inhales once, sharp, and says: “You.”

The sound seems to pull back from Zoro and Sanji, leaving a hollowed space between them where the word lands and stays. Sanji stares at him, the branches in his arms shifting slightly, leaves whispering against each other. “What?”

Zoro’s grip tightens until one twig cracks in his hand.

Luffy feels something open in his chest because he knows — he knows — Zoro is brave in all the ways that are easy to see. He’ll step in front of blades and jump into lightning and fight his way into impossible odds. He’ll bleed until standing becomes a kind of argument and will take pain into his body like it is simply another weight to lift, over and over. But this? This clearly costs him somewhere, letting himself want something in a place where wanting can be answered or refused.

His mouth pulls into a grim line. He looks, frankly, like he’d rather be stabbed than continue this conversation but Luffy also knows that once Zoro’s committed then he’s in. “You look good,” he says, rougher this time. “That’s three.”

Sanji doesn’t move. The dusk deepens around him, the firefly light turning his stunned stillness into something almost holy and unbearably human.

“Oh!” Luffy whispers behind the leaves, eyes wide and sparking. Law’s hand clamps tighter over his mouth and Luffy holds himself very still, trembling with the force of not jumping from sheer glee.

In the clearing, Sanji visibly swallows. “You can’t just say shit like that with your stupid swords and your stupid face and just… you’re supposed to call me a shitty cook and ruin the whole moment.”

Zoro’s mouth curves, barely, even as he stands slowly, kindling forgotten. “Fine, you’re a shitty cook. You still look good.”

That does it: Sanji crosses the space between them, hands fisting in the front of Zoro’s shirt to pull him into a kiss. He kisses Zoro like he’s trying to win an argument and survive it all at the same time, fierce and precise and furious, and Zoro kisses back like patience has finally worn through to hunger. Sanji makes a muffled sound against Zoro’s mouth and Zoro huffs something almost like a laugh before catching him by the waist and steadying him. It becomes something warmer and slower, a wonder so naked it makes Luffy’s heart feel too big for his chest.

Zoro’s grip at the other man’s waist goes careful and grounding, thumb pressing once into Sanji’s side, like a small steady answer. They break apart only a few centimetres, Sanji’s forehead resting against Zoro’s. He looks dazed and bright, mouth redder than before. “You’re so bad at this.”

Zoro’s smile is real, so fucking real. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Sanji laughs and kisses him again and, honestly, not cheering at the top of his lungs is one of the hardest fucking things Luffy’s ever done, actually, which is saying something considering he’s fought emperors and sea monsters and Nami. Unfortunately, though, Law still has one hand wrenched into the back of his vest and the other hovering near his mouth like he’s prepared to physically silence him again if necessary. Also, Sanji and Zoro are still in the clearing, wrapped up in each other in the bluish gold dark and even Luffy understands that some victories are loud only later.

His chest is so full it almost hurts.

He made the path, he did. He asked the questions and listened to the answers and dragged the right people to the right cliff and left the right amount of snacks and invented a dangerous bird situation with very little planning. And now Zoro and Sanji— his Zoro and his Sanji, who trust each other with blood and blades and still somehow needed help trusting each other with softness — are standing under the first stars, kissing like the world finally, finally makes sense to them.

Beside him, Law exhales through his nose. “Now we leave before your cook notices us and attempts murder.”

Luffy nods very seriously. “But they’re still kissing.”

“Which is exactly why we need to leave, because the kissing won’t stay kissing at this rate.”

Luffy considers this and figures it makes sense, probably. He lets Law tug him backward through the brush, though he keeps his neck stretched as far as possible until the last sliver of the clearing disappears behind leaves. He catches one final glimpse of Zoro pulling Sanji’s shirt off and is so damn delighted about it he makes a noise only dogs and Chopper might hear.

They slink down the narrow cliff path, half crouched at first, even when there’s no longer any reason to crouch. Luffy does it because sneaking’s fun sometimes and Law does it for three steps before straightening with as much dignity as possible, brushing leaves from his coat. The trail falls away from the other two, cutting through fern and moss and stone still warm from the day. The fireflies flash between the trunks, caught in the dark like little lanterns Luffy wants to scoop.

Instead, he walks with his arms flung behind his head, sandals scuffing stone, humming under his breath.

Zoro and Sanji are together. Or almost together? Or kissing, at least, which is close enough to together that Luffy’s gonna count it unless Nami says there are legal forms. The island is beautiful, the plan worked and Law is here and that part makes Luffy happy too. “Thanks for coming, Traffy.”

Law’s mouth tightens but the corner of it almost moves into a smile. “For coming to watch you manufacture an emotional wilderness exercise?”

Luffy laughs, bright and open, and the sound goes skipping down the trail ahead of them. Law winces like laughter is something that can attract predators and, hell, maybe it can but Luffy’s always thought predators are more interesting when they come over themselves. The happiness has nowhere to go, so it fills all of him: his chest, his arms, his knees, the soles of his feet slapping against the path. He bumps his shoulder into Law’s arm, careless and affectionate. “For coming to help.”

Law looks like he wants to be annoyed and he is annoyed, probably. Annoyance sits on him naturally, like his hat or his coat or the dark circles under his eyes, but Luffy also knows by now that Law’s annoyance has layers. Some of it is real and some of it’s just habit, but some of it is a blanket he throws over anything warm before anyone else can see it. Sometimes there’s something tired and folded carefully away there, a map Law doesn’t want anyone else reading because it shows where all the soft places are buried.

The cove appears through a break in the trees ahead and the sight of it makes Luffy’s whole body soften. The Sunny’s glowing, round and beloved and ridiculous, frankly, against the darkening water. Her lion figurehead catches the last scraps of sunset and grins out toward the sea like she knows a secret. Beside her, the Tang rests pale and quiet in the tide, lanterns low along her hull, less like a ship than something that surfaced from a dream. Both vessels rock gently in the evening water, side-by-side, as voices drift up from the beach in faint, broken threads.

Luffy breathes in the awareness of his people. His crew below, his swordsman and cook above, Law beside him and his heart feels stretched wide enough to cover the whole damn island. He doesn’t even notice Law stop walking until he realises the space beside him has gone empty. He turns back, blinking. “Traffy?”

Law stands in the middle of the path, half in shadow and half in the last shreds of light filtering through the leaves. He almost looks carved out of the hour itself: dark coat, pale skin, the brim of his hat cutting his eyes into something difficult to read. His face is turned slightly away. “Earlier, when you… when you asked about partners.”

“Oh!” Luffy brightens at once. “That worked, too! Sanji said competence but he meant Zoro. And Zoro said someone who keeps up but he meant Sanji. And you said someone who comes back and that was good, too.”

Law’s jaw shifts. “Yes, that.”

Luffy waits; he’s getting better at waiting for Law. It’s definitely not a perfected skill, but it’s better and that has to count for something. He knows Law’s words come slowly when they matter. They have to climb over too many bones. Finally, Law asks: “Have you ever thought about it?”

Luffy tilts his head. “About what?”

“What you would want.” His eyes come back to Luffy’s face then, sharp and unreadable beneath the shadow of his hat. “In a partner. In a… partnership.”

Luffy blinks. The truth is, he’s thought about lots of things. He’s thought about meat and the sea and adventure. He’s thought about being Pirate King and helping his crew’s dreams. He’s thought about whether clouds taste like anything and whether beetles know how cool they are and how to punch things bigger than him. How to keep his friends smiling. How the One Piece might feel under his hands when he finally finds it.

He hasn’t thought much about being with someone, not like Sanji and Zoro, with kissing under stars and hands at waists and quiet, burning attention. Not like that. Luffy loves easily and completely. He loves with his teeth and his fists and his whole rubber heart; he’s never had much use for sorting love into separate boxes. Crew, friend, ally, brother, mine. Those words matter but they overlap in him like waves, all part of the same endless sea.

“I dunno,” he admits, honest and Law’s expression tightens, the tiniest amount. This time, though, Luffy sees it: the carefulness around Law’s mouth and the way his shoulders go still. The small, almost invisible way he prepares himself, like he’s asked the question while already bracing for the answer to hurt. Law’s clearly thought about this. Law’s clearly thought about it a lot. “Oh. You wanna know for real.”

Law’s mouth presses thin. “I asked, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Luffy frowns. Then, because the truth is suddenly standing right in front of him, shy and sharp and wearing Law’s face, he adds: “But it matters to you.”

Law looks away, jaw clenched and Luffy can’t help but think about what Law said earlier, about someone who sees the worst possible outcome and stays anyway and someone who doesn’t confuse fear with weakness and someone who comes back. About how he’d said he always comes back, because it was true, but Law had looked at him like the truth was a wound.

“Traffy,” Luffy says quietly, and steps a little closer.

He can be careful when he wants to; his crew has taught him that too. Nami with her maps and scars, Robin with her silences, Chopper with his small hands. Sanji with food set down gently in front of someone who needs it and Zoro with wounds he lets Chopper touch because trust is sometimes staying still.

Luffy can do careful.

For Law, Luffy can do real fucking careful.

“I never thought about it much. Being with somebody.” Law’s face doesn’t change, but something in him goes quieter. Luffy continues, because once he finds the truth, saying it is easy. “I’m gonna be Pirate King and I’ve got my crew and there’s always stuff happening. Islands and fights and food and people crying and bad guys needing punching, so… I didn’t think about… dating?”

Law’s voice is low. “I see.”

“But.” Luffy scratches his cheek, thinking hard. His thoughts are rarely tidy things, is the problem. They don’t line up in neat rows the way Nami’s do; they move like waves and beasts and hunger, crashing into each other and running ahead and doubling back. He makes himself think very carefully about what he wants to say here. “If I did, I’d want someone strong.”

Law still doesn’t look at him. “Of course.”

“Not just fighting strong.” Luffy taps his own chest. “Here, too. Someone who says no to me but still comes with me. Someone smart but not boring-smart. Interesting-smart? Someone who knows things about birds and bodies and islands and plans and gets mad if I don’t always listen… but helps anyway.”

Luffy sees Law’s expression shift like dawn starting.

“Someone who cares about their crew,” he continues, quiet but firm. “A lot. Even when they act like they don’t. Someone who looks scary but is nice to bears.”

Law closes his eyes. “Bepo is not —”

“Someone who saved me,” Luffy cuts in, feeling the air between them shift in a way he’s only heard about in stories. He looks at Law and realises, with a warm, simple wonder, that he’s not describing a made up person. He’s describing a person who came when Luffy called even though he thought it might hurt, who complains and stays and sees the worst possible outcome, calculating every terrible angle of it, and stands there anyway.

“Oh,” Luffy says again. He knows wanting. He knows hunger and the shape of someone reaching without moving their hands. “You want to be with me.”

Law’s fingers flex once at his side. He looks at Luffy for a long moment before he says, very quietly: “Yes.”

Luffy feels something bloom in his chest, surprise at first, followed by warmth and a pleased, curling excitement that feels a little like seeing an island on the horizon and knowing there’ll be something wonderful there. He grins, slow and bright. “Oh,” he says, for the third time, because sometimes the first two are just practice. “That’s… good.”

Law’s face does something truly complicated. “You understand what I mean?”

Luffy steps closer again. “Yeah.”

Law studies him, searching for something, maybe doubt or confusion or even the wrong kind of ease. Luffy lets him look because it seems important: Law trusts hard evidence only, so Luffy gives him his face and his smile and his stillness, as much honesty as he can fit into one body.

“I don’t know all the rules,” he admits. “About… dating.”

Law lets out a breath that’s nearly a laugh. “That much was clear.”

Luffy’s hand curls around Law’s sleeve first, familiar fabric under his fingers. He tugs, gentle instead of demanding, and rises onto his toes, watching the way Law leans into him before Luffy has to pull any harder. That makes Luffy’s grin soften, even as he presses a kiss to Law’s cheek.

Law looks at him like his entire world’s been rearranged. “Oh. That was…”

“You want another one?” Law’s ears go very slightly pink and Luffy’s eyes widen with delight. “You do!”

“Lower your voice.”

“You do!”

“Straw Hat.”

Luffy grins up at him. “Luffy.”

The jungle seems to hush for a second. Law looks at him, and this time whatever he feels doesn’t disappear fast enough to hide. It stays there in his eyes, startled and raw and almost unbearably fond. “Fine. Luffy.”

It sounds different when he says it, careful and rough, like a word he’s wanted but not let himself touch until now.

Luffy laughs and grabs his hand, pulling him in the direction of their ships because now there’s even more to celebrate and Nami definitely needs to know at least one of his plans worked. Law lets himself be pulled. After a few steps, his fingers shift in Luffy’s grip, settling properly and Luffy’s grin feels enormous.

Behind them, high on the cliff, Sanji and Zoro’s fire begins to glow through the trees like a small, stubborn star. Ahead, the ships wait in the cove, full of light and noise and people Luffy loves.

x

anon: asks for zosan

me: ok but how about lulaw sjdfk sorry beloved i simply cannot control my brain

also fun fact i wrote a zolaw fic for someone where i made law a bird expert and now he's just...... always a bird expert to me