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Slow and soft, warm and deliberate, always quiet and breathy and full of this overwhelming sort of intimacy — the way Law always touched him made him feel like he was somewhere he was supposed to be, like he was somewhere he belonged, like he was loved, loved so deeply and intensely, and it was anything Luffy could ever ask for.
“You’re everything,” Law would whisper, hands all over him, pulling him so close, and Luffy would nod against him, under him.
Law was gentle, usually, and he was in love with every inch of him, and he was perfect, actually.
He was kind of a jerk sometimes. But Luffy liked it. He liked when Law would have snide comments for anyone trying to get too close, how he would throw up these big steel walls anytime someone got a little too comfortable with him — everyone got shut out except Luffy. And he liked that.
Law was his.
And yet, instead of that, Luffy would say, “I’m yours, I’m all yours, just you,” when they were up into the dead of night, sweating and rocking together with Law’s arms hooked behind each of his knees, holding his legs up against his chest and looking down at him with this expression on his face that made Luffy shudder.
Law would take him out in his nice car, bark at him to put on his seatbelt, buy him fancy meals and top shelf liquor, and Luffy would grin through the entire thing, because he’d never been treated like that. And it was nice.
And after their dates that they went on, they’d go back to the apartment they’d been living in together for the past year, and they’d fuck in their king-size bed and fall asleep naked and holding each other, and it was perfect.
Luffy was something special, something unique to Law, and he soaked that feeling in like a sponge.
And then, one night, Law took Luffy to this ritzy vodka bar connected to a ritzier hotel downtown, and it was full of lots of fancy-looking people who looked like they all had personal trainers and schedules full of meetings and lunchtime golf games at country clubs, and there was a woman playing cocktail-type music at a baby grand piano, and actually, that place was really cool.
For a second, Luffy thought about how he was glad Law dressed him up in something nice, because normally, he wouldn’t have fit in somewhere like that at all. But Law liked these kinds of places.
Luffy’s attention, however, refocused almost as soon as he sat down.
“What can I get you gentlemen.”
A bartender in a white collared shirt and a black waistcoat and tie approached with this super-casual air about him, and maybe it was his shaggy appearance mixed with his nicely pressed clothes, or it was the sandpaper sound in his voice, but he made Luffy’s thoughts slow to a stop by the time they made eye contact.
Law glanced over the menu written in cursive that didn’t have any prices listed anywhere, and the bartender watched him, his face blank while he dried a glass with a black cloth.
Jeez, not even bar rags anywhere in that place.
The bartender waited the ten seconds it took Law to order something with a weird name off the menu, and by the time his blue eyes shifted to Luffy, locking on him again, he was finished cleaning his glass, reaching up to hang it on the display rack above them, and Luffy forgot to pick a drink because he was staring at the bartender’s exposed wrists that slipped out past his cuffs when he stretched upwards.
“So?” the bartender asked, and Luffy was kind of surprised by how blunt he was. Borderline rude.
“Uh — sorry. What do you recommend?” Luffy fumbled for the words because he really didn’t know what the hell to do in places like that.
He could hear Law kind of snort next to him, and he glanced over at him to give him a little bit of a glare. Law looked amused, if nothing else.
“Whatever I make is good. You want me to just make you something?” the bartender asked, and god, he really didn’t match the scenery. His light hair was in his face, his chin was scruffy and needed a shave, his ears were stretched, and his posture was too relaxed.
“Uh. Sure?”
“Coming right up, gentlemen.”
Once the bartender was at the other end of the bar with a cocktail shaker in his hands, Law said in his low and kind of quiet voice, “How’d he get employed here?”
“I know!” Luffy said, way louder, turning to Law.
Law smiled, and Luffy loved it when he did that.
When the bartender returned, he placed these little square napkin things on the bar, and he put each of their drinks directly on the center of them, and he took a step back.
When Luffy tried his drink, his eyebrows kind of shot up.
“Oh, that’s how he’s employed here,” Law said, still kind of quietly, looking impressed at the drink in his hand. And the bartender laughed.
“Thanks, prick.”
Law looked up at the bartender, who hadn’t walked as far away as either of them thought, and Luffy watched the stare-down before Law swallowed and said, “You’re welcome.”
Luffy laughed outright because holy shit.
Also, holy shit, he didn’t even like the taste of alcohol, but he was about to start chugging his drink from his fancy tall and skinny glass. Fuck the straw.
The bartender was smiling, though, eyes all on Law, and he said, “You better tip me well, at least.”
“I will.”
Luffy was trying not to snort into his drink while he inhaled it, and before the bartender could slip away, he ordered another.
As the night went on, they asked the bartender his name, which he said was Sanji, which Luffy kept forgetting until there was suddenly a lot of yelling, something like, “It’s fucking Sanji, goddamn, it’s not hard, you stupid mother fu—“ before getting drowned out by Luffy’s drunken laughter.
It was weird. The three of them got along, like, strangely well. Law didn’t like anybody except Luffy, but he’d definitely smiled at least a couple times and maybe even laughed once, which was kind of incredible.
And when they left late that night, Law was true to his word, and he tipped Sanji more than Luffy’d ever seen him tip anyone, actually. Well. Also, they’d rung up a pretty impressive tab for a single night out at a bar.
“That was way better than I thought it was gonna be,” Luffy said once they were in Law’s car and he was strapping on his seatbelt. “You okay to drive, by the way?”
“I am. Also, what, did you think you’d have a bad time?”
“Well. No, I just. It was better than I thought! That’s all.”
Law started his car with the push start. “I still can’t believe they employed that bartender at that nice of a place.”
Luffy grinned while they pulled out from where they’d parked in a gated lot. Law always paid for parking and the security that came with it.
“I liked him. Sanji. He was a good guy,” Luffy said, watching the street lights casting different shadows on his lap.
“I know you liked him,” Law said, and his voice was a little bit more serious that time.
“Didn’t you?”
Law drummed his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel as they pulled up to an empty red light intersection. “I didn’t dislike him.”
“Damn!”
“What?”
“You dislike everybody,” Luffy said, leaning forward in his seat a little so Law would look at him and see his smile.
“Not everybody.”
“I don’t count.”
“Yes, you do.” Law looked back at the road, and Luffy could only smile to himself at that.
That night, Law kissed him as soon as they were in the door, bending down and cupping his jaw, and it tasted like the fancy drinks Sanji made, and Luffy’s mind wandered a little.
Luffy and Law weren’t regulars anywhere, but they went back to that bar later that week, and Sanji was there again, and this time, it was almost like all three of them were friends meeting up again to hang out.
“Back again, gentlemen,” Sanji said with a little bit of a smile.
Law shrugged while they settled into their bar stools, music from the piano at the other side of the room filling all the space between them, and that was familiar, too.
“We like you,” Luffy replied with a grin, scooting his stool a little closer to Law’s.
“That’s a little generous,” Law muttered, and Sanji laughed at that.
His laugh sounded nice. Nicer than his regular voice, anyway.
That night, Law and Luffy both drank more than the first time, both of them staying until the bar was nearing closing time.
“Do a shot with us, Sanji,” Luffy kind of demanded, sitting on his knees on the black wooden and sleek barstool. It wobbled a little.
“I’m—“ Sanji started to say, but he actually clicked his mouth closed when Law raised a hand.
“Luffy says you should drink with us,” Law said, his cheeks kind of red. They got like that when he was drunk. And he must’ve been drunk, to insist on someone actually interacting with them. “You don’t have much of a choice.”
“Luffy, huh?” Sanji said, and his gaze fell on Luffy, who looked up at him. They were paused like that for just a second, maybe two, and then Sanji said, “Nice name.”
“Thank you,” Luffy smiled, and Sanji rolled his eyes and turned back to Law.
“So, Luffy makes the rules, does he?” Sanji was all cheeky smiles, and Law kind of looked away at that.
“Sure,” Law said, so damn quiet that Luffy almost didn’t hear him over the piano and the ritzy atmosphere.
Sanji heard him, though, apparently, and he said, “Well. If that’s the way things work. Guess I don’t have a very much of a damn choice, do I?”
Luffy grinned. “Deal with it. Three of those pancake shot things!”
“You drink too many of those,” Sanji responded, but he was already pulling down a few of the bigger shot glasses from the overhanging display. “Of course your favorite shot’s a pain in my ass to make.”
Even the shot glasses were fancy. And Sanji knew how to make these shots that tasted exactly like pancakes. You chased them with orange juice, and it was like drinking breakfast, and it was nuts.
“It’s your fault for being so good,” Luffy shrugged, and then he leaned up against Law, a lazy smile on his face.
And after they did their shots together, Sanji cleared the bar, and as he was putting away the used glasses, he said to Law, “So, his name’s Luffy. What’s yours?”
“My name?” Law asked, and Luffy laughed outright because, yeah, Law was totally drunk.
“Yeah. I’ve been calling you Platinum Plus in my head this whole time,” Sanji replied.
Luffy was already starting to lose it to a fit of giggles against his will, and Law took the words out of his mouth when he said, “Platinum Plus, what the fuck?”
Sanji nodded. “Yeah. Bank of America Platinum Plus.”
“You remember my credit card, but not my name,” Law said, leaning kind of heavy on the bar.
Sanji only shrugged and smiled.
“It’s Law. You can call me Law,” he said, reaching for his drink.
Luffy watched the way Sanji watched Law, and the way Law stared back at him, and Luffy pursed his lips together.
That night, after taking a cab home, Law and Luffy stumbled into their apartment, flipped on the lights, and Law’s reaction was immediate.
Always in the bedroom. Never anywhere else. Always with Luffy laid out flat on his back. So Law could see his face, he’d said. And it felt good, like it always did. And as Law slid into him, slow and controlled and deliberate, even though he was just as drunk as Luffy, his touches were full of love and that same intimacy and gentle control, like they always were. Always.
And as they sank into each other, between gasps and small groans, Luffy suddenly laughed, and Law paused.
“What the hell are you laughing at—“
“Sorry,” Luffy said, naked and sweaty and putting a hand over his face. “Just. He called you Platinum Plus.”
Law might’ve growled in response. Luffy wasn’t sure.
“Don’t think about him when we’re making love—“
“Law!” Luffy said suddenly, reaching up to cup his face with one hand, and he smiled. “It’s okay. You really are platinum plus. To me. Your dick is platinum plus.”
With his hair matted down and mussed up, Law rolled his eyes, and Luffy could maybe feel him fighting a smile when he leaned down to kiss him.
“Hey,” Luffy said, suddenly breathing a little harder again while Law traced his hand up his chest, “That was funny.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Law murmured, slipping his arms under the curve of Luffy’s back, pulling him closer.
Luffy would’ve responded, but his words failed him when Law rocked his hips forward just a little harder.
Luffy had never been in a real relationship before Law. Definitely not for an entire year, that was kind of insane, for Luffy. But Law loved him. Loved him a lot, and that was really great.
Loved him so much that he was always gentle. Always deliberate. Always. Everything was just. Always.
It was in the shower, alone and with the door locked, that Luffy thought about this.
Nothing was bad. Everything was really good, actually. His relationship with Law, the sex they had — all of it was good. Luffy really couldn’t complain about any of it. Except.
Except.
With his forehead pressed against the far shower wall and the steaming water hitting his back, Luffy wrapped a hand around himself, trying to do something about how hard he was over the thought of Sanji being the one to fuck him late into the night. Because that would’ve been something different.
He didn’t know how it came to this.
Law and Luffy had been going to that fancy bar kind of regularly a few times each week over the past month or two. Luffy had sort of mentally worked out Sanji’s schedule, and Law must’ve, too, because whenever they went, Sanji was almost always working. And they never stayed for very long when he wasn’t.
Luffy stroked himself slowly at first, squeezing hard, closing his eyes and giving in, thinking about Sanji being the one on top of him, kissing down his back, grabbing his hips, pushing him hard into the mattress, or the wall, or the kitchen counter, or wherever.
Sanji was crass, and he was a dick, and he wasn’t afraid of Law even a little, and Luffy bit his lip when he thought about the way Law and Sanji looked at each other sometimes when they thought he wouldn’t notice.
Sometimes, though, Sanji would look at him with the same sharp and lingering gaze, and Luffy moaned over that, as quietly as he could.
His thoughts blurred, fading into a mix of rough hands and demanding kisses and things like that, and Luffy rolled his head back, his fist closed hard around his cock, moving quicker than before, rougher, harder, and when his vision started to get hazy and white, he whispered Sanji’s name, just to see what it felt like on his tongue, and he came all over the floor of the shower a second later.
Law, being a surgeon, went out of town from time to time for shit like medical seminars and other bullshit Luffy didn’t care about. He was never gone for long — only a few days, usually, at most, but. That was plenty of time.
Luffy took a cab that night.
Standing outside of the ritzy bar connected to the ritzy hotel, Luffy folded his arms over his chest, not really giving a shit that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk and kind of getting right in the way of everyone trying to walk past.
“This is a bad idea,” Luffy said aloud, talking to himself, eyes on the giant glass doors that led inside to stupid decisions and stupider mistakes. He walked inside.
When he sat down at the bar, Sanji walked up after he was finished dealing with another patron, and he looked Luffy up and down.
“Where’s Law?”
“Who?”
Sanji’s eyebrows raised just a little. And he smiled, just a little, before responding, “Interesting.”
“So,” Luffy almost coughed, looking away for a second before returning his eyes to Sanji’s and saying, “Are you gonna make me a drink, or—“
“I can do that. I can do a lot more than that, really.”
“Good.”
Luffy stayed until the place closed down, until he was comfortably drunk, but not quite hammered, not quite enough to begin to excuse what he was still doing there, alone, flirting with the bartender and squirming in his seat because he fucking loved it.
“I’m parked out back,” was all Sanji said, super casual, like he was talking about the weather, and Luffy just nodded, because that was all he needed.
It didn’t really mean anything. Sanji could’ve been anyone, probably. He could’ve had anyone’s personality and looks, almost, and probably Luffy would’ve still wound up standing in the parking lot behind the hotel by himself with his phone turned on silent in his pocket.
He was busy telling that to himself, anyway, when Sanji walked out of the back door of the building and stuck a cigarette in his mouth — Luffy didn’t know he smoked, and it was kind of devastating — and the way he smiled when he spotted Luffy waiting for him was… Well. It didn’t mean anything.
“So,” Sanji said as he approached Luffy, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I—“ Luffy tripped up over that, suddenly not knowing what to say, but Sanji started walking towards the back of the parking lot, and Luffy followed.
“I mean, I know what you’re doing,” Sanji said around his cigarette, “I just wanted to. I don’t know. You sure?”
“Yeah,” Luffy answered immediately, realizing his hands were clenched in fists in his pockets.
When they approached what could only be the car they’d been heading towards, Sanji turned and leaned back against the hood, sitting on the edge of it. “I don’t smoke in my car, so—“
“That’s fine,” Luffy said, and he sat next to Sanji.
“So how long is he gone?” Sanji asked, like it was such an innocent question.
“Two more days.”
Sanji didn’t reply right away. Rather, he took another long drag of his cigarette, and Luffy watched him staring at the concrete when he finally said, “There’s a lot I want to say right now, but. I don’t think I should.”
Luffy frowned, because what the fuck. And then he scooted a little closer, until their shoulders were touching, and they sat in silence for a couple more seconds before Sanji turned Luffy’s chin towards him with the tip of his index finger and, holding his cigarette away from the both of them, he leaned in and kissed Luffy without any sort of hesitation or anything, and it was fucking perfect.
And the reaction, the feeling, the all-over wave of sparks and crackling heat that washed over him — all of that almost made him start shaking, and it was intense as hell.
Sanji felt so different, and it was immediate — the way his hands went to Luffy’s chest, fingers curling around the fabric of the front of his shirt, leaning forward harder, pressing their mouths together more — and it wasn’t love or anything like that, but it was passion, and it was intensity, it was want, all of it communicated with his lips alone, and it was everything Luffy needed. Immediately.
They pulled away, just inches, maybe centimeters, and Sanji turned his head to take one last drag of his cigarette before pitching it away, and Luffy’s eyes, and his brain, and his hands were all on him.
They moved like they’d done this before. Or, at least, like they’d been meaning to for a long time.
Sanji was all in, open access, leaning back a little, and Luffy pulled his white shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers, leaning forward to push his hands up inside of it, beneath the form-fitting waistcoat and everything, and Sanji’s stomach was tense, and Luffy could feel hard muscles tightening under his fingers, and with a suppressed moan, he was climbing onto Sanji’s lap while he started to lean back onto the hood of the car, their foreheads pressed together, mouths open and breathing hard while Luffy squeezed around his waist.
Sanji’s hands were all over him, sliding from the small of his back to his ass, gripping and squeezing hard, pulling him up a little, rocking Luffy’s body against his own, and Luffy arched into it from on top of him, groaning so quietly, trying to tell Sanji more, he wanted that, and he wanted more, and Sanji all but replied with, “You got it.”
With a bit of a grunt, Sanji sat up suddenly, and then he stood up, Luffy’s ass still held firm in his grip, and Luffy wrapped his legs around a thin and lean waist, and he clung tight while Sanji turned and laid him out across the hood of his car.
Luffy could hear the sound of the hood shifting and maybe denting a bit, and he had enough mind to say, “Hey, your car—“
“My car’s a piece of shit, if you haven’t noticed,” Sanji replied, already breathless, yanking Luffy’s shirt up and pressing his mouth hot against his stomach.
Sanji bit against the skin on Luffy’s stomach, down by where his hip bone stuck out a little, and that was new, nobody had ever bitten him before, and shit, Luffy liked that a lot.
“Can you be rough,” Luffy said after a second of Sanji licking and biting and doing all these things that were making him squirm and clap a hand over his mouth.
“I sure can,” Sanji returned, not even bothering to look up, unzipping the fly on Luffy’s pants.
“You don’t have to worry about hurting me,” Luffy said, quietly.
And then Sanji did glance up, and he said with direct eye contact, “Do I seem worried to you.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Sanji was yanking his pants down just to his thighs, and Luffy was lifting his hips up to let him, his eyes sliding closed, cool night breeze on his face — and then his eyes snapped open, because Sanji was kissing against his erection through his briefs, and Luffy suddenly remembered that they were outside, and very much in public view.
“Hey—“ Luffy said, sitting up a little, his hand going to the top of Sanji’s head.
Sanji was leaned over him, bent at the waist, hands on his thighs while he said, “Mm,” in response, and nothing else.
“We’re — this is —“ Luffy was trying to say, but Sanji was inching down his underwear, and Luffy wasn’t going to stop him.
And Sanji wasn’t worried about a fucking thing, apparently, because he pulled Luffy’s dick from his briefs, taking it into his mouth like he was starving for it, and Luffy threw his head back and groaned, kind of loud and totally forgetting himself.
His hands went to Sanji’s head, grabbing for his hair, curling over him and sucking his own bottom lip into his mouth because he was suddenly having a very hard time keeping quiet. Sanji reached up with one hand, put it on top of Luffy’s, curling around his fist, and then he pulled on Luffy’s hand — pulled at his own hair — and Luffy got the point pretty quick.
Luffy yanked on blond hair, almost pulling him off his dick, but not quite, because Sanji was fucking enthusiastic. He slid his tongue out over his bottom lip while he sucked and bobbed, and it was messy and unabashed and needy as hell, the way he closed his eyes and hummed on Luffy’s cock, and, fuck, this was—
“You, hey, Sanji, you—“
“Mm-hmm.”
Luffy’s brain was screaming at him, telling him — insisting — that they were in public, and he was on the hood of a car in a well-lit parking lot, and—
“We’re gonna get fucking arrested,” Luffy breathed, his eyelids fluttering, rolling his hips up just a little when Sanji dipped further down.
So slowly, his lips hollowed, his eyes bouncing up to Luffy’s face, Sanji pulled away from him, his lips so wet, breathing hard, and then he stood a little straighter and leaned over Luffy and gathered him up and picked him up off the hood of the car.
“Yeah, you’re right, okay, hold on,” he was saying while he carried Luffy around to the driver’s side of the car, shifting his weight and opening the door, supporting all of Luffy’s weight between his left arm and his hip, kissing and sucking at his neck, and Luffy could only gasp when he bit down on the sensitive skin there.
Sanji climbed into the back seat of his car, Luffy still clinging hard to him, rubbing himself up against his stomach, hard and throbbing and, shit, there was so much pressure, and he needed more friction, needed so much more, and Sanji was giving him goddamn everything.
The back door was still open, and Sanji had to be halfway outside of the car, but it didn’t matter, it was good enough, it was fine, because with the way Sanji was sucking him off, Luffy sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him to stop and wait until they were somewhere more private.
It only added to it all — the risk, the potential exposure, and the way all that didn’t really matter in that moment.
“Fuck,” Luffy gasped, bucked up into Sanji’s mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, and he tried to keep his voice steady as he said, “I’m gonna — Ah, Sanji, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—“
“Fucking come, then,” Sanji said in response, pulling away just barely enough to speak those few words before dipping back down, sucking hard and groping Luffy all over.
And Luffy came hard, almost shouting, pulling on Sanji’s hair with both hands, his hips lifting off the cracked leather seats while he dug his heels in.
They were both breathing really heavily when Sanji withdrew, and then he stood up in the parking lot next to the car, turned and leaned back against the side of it, and Luffy could see him pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Fuck. Fuck, that was — that was so —
“Sanji,” Luffy raised his voice loud enough for Sanji to hear, still kind of panting. “Hey—“
“Sorry, my fucking back, I had to stand up straight for a minute,” Sanji started saying while he turned and leaned over, his eyes finding Luffy’s in the dark backseat of the car.
Still sprawled out with his pants around his thighs, Luffy grinned a little. “Thanks.”
“Uh-huh. Hold on. Cigarette,” he said, still a little out of breath. His lips looked swollen, and his cheeks were red, and his hair was all fucked up, and he looked. Really good.
After maybe a minute of recovering, Luffy climbed out of the car, and he stood next to Sanji while he smoked.
“So,” Sanji said into the silence between them, “Is that all you wanted?”
Luffy kept looking forward, staring across the parking lot, Sanji’s presence next to him pressing in around him. He didn’t say anything.
And after a few seconds of that, Sanji ashed his cigarette into the breeze, and he said, “Your place or mine?”
“Yours.”
Sanji’s apartment was pretty modest, and he lived alone, and it was all very him, somehow, with all the plants and the way it smelled like he’d had something in the slow-cooker all day, and somehow, Luffy, against his will, felt very much at home there.
They fucked on Sanji’s couch, and over his kitchen table, and all over, and it was so fucking perfect.
Sanji was not gentle at all. He was rough, a little demanding, and he treated Luffy like he was using him, which was exactly what Luffy wanted. And Sanji seemed to really get that.
It wasn’t quick — Sanji took his damn time, not above teasing Luffy until he was whimpering and squirming before he’d turn him over and burry himself deep, fuck him until Luffy was grabbing for anything to hold onto and shouting into his forearm, biting down and trying to hold it in as much as he could.
Up against the wall of his hallway, Luffy stood on the tips of his toes, his cheek pressed into the plywood, and Sanji held onto his hips so damn tight while he bit down on the back of his neck, and the sound of both of them groaning that mixed with the sound of the contact of their skin made Luffy’s eyes roll back into his head a little.
“God, harder,” Luffy moaned out, reaching back, grabbing for Sanji’s hair again, letting his head fall back and rest against Sanji’s bony shoulder.
“Say please,” was Sanji’s response, breathy and by his ear and covered in sweat and laced with an intense need that wasn’t fading even a little. “Beg me.”
And Luffy did say please. And he begged Sanji to fuck him harder, to bite harder, to grab and squeeze and do everything harder, and more, and absolutely nothing felt like it was too much. It was exactly right.
It was bent over his mattress, over a bed much smaller than his own, that Luffy’s body started to shake, down in his thighs, and he could feel this tightening in his stomach, jolts of warm and tickling pleasure running from his ass to his cock to his legs and his chest, and it felt incredible, the way Sanji leaned over him and shoved his face into the sheets. It was so damn intense, and it was loud, like Sanji didn’t give a flying fuck about his neighbors, and Luffy loved that, too.
This was what he wanted. He wanted every single part of this, and when he whispered, “Please, please, please,” like he was stuck on repeat on his hands and knees, Sanji grabbed him and pulled him a little closer, pushed his legs apart further, shoved his shoulders down and arranged him how he wanted him, running his long fingers around the curve of his ass, and he smacked him hard, so hard that it burned, and he slid his hands around to Luffy’s hips, and it was then, right about then, there was this moment of completely letting go, going limp, his muscles giving out all at once and his mouth falling open while Sanji fucked the hell out of him.
When Sanji pushed Luffy away, there was a pause and a gasping for breath before they moved together again, with Sanji pushing Luffy onto his back, and Luffy’s entire body felt so loose and relaxed and open and incredible, he could only groan and babble and reach upwards. Sanji grabbed his wrist, and he kissed his knuckles while he spread his legs out again, looking down at him in the dark through his damp hair.
Luffy’s chest felt so full in the best way, and his body felt so worked open and exposed, covered in sweat, messy and comfortable and perfect, and when his eyes focused after a second of feeling Sanji’s lips on his fingers, their gaze connected, and god, it felt like they were so fucking undevided.
Sanji reached for his cock, and Luffy grabbed his hand, pulling it away because, Jesus, it was too much, it was too intense, his hips jolting and bucking up beyond his will, so he sucked on Sanji’s fingers instead, his teeth exposed and biting down when he grinned after hearing Sanji whisper, “Damn, damn.”
When they came, it was together, working each other up and whispering that they were getting close, that they were going to lose it, and Luffy shouted while Sanji got really quiet and grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut really hard, pulling away from Luffy and yanking off his condom and jerking himself over his edge, coming all over his hand while Luffy watched, coming all over his own stomach with the sheets clenched tight in his fists.
It was weird, the way all this emotion suddenly bloomed inside of him, watching Sanji sit back and trying to catch his breath, not looking at him, and it wasn’t like Luffy was going to cry or anything, but the feeling was similar.
And Luffy knew it wasn’t what somebody was really supposed to do with a one-night stand, but he and Sanji laid next to each other on his bed, sharing a pillow and staring up at the ceiling while Sanji smoked and Luffy threaded his fingers into Sanji’s free hand. Sanji squeezed his hand back, just a little.
“Was that good? You alright?” Sanji asked into the quiet space around them.
“It was perfect,” Luffy whispered back, and at that, Sanji turned and kind of curled himself around Luffy, throwing an arm over him and making sure to keep his lit cigarette out of his face, and, fuck, that felt really goddamn good, too.
Everything Sanji did was so different, but. This part — the way Sanji held him like they’d always fit together just like that, blowing smoke away from him and pressing his face into Luffy’s neck… the thing Luffy felt deep in his chest, warm and content — there was something about it that reminded him of Law.
When Luffy finally managed to open his eyes in the morning, he squinted into a room that was totally unfamiliar and foreign and bright as hell, where the fuck were the curtains for those windows—
And then it all came back to him, he relived all of it, and he stopped thinking about it almost immediately.
He stretched his arms out and realized he was alone.
He was pretty sure it was supposed to work the other way around, but. Well, whatever.
When he finally dragged himself out of bed and pissed and gave up on trying to find his clothes because they were probably all still out in the living room anyway, he walked out into the main area of Sanji’s apartment and paused, because Sanji was actually still there, and he was cooking fucking breakfast.
“Ugh, you cook, too?” Luffy asked, spotting his underwear over the arm of the couch.
Sanji looked over his shoulder, cigarette in his mouth, and he smiled a little, looking so damn exhausted. “Prepare for devastation.”
“God damn it,” Luffy sighed, pulling on his briefs and hunting for his pants. He gave up pretty quickly.
Yeah. Yeah, god damn it, Sanji was a really good cook on top of everything, and Luffy wanted to melt into the floor and dissolve slowly.
Sitting together at the kitchen table, the sound of silverware clinking and rattling against his brain, Luffy suddenly broke the silence when he said, “I’m still super in love with Law.”
Sanji nodded like that was a totally normal thing to say, like he knew that already, chugging orange juice and stabbing his french toast.
“Does that make me a super huge asshole or—“
“Oh, definitely.”
“Well, fuck!”
Sanji snorted and took a bite of his eggs. “I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it too bad.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of a total prick, too. For all this.”
“Absolutely, yes.”
After Luffy found the rest of his clothes, Sanji drove him back to the apartment he shared with Law, and they didn’t say much in the ways of goodbyes, but just before he got out of the car, he stopped, and he looked over.
“Can I have your number?” he asked, and Sanji looked at his lap for a second before nodding and grabbing Luffy’s phone out of his hand.
Luffy told himself that he wasn’t going to call Sanji, but that was a fucking lie, and he was back at his apartment the next night because Law didn’t get home until the next day.
When Law did come back, though, Luffy was there waiting for him, and he kind of forgot all about Sanji because, he remembered, Law was perfect.
Things fell back into their old routine, and nothing changed. Everything was the same. But even though it was always the same, it was something Luffy loved so fucking much, so bad it hurt when he thought about it, and he wanted to talk about it, about everything, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fucking do it.
They went to Sanji’s bar still, just as frequently, and it was weird because everything felt just as comfortable and great and fun as it always did. The three of them got along, and Sanji didn’t treat either one of them differently. Rather, his smile was always genuine when it was directed at either of them, even when he scowled at just about everyone else when they weren’t looking most of the time.
“What’re we going to do with you, Sanji,” Law said one night, drunker than usual, when the bar was nearly empty and the piano player had already gone home. And Sanji hadn’t smiled at that. He actually hadn’t said anything in response at all.
Life continued and the world kept spinning. Months passed and Law went out of town every once in a while. And whenever he did, Luffy would always wind up calling Sanji, and over time, things somehow faded from Luffy meeting him at the bar to just meeting him at his apartment when his shift was over, and leaving in the morning would sometimes turn into leaving a couple hours before Law’s flight got in.
He always went back to Law, though. Because he loved him. He loved Law more than he loved anything in the world, and he wanted to stay with him forever, and somewhere along the line, Sanji just became part of that equation.
It was twisted, how, in a way, without Sanji, Luffy probably couldn’t really love Law as intensely as he did.
The situation became normal. So normal that Luffy got really used to being around Sanji outside of his bar. They went places together, sometimes. Kind of like dates, but not quite. He couldn’t lie about it — Sanji really mattered to him. And it felt like Sanji really mattered to Law, too.
“You wanna see the inside?” Luffy asked when Sanji was dropping him off at home one afternoon.
“I feel like that’s. Unwise.”
“C’mon. He’s in D.C. or something — he won’t be back until tomorrow. Come see my place, c’mon!”
And Sanji really fit in, somehow, in their big and fancy apartment that Law mostly paid for entirely.
Luffy worked, but he made so much less than Law, and he kept his job out of principle, honestly, because Law kept telling him how he could just quit if he wanted. He ended up working part time, eventually. And sometimes, he’d stop by the bar when he got off his shift just to say hi and have a shot before heading home.
It just felt so normal. It felt right, in a really terrible way.
He was fucked.
“Hey,” Luffy laughed while he sat on the marble kitchen counter, hooking his ankles around the small of Sanji’s back. “The Kill Bill movies were, like. They’re classics. You’re an idiot.”
Sanji leaned around him, stirring the contents of the soup he was making with a big wooden spoon.
“Quentin Tarantino can suck my dick,” he replied, bringing the wooden spoon up to Luffy’s mouth and holding it there. “Taste this. Tell me your thoughts.”
“I’m just gonna say it’s really good,” Luffy said, leaning forward to sip at it.
“Try for actual critique. I believe in you. You can do this.”
Luffy closed his eyes and thought about it because, damn it, Sanji really was just a fantastic cook, and Luffy couldn’t ever figure out how to make it any better, even when Sanji insisted there had to be something he could add or subtract.
“Uh.” Luffy paused, licking his lips. “More salt? Or. Sugar? Ginger? Paprika?”
“You’re just naming random shit.”
“Pepper?”
“Well.” Sanji paused and looked at his soup. “Alright.”
Luffy had called Sanji over to his apartment because he was starving, and he had ingredients, but shit if he knew how to combine them into something really tasty the way Sanji did. This was kind of normal, actually. Sanji knew his way around the kitchen by then.
“You didn’t even like Pulp Fiction?” Luffy wondered while Sanji twirled the wooden spoon between his fingers.
“Overrated. Bruce Willis looks like a walking penis. Wasn’t into it.”
“What about Reservoir Dogs?”
“Hated it.”
“What’s wrong with you!” Luffy started laughing all over again, smiling against Sanji’s lips while he kissed him, running his fingers up his chest to his throat.
“I’m sorry, I just have good taste, it’s not your fault,” Sanji replied, their mouths brushing, and he was smiling, and it was so nice because Luffy really loved seeing him smile like that.
“Hey, Sanji,” he said, and Sanji leaned forward to kiss at his neck, humming at him to keep talking. “If I looked like Bruce Willis, would you still fuck me?”
“Hell no,” Sanji replied against warm skin, and Luffy laughed all over again. “You couldn’t pay me.”
Luffy was still laughing when the sound of the front door opening reached his ears, and he didn’t even register it because it was the most normal sound in the world. Except, in that moment. It fucking wasn’t.
Sanji and Luffy kind of realized this at the same time, both of them freezing, and they turned their heads slowly to see Law standing in the door with a suitcase next to him, and the look on his face screamed holy fucking murder.
Murder. Looking at the way Luffy’s legs were wrapped around Sanji’s waist. Looking at Sanji’s hands cupping Luffy’s neck.
Looking right at Sanji.
Oh, holy shit.
Law was the first to move, and Sanji did a split-second after that.
The wooden spoon Sanji had been holding clattered to the ground, almost echoing in the apartment before there was a lot of cursing and yelling.
Law went after Sanji, and Sanji took off fucking running.
“Fuck you!”
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Sanji yelled, leaping over the couch, sprinting to the back hallway before turning and dashing in another direction. “Fuck, I wish you guys had a back door!”
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Law shouted after him, picking up a candle off the coffee table as he passed it and launching it at Sanji, who barely ducked out of the way.
“Shit! Don’t throw things!”
Law actually tackled Sanji to the ground once he caught up to him, cornered him behind the dining room table, his hands clenched in the tightest fists around the front of Sanji’s shirt. Luffy snapped out of his daze just as Law decked Sanji across the face.
“Hey, stop!” Luffy yelled, running over to them, his eyes wide, but Sanji was already kicking Law off him.
Luffy slid in behind Law, pulling him back, and Sanji was glaring at him and wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist while Law yelled, “How fucking could you, you son of a bitch, you fucking piece of shit—“
“Oh, fuck you!” Sanji shouted back suddenly, glaring at Law, pushing himself up to a sitting position and leaning back against the wall.
“I trusted you, I fucking cannot believe—“ Law started to say, but Sanji cut him off.
“Don’t give me that fucking shit, you goddamn hypocrite. You hypocrite.”
Luffy paused because Law paused. And he was confused for a second.
“What—“ Luffy started to say, but then Sanji was looking directly at him, and Law was pulling against his grip, and. What?
“Sanji, don’t,” Law began, but Sanji ignored him.
“Law’s been cheating on you, too,” Sanji said to Luffy, and suddenly, Luffy felt really goddamn lightheaded.
Things kind of got all fuzzy. Confusing. But not.
“He what?” Luffy asked faintly, and Law wrenched himself from Luffy’s hold.
“He’s been cheating on you, Luffy,” Sanji said, his voice flat.
“With who?” Luffy asked, his voice cracking, but he hardly realized it.
“Me, you fucking idiot,” Sanji replied.
“You?”
“Yes, me.” Sanji glanced at Law, who was staying silent. And he went on to say, “He slept with me before you ever did.”
Luffy looked at Law. And he couldn’t find his voice for a second. But with concentration, he managed to say, “Really?”
Law wouldn’t look at him.
“But,” Luffy mumbled, wringing his hands together a little, “I really fucking love you, Law.”
“I love you, too!” Law responded immediately, his voice suddenly loud, and his eyes were so intense, on him so quickly, Luffy could barely look at them.
“Then why did you fuck Sanji!”
“I should ask you the same fucking question,” Law growled, suddenly angry again, and it was just, it was all so—
“Hey,” Sanji said, and he pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to smoke inside, but sure as hell nobody was going to stop him, and he continued, “Both of you are fucked up assholes. And so am I.”
“You sure fucking are,” Law said, turning his glare onto Sanji.
Sanji lit his cigarette and took a long drag, and he sighed, and his voice was kind of quiet when he said, “I really wanted to tell you guys.”
Neither Law nor Luffy said anything. Because what the fuck could they say.
“I wanted to, but. How the fuck could I? It wasn’t my place, what the fuck was I—“
“You should’ve said something,” Law whispered, his posture getting worse.
They sat together, the three of them hunched over on the floor of the apartment, smelling burnt tobacco and the soup Sanji’d been making all afternoon.
Sanji was staring up at the ceiling with his head pressed back against the wall when he finally said, “Luffy, you want something different. But you still love Law. And Law, you still love Luffy. And you also have some deep, fucked up control issues.”
They didn’t respond. Not verbally, anyway. But the feeling in Luffy’s stomach got worse.
“Both of you are jealous fucks,” Sanji went on to say, his voice rough. “But both of you, like, fucking love me, so.”
Luffy and Law glanced at each other at the same exact time. And Luffy was pretty sure they were both experiencing that same stabbing feeling of god damn it, that’s completely true, isn’t it.
“I love the both of you, too,” Sanji added. And the silence in the room was heavy as it could’ve been.
“I don’t know what to do,” Law admitted after a few seconds, eyes on his own lap. And Luffy agreed with that a lot.
“I can leave,” Sanji took another long drag of his cigarette. “Or, we could all get piss drunk together and fight and fuck it out. You know. Couples therapy.”
Luffy actually laughed a little, because it was so ridiculous, so goddamn insane, his mind could barely keep up with the reality of the situation, but. But.
“And then we can eat the soup I’ve been working my ass off making all day,” Sanji finished, and he let all the air out of his lungs and looked at the both of them.
It was so fucked up. Luffy stared at Sanji, because it was so fucked up, everything he was saying, but what the fuck—
“Alright,” Law said, his voice so quiet. It sounded almost broken.
“Yeah?” Luffy asked, looking over at him.
“Yeah,” Law replied, and then he turned his eyes on Sanji. “Pour the drinks. You’re the bartender, aren’t you.”
It took a lot of alcohol to even begin to smooth things over. But. Law had a pretty impressive stock.
“I’m just saying, neither of you can really be that mad at me,” Sanji was explaining while they all sat around the dining table together, glasses of rum in front of them. Luffy didn’t know how they all decided rum was the correct choice in the matter, but that was how it was.
“I can totally be mad at you,” Luffy replied, taking another sip. “I do what I want.”
“No!” Sanji kind of yelled, leaning forward in his seat. “Because! Both of you came at me! I was an innocent bartender just trying to do my goddamn job—“
“How did you get that job, by the way,” Law asked, one eye closed, his face red. He held his glass with the tips of his fingers around the rim.
“Fucked the manager.”
“I fucking hate you,” Law replied, taking a long drink.
Sanji laughed, and he reached forward to clink his drink against Law’s while it was still against his mouth. Some of it spilled down Law’s chin, and Luffy snorted when he laughed and he didn’t even mean to.
“Fuck you,” Law added, wiping the liquor from his face.
“You can. I feel like you’d feel a lot better if you did,” Sanji replied with a lazy smile.
“Wait,” Luffy said, standing up so quickly that the legs of his chair scraped along the floor. “You bottomed with Law?”
Sanji shrugged. “Usually.”
“Usually?”
“Okay,” Sanji said, holding his hands up. “Listen, you — you can both fuck me. Both of you can fuck me right now, even, I don’t actually care.”
Luffy set his glass down on the table, and he folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe you’re cool with being on bottom and didn’t tell me—“
“Well, you’re kind of a little freak and love getting—“
“I’m not ready to hear this,” Law mumbled, and Sanji snorted.
“This is going to take so much work,” Luffy kind of groaned, looking at the both of them.
But when they both looked back, it felt. Well. It was strange. It felt right, both of them in that apartment together with him, siting next to each other and getting hammered and touching each other, looking at Luffy like a unit rather than two separate people.
“And alcohol, probably. Maybe drugs, I don’t know, I’ve never done drugs recreationally, but I feel like I should now,” Luffy said.
“Do you want me to find drugs—“
“No,” Luffy and Law said in unison.
“Okay. Because I can.”
“Why don’t you, uh,” Law said to him, taking another quick sip of his rum, “Why don’t you just go get naked and lay on the bed and wait for us.”
Damn, though, even the thought of that went straight down to Luffy’s cock.
“Really?” Sanji asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Really,” Luffy replied, and he looked at Law, who, strangely enough, smiled at him a little.
Liquor and good food and being in love kind of made just about everything forgivable. Well. Having Sanji spread out between them, sweating and naked and moaning their names really helped, too.
“Damn, you look so good,” Law said under his breath, and Luffy could only agree as he leaned over Sanji to kiss him.
They all fit together so fucking well, like they were already so comfortable and experienced with each other that doing everything together kind of made a lot of sense. At least, as far as their bodies were concerned.
Sanji responded to the both of them with equal want, the same kind of need for them both, groaning for them and letting them stretch him out and fold him over.
He was everything they needed.
“Fuck,” Luffy had whispered with Sanji’s nose pressed up against his pelvis and his cock down his throat.
“Fuck,” Law agreed, watching them, palming himself and reaching up to touch Sanji, to run his hand along his back and down his ass. “I hate that you’re so good at this.”
Luffy pulled on his hair because he already knew Sanji loved that, and in doing that, it gave way to more pulling and biting and moaning and all of that, and it was incredible, really, to see Law so unreserved, so needy and craving it — so different than what Luffy was used to. And he really fucking loved seeing him like that.
And, Luffy suspected, Law really loved seeing that side of Luffy that craved more, the way he thought only Sanji could give it to him.
Things were the same, almost. And they were really fucking different, all at once.
And it worked, actually.
Law and Luffy moved together, working together to unravel Sanji until his speech was all garbled, until he was begging them to fuck him, to let him come, to do so many things — and maybe neither one of them had really seen Sanji quite like this, either. And that was really fucking great, too.
When Sanji came, Law and Luffy were pretty quick to follow, and then it was just silence in the bedroom while they all laid sprawled out on the giant king-size bed.
“Don’t dump me yet,” Sanji groaned, rolling onto his stomach, breathing so heavily. “Not when you guys can do that.”
Luffy looked at Law. And, to his surprise, Law was sitting up and smiling down at Sanji.
“We probably won’t,” Law replied, running his hand over Sanji’s shoulder, and Luffy couldn’t lie to himself. He was starting to love watching the way Law touched him.
“This is weird,” Luffy said, and both Law and Sanji turned their heads to look at him with hazy and tired eyes. “But I love it? I, uh. I love both of you, I think.”
Law snorted, and he climbed over Sanji and wrapped himself around Luffy, and it felt great, feeling him agree.
“This is fucked up,” Sanji muttered against his pillow. And then he pushed himself up, rising so slowly, dragging himself away from Law and Luffy and the bed, headed for the pile of clothes they’d all left in the middle of the floor.
They watched him find his pack of cigarettes, and he did the awkward-walk out towards the balcony. Well. They were both pretty familiar with him needing to smoke as soon as he was done having sex.
Luffy waited until Sanji was a little further away, and he said real quietly, “It is fucked up, but. I love you, man. And I like him, too. Maybe I love him for real.”
“Me, too,” Law mumbled, scooting over closer and leaning harder on Luffy. “Strange how it feels better now. Uh, I mean — better than it did.”
“What feels better.”
“The whole situation. We could do this,” Law said, glancing over to where Sanji’d walked away.
“I’m down,” Luffy shrugged, flashing Law a smile.
“Well,” Law replied, bringing Luffy closer to him, “we’ll probably still be angry at each other when we’re, uh. You know. Sober…er. I mean. I mean less drunk?”
“You got this, Law,” Luffy whispered, cheering him on.
“Shut up. I mean, it won’t be smooth, but. I don’t know. We could try.”
Luffy grinned against Law’s shoulder, biting the tip of his tongue before he admitted, “I wanna try, at least.”
“Alright. Okay. We’ll do that.”