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01
The moment the captain’s quarters were pushed open, Law was in the middle of planning the most critical part of his strategy.
His tightly wound focus snapped, and the irritation built up from three sleepless nights flared up instantly. Law nearly turned his chair around in anger.
“I said to knock before entering my—”
The rest of his words died in his throat. His lips parted slightly before his voice came out, rough and delayed. “...What are you doing here, Zoro-ya?”
The green-haired swordsman standing at the door looked like he had just finished his daily training.
His upper body was bare, his honey-toned skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. The hair at his temples was damp, clinging softly to his skin. His mesmerizing crimson eyes, framed by slightly wet lashes and the faint redness at the corners, carried an unusual gentleness. His cheeks still held a lingering flush from exertion.
Law’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Suddenly, he remembered how, a few days ago, when he had been cleaning the dazed man in the bathroom, that handsome face had worn the same damp, almost intoxicated expression. The realization hit him—because he had been so consumed by his plans, he hadn’t laid a finger on Zoro in three whole days.
Just the thought alone sent a restless itch coiling low in his abdomen. He stood up, walked to the door, and leaned against the frame, looking down at Zoro.
Right now, the swordsman was standing barely a few fists away from him. The height difference forced Zoro to tilt his head up slightly, his bright, innocent gaze meeting Law’s. The angle made Law imagine this same man kneeling between his legs, his flushed face nuzzling against the fabric of his pants. His tongue flicked over his lips.
“Sorry, Torao, it’s just… where the hell is the bathroom?”
Zoro’s deep, magnetic voice snapped Law out of his thoughts. Only then did he notice the dry towel and change of clothes clutched in the swordsman’s hands.
No need to guess—this idiot had gotten lost in the submarine again. Was his excuse this time that the layout was too complicated or that the rooms kept moving around?
The corner of Law’s mouth twitched upward. “Zoro-ya, you’re truly a hopeless lost cause.”
No matter how many times he said it, it never got old. What was even more amusing, though, was the way Zoro’s ears instantly turned pink.
Law pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth. “There’s a bathroom in my room. Just shower here, Zoro-ya.”
02
Zoro was pretty sure he’d lost his damn mind.
His back pressed against the cold tiles of the shower wall, but it did nothing to ease the restless heat simmering inside him. He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if Law found out he’d deliberately gotten himself into this state just to tempt him.
Why the hell did I have to fall for this shitty alliance captain?
He gritted his teeth, annoyed at himself. The memory of Law earnestly explaining how to use the shower controls just now made him scoff under his breath. What a fucking actor—as if we haven’t already fucked in here.
A bitter tang rose in his throat. He twisted the shower knob to the left with practiced ease, letting the warm spray wash over him. Steam billowed around his body, soothing the lingering soreness from his training. The sensation was gentle, almost tender—like the way Law would sometimes clean him up afterward, lips brushing the nape of his neck as he wiped away the mess on his stomach.
Those tattooed fingers, after spending hours mapping every inch of his body, would still linger under the pretense of cleaning, squeezing his thighs possessively.
Zoro’s face burned at the thought. Then came frustration. Then anger. And finally—something dangerously close to hurt.
—So why the hell did Law have to approach me like that? Did he really think I wouldn’t notice?
Zoro didn’t have much experience with love. But common sense said that if someone actually liked you, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to drug your drink, right?…Which means Law just wants my body.
But Zoro? He wanted everything about Law.
Not just the tattoos stretched over that toned chest, the veins trailing down his abdomen—he loved the way Law’s hair stuck up in the morning, the rare, almost-hidden smiles buried in Bepo’s fur. He even liked the dark circles under Law’s eyes.
Liked him so damn much that even after realizing Law was spiking his drinks, he kept taking them. Kept drinking every last drop.
Idiot.
He wasn’t sure if he meant Law—or himself.
Zoro squeezed a dollop of shower gel from the bottle on the ledge, working it into a lather between his palms. The crisp scent of mint and gentian filled the air, and he inhaled deeply. Law’s smell.
His face was on fire.
He spread the soap over his body, pausing at his lower back to scrub roughly. If he hadn’t accidentally spotted that faint, lingering bite mark there, he might’ve convinced himself those feverish nights were just some fucked-up fantasy.
The thought that he’d once wondered if he’d imagined it all—if his own longing had conjured up those shameless scenes—made humiliation prickle under his skin. But after realizing it was all just Law’s twisted game, his mind had spiraled into even wilder fantasies.
If Law fucked him in bed after drugging him, Zoro would lie awake wondering how it’d feel over his desk, papers shoved aside. If Law coaxed his drugged, hazy self into moaning “Law” instead of “Torao,” he’d catch himself imagining what it’d be like to gasp “Law-nii” or “Master” instead.
But—
*How long does Law plan to keep lying to me?
03
Sometimes, Law thought the Straw Hat swordsman was far too trusting of his crewmates. Like when he drank the liquor Law handed him without hesitation. Or just now, when he casually stripped off his pants and walked barefoot into Law’s private bathroom without a second thought.
Those long, smooth legs flashed in Law’s vision for a brief moment before disappearing behind the wooden door. Law stared blankly at the plans spread across his desk before a dark thought took hold—Next time, I’m leaving bite marks on his thighs.
Truthfully, ever since Zoro had stepped into his room, Law hadn’t been able to focus at all. The limited contact they had as allies was nowhere near enough to satisfy his hunger for this effortlessly seductive, oblivious swordsman. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked their alliance by doing something so despicable—he had drugged the man’s drink.
Not just once. Many, many times.
After drinking the spiked liquor, the swordsman would first slump against Law’s shoulder in a daze before his body grew pliant and feverish. Those hands, capable of splitting mountains and cleaving through waves, would tremble weakly, unable to even push Law away. Kissed breathless, Zoro could only let saliva trickle from the corner of his lips, leaving behind a faint, obscene glisten.
The inside of the swordsman was even softer than his lips, hotter than his palms. The slightest movement would send shudders racing through him, drawing out tiny, helpless whimpers.
Who would have thought the man feared across the seas had such a lewd, sensitive body? Had anyone else seen Zoro like this—flushed, panting, completely undone?
Law clenched his fist.
He wasn’t usually a greedy man. But when it came to Zoro, he always wanted more.
After coming, the swordsman would grow unusually docile, clinging to Law’s neck like a lover. He’d clumsily return Law’s kisses, murmuring his name in a hushed voice—not “Torao,” but “Law.” The sober Zoro had never once called him that.
In moments like those, Law burned with the urge to mark every inch of Zoro’s skin as his own. Yet in reality, he was careful even with leaving a single hickey—hidden where no one could see, where even Zoro himself wouldn’t notice.
Only once had he lost control. When he came, he bit down hard on Zoro’s shoulder, leaving deep red teeth marks smeared with coppery blood.
Zoro’s lean waist jerked violently from the mix of pain and pleasure, his inner walls clamping down around Law in a scalding, liquid embrace. Broken moans spilled from his kiss-swollen lips, his metal earrings clinking wildly as fat tears rolled from the reddened corners of his eyes.
“Law…”
His name, tangled in a mess of sobs, spoken by the one he loved.
Law pressed their foreheads together, kissing the sweat-dampened tip of Zoro’s nose.
“Say ‘I like Law.’”
“I like Law… I like Law the most…”
So obedient.
It made his chest ache.
What do I do?
He was already in too deep.
What do I do…?
He had already taken the swordsman’s body, and now he was starting to crave his heart.
But that was nothing more than a delusion.
Law’s grip on the Wano maps and strategy documents tightened.
They were just allies—and soon enough, they would inevitably part ways. Besides, Zoro’s heart might already belong to someone else.
His beloved captain, who held his unwavering loyalty. The damn cook, who stole Zoro’s attention the moment he appeared. Hell, Law even envied Mihawk—that man had spent two whole years alone with Zoro.
He was probably ranked far, far down the list.
There was no room for him.
This is enough.
Law tried to convince himself.
Being able to hold him, kiss him—even if it was temporary—should be enough.
Yet ten minutes of mental preparation crumbled the instant Zoro stepped out of the bathroom, drying his damp hair and glancing at him.
The swordsman’s deep, magnetic voice cut through the silence-
*“Torao, you got any more of that liquor from last time?”
04
It came—that familiar, all-consuming heat. His vision swam before slowly clearing, and Zoro shifted slightly, realizing his limbs weren’t as weak and boneless as before, though they still felt a little unsteady.
Law’s kisses were gentler, more meticulous than ever, patiently mapping every inch of his sensitive skin. Zoro could hardly believe that just being kissed by Law like this was enough to leave him utterly soaked. The sheer humiliation of it nearly killed him.
The easily flustered swordsman threw an arm over his face, desperately muffling his sweet, trembling moans into increasingly ragged breaths.
Law’s fingers pushed inside—two, then three.
The slickness dripping from him coated every inch of the doctor’s long, elegant fingers, webbing between them in glistening strands when they spread. Law held the damning evidence right in front of Zoro’s face, delighting in the way his entrance clenched in response. Pressing him down into the mattress, Law’s low, rough voice brushed against his ear, sending shivers straight to his core:
"You’re so wet today… Did you miss me this much?"
Then, as if to soothe him, Law nuzzled his temple with the tip of his nose. "I’ll make you feel good soon."
It was too much.
He should’ve stopped this when Law hooked his legs over his shoulders and scraped his stubble against the sensitive skin of his perineum. But now, Law’s grip on his thighs was tight enough to leave deep red marks, his tongue relentlessly plunging into his fluttering hole again and again.
"Ngh—L-Law… there… ah—!"
Zoro’s fingers twisted into Law’s hair, his back arching helplessly before collapsing back onto the bed. The sensation was unbearably soft, yet the pleasure hit like needles, leaving his entire body tingling and weak. More slick gushed out uncontrollably, most of it swallowed greedily by Law, the excess spilling down his thighs and staining the sheets.
"I can’t—Law, ah—! S-Stop sucking…!"
His voice cracked, edging into a sob, but Law showed no mercy. His tongue worked faster, deeper, while his free hand suddenly pinched Zoro’s neglected nipple. Zoro’s back bowed off the bed with a broken cry, his mind blanking out for several seconds before he finally remembered how to breathe. His entire body flushed a delicate pink, and only then did he register the cooling stickiness on his stomach.
I came…?
Before his dazed mind could fully process it, Law sheathed himself inside in one brutal thrust. The overwhelming stretch burned as his swollen walls were forced apart, his oversensitive prostate ruthlessly crushed. Zoro shuddered like a wounded animal, his cries fracturing into wordless gasps with every snap of Law’s hips.
Law’s fingers tangled with his, squeezing tight.
"I like you… Zoro-ya… Zoro… I like you…"
He wasn’t given a chance to respond—Law’s biting kiss stole the last of his consciousness, along with his breath.
Zoro was no delicate woman, yet shamefully, Law fucked him straight into unconsciousness. He refused to admit it, though, so when he woke up, he kept his face buried against Law’s chest, pretending to still be asleep.
They were tangled together in the cramped bathtub in Law’s room—a space far too small for two men well over six feet. As usual, Law had pulled him into his lap for cleanup, their bodies pressed flush.
The steady thud of Law’s heartbeat pulsed against his ear, warm and alive. Zoro counted them absently, then frowned.
Why’s it getting faster?
Law’s lips brushed the shell of his ear.
"I didn’t put anything in your drink today."
A jolt of dread shot through Zoro. He tried to pull away, but Law’s arm locked around his waist like a steel band.
"Be with me, Zoro-ya."
End.