Chapter Text
Two months after they got together, Law officially moved into Shanks' apartment.
On a certain Friday night, a light drizzle fell outside the window. Law, having just finished a week of heavy coursework and internship, had washed up early and, carrying the refreshing dampness of a recent shower and his exhaustion, buried himself in the soft bedding. When Shanks, after finishing the last few emails, returned to the bedroom from the study, he saw Law lying on his side, back to the door, black hair still slightly damp against the pale nape of his neck. In the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp, he looked exceptionally soft and harmless.
Shanks walked over quietly, lifted the covers, and lay down, naturally pulling the other into his arms from behind. The pleasant scent of Law's body wash, mixed with his own clean, shower-fresh smell, filled Shanks' nostrils, dispelling much of his fatigue from the day. He sighed contentedly, nuzzling his chin against the top of Law's head, an arm encircling his waist, his palm habitually resting on Law's flat abdomen, feeling the subtle rise and fall with each breath.
"Exhausted?" Shanks asked in a low voice, his lips close to Law's ear.
"...Mhm." Law made a vague sound of agreement, his body leaning back slightly to press closer against the warm source behind him. He really was tired today-a complex case discussion followed by practical exercises in the afternoon had almost drained his energy. But being held like this by Shanks, breathing in his steady, reliable scent, his taut nerves slowly relaxed.
Sensing his subconscious reliance, Shanks felt his heart melt into a puddle of tenderness. He tightened his arm a little more, his palm starting to gently massage the sore muscles at Law's waist. His technique was good, the pressure just right, carrying a soothing quality. Law narrowed his eyes in comfort, a nearly satisfied purring sound escaping his throat, like a cat being stroked.
At first, it was just quiet cuddling and gentle massage. But gradually, the atmosphere in the stillness and intimacy began to shift subtly.
Shanks' kisses moved slowly from Law's ear to the sensitive side of his neck. Warm breath brushed against the skin, causing a slight shiver. Law's body stiffened a fraction, but he didn't pull away. Shanks' embrace remained gentle, but the heat radiating from the arm wrapped around him and his chest seemed higher than before. The kisses landing on his skin also transformed from simple touches into lingering, suggestive caresses.
Law could feel the change in Shanks' body-the undeniable heat and intensity, his gradually deepening breaths-all clearly conveying a certain signal. His own heartbeat quickened involuntarily; blood seemed to rush beneath his skin, bringing a strange warmth and a hint of... nervousness.
Since being together, they'd shared plenty of intimacy-hugs, kisses, comforting each other-but they had never taken that final step. Law knew Shanks was waiting for him, never pushing too hard, even actively avoiding situations that might make him feel pressured. Law had always felt and been grateful for this respect and patience. But now, perhaps the atmosphere was just right, perhaps the accumulated emotions had reached a tipping point, things seemed to naturally slide in that direction.
When Shanks' kiss traveled to his lips, deeper and more lingering than ever before, Law felt a slight dizziness. He responded clumsily, his fingers unconsciously clutching the fabric of Shanks' pajamas over his chest. Shanks' breathing grew heavier. One hand braced beside Law, the other still around his waist, but the scorching heat of his palm through the thin pajama fabric felt almost burning.
Yet, at the very moment when passion seemed about to overwhelm reason, Shanks keenly caught a nearly imperceptible stiffness deep within Law's body-not the tension of arousal, but more like a subconscious defense and... fear. Even with his eyes closed, trying to respond to the kiss, Shanks could feel it.
Almost without hesitation, Shanks stopped all movement.
He propped himself up, putting a little distance between them. The warm bedside lamp illuminated his defined features. The desire churning in his red eyes receded like a tide, replaced by clear concern and a touch of remorse.
"Law?" His voice was a bit hoarse, but his tone was incredibly gentle, questioning.
Law opened his eyes. His golden irises still held the lingering haze from earlier, but there was indeed a trace of panic in their depths that he hadn't fully managed to conceal. He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. He wasn't rejecting Shanks; he had even felt... something himself just now. But the unfamiliar, potentially out-of-control premonition still instinctively sparked a flicker of fear in him. He was used to control, used to maintaining distance. Even with Shanks, completely surrendering himself still required overcoming the final psychological barrier.
Seeing that flicker of panic in Law's eyes, Shanks' heart felt as if pricked by a fine needle. He immediately withdrew completely, turned, and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Law. He took a deep breath, calming the physiological reaction that hadn't fully subsided. After a few seconds, he turned his head back and gave Law a soothing, even somewhat apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I got too impatient." He reached out, gently stroking Law's warm cheek. "You're tired, rest first. I'll go take a shower." His tone was calm and natural, without any displeasure or frustration from being interrupted, only full of consideration and respect. As he spoke, he made to get up and leave.
Just as Shanks' hand was about to leave his cheek, Law almost instinctively reached out and grabbed his wrist.
Shanks paused, looking back at him in surprise.
Law's cheeks were still flushed, but the panic in his eyes was gone. He looked at Shanks, at the unreserved tenderness, concern, and the forcibly suppressed desire in his eyes. He saw how easily, how unhesitatingly Shanks had stopped for his sake, even prepared to actively leave to calm down... The last bit of ice in Law's heart finally melted completely.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Shanks; he just... needed a little time, a signal. And Shanks' retreat and respect right now were the most needed, most powerful reassurance he could get.
"Don't go." Law's voice was soft, carrying a barely perceptible tremor, but his gaze was unprecedentedly firm and soft. The grip on Shanks' wrist also tightened slightly.
Shanks froze for a moment, then was swept by immense surprise and even more overwhelming tenderness. He sat back on the edge of the bed, leaning close again, but without any sense of pressure. He just gently pressed his forehead against Law's, his voice low and hoarse but gentle: "Are you sure? Law, don't force yourself. I can wait. As long as it takes."
Law lifted his other hand, somewhat clumsily touching the side of Shanks' face. His fingertips traced the line of his jaw, then he leaned forward proactively, pressing a very light but very clear kiss to Shanks' lips.
"Sure." He said quietly, his golden eyes meeting Shanks', reflecting the lamplight and Shanks' gentle face. "I'm not scared anymore."
Because it's you, I'm not scared anymore.
He didn't say the last part out loud, but Shanks understood.
At that moment, Shanks' heart was filled with immense happiness and love, almost overflowing. This kiss was different from any before. It was extremely slow, carrying a kind of almost solemn reverence. Shanks' lips gently covered Law's, not rushing to deepen it, just carefully outlining their shape, feeling his slight trembling, letting him adapt and relax with the utmost patience. Only when Law's breathing gradually evened out, his body no longer tense, even unconsciously tilting his head back a little, did Shanks gently deepen the kiss.
This was a signal.
Shanks carried this extreme gentleness and patience through every step that followed. He kept his eyes on Law's, asking with his gaze, soothing with his touch. When his fingers undid the buttons of Law's pajamas, the movement was slow, as if unwrapping a precious gift. When the slightly cool air touched his skin, Law instinctively flinched. Shanks immediately stopped, covering the area with his own warm palm until the skin warmed again.
"Cold?" he whispered.
Law shook his head. His golden eyes shimmered with moisture, reflecting the soft glow of the bedside lamp and Shanks' focused face. He didn't speak, just lifted his other arm, somewhat clumsily wrapping it around Shanks' neck, pulling his body closer.
This silent invitation made Shanks' breath catch. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, suppressing the churning desire within, before opening them again, his eyes filled with love and restraint so thick it was almost tangible.
"Don't be scared," he kissed Law's forehead, then the tip of his nose, finally lingering near his lips. "We'll take it slow."
He truly was slow. Every new touch, each closer connection, was accompanied by countless kisses and whispers. He told Law he was beautiful, shared his own feelings, and constantly checked in on his. When the most intimate moment finally arrived, Shanks' movements were so gentle they were almost reverent. All his attention was focused on Law's face, not missing the slightest change in his expression.
The initial discomfort made Law furrow his brow, his fingers unconsciously digging into Shanks' arm. Shanks immediately halted all movement, just maintaining the embrace, continuously kissing his sweaty temples, murmuring over and over in his ear: "Relax, Law, relax... I'm here... just follow me..."
His voice held a strange magic, mixed with warm breath and a steady heartbeat, gradually smoothing away Law's initial tension and discomfort. Law slowly relaxed, trying to adapt to that unfamiliar, full feeling. Only when he was no longer resisting, even clumsily attempting to respond, did Shanks dare begin to move, extremely slowly, the rhythm always guided by Law's reactions.
This was not a conquest or a taking, but a slow, mutual exploration and surrender. Sweat mingled, breaths intertwined, the sound of rain outside the window became the perfect accompaniment. All senses were amplified infinitely-the warmth of skin against skin, the exchanged breath between lips and teeth, the reflection of oneself in the other's eyes, and the gradually synchronizing heartbeat.
When the final climax slowly washed over them like a warm tide, submerging them both, Shanks held Law tightly, shielding him completely in his embrace, as if wanting to bear all the tremors and palpitations for him. Law buried his face deeply in the crook of Shanks' neck, letting out a muffled, tearful sigh, his fingers clutching Shanks' back tightly, like a drowning person grasping the only life raft.
The aftershocks lingered. Shanks didn't pull away immediately but, still in their tightly entwined position, turned onto his side, letting Law rest his head on his arm. His other hand continued to gently stroke Law's sweat-dampened back, like soothing a startled animal. Law's body still trembled slightly, his breathing ragged, completely boneless, allowing Shanks to arrange him as needed.
Shanks pulled the covers over them both, carefully adjusting their position to make Law more comfortable. Only then did he lower his head, pressing his lips to Law's sweat-dampened hair, his voice terribly hoarse: "Okay?"
Law was too tired to even lift his eyelids, just gave an almost imperceptible nod, his cheek rubbing against Shanks' sweaty chest, mumbling something incoherent. But his dependent posture said it all.
Shanks' heart melted into a puddle, mixed with a pang of aching tenderness. He knew Law must be utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. He said nothing more, just held him tighter, patting his back gently, rhythmically, until his breathing completely evened out and deepened, sinking into a deep, sweet sleep.
The next morning, sunlight woke Shanks earlier than usual. Perhaps because his mind was preoccupied, his sleep hadn't been deep.
Law was still asleep in his arms, his posture much more relaxed than the night before, but his brow was still slightly furrowed, as if even in dreams he could feel the lingering discomfort in his body. Shanks gazed at him quietly, greedily tracing the lines of his peaceful sleeping face, his heart filled with an indescribable fullness-a complex emotion blending tenderness, satisfaction, pride, and boundless love.
He noticed a hint of moisture still clinging to Law's eyelashes-whether sweat or the unconscious tears from the night's passion, he didn't know. It made his heart twinge again. He tried to move his slightly numb arm with extreme care, hoping to extricate it without waking Law.
However, the slight movement made Law stir restlessly in his sleep, emitting a tiny, almost inaudible whimper. His brow furrowed deeper, and his body curled slightly, as if some part of him was indeed uncomfortable.
Shanks immediately froze, not daring to move further. With his free hand, he reached gently under the covers, his palm coming to rest on the small of Law's back. He began to massage it with the softest pressure. He knew that area had borne the most strain.
Perhaps the massage helped. Law's tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed, his body easing, even unconsciously leaning closer toward the source of warmth-Shanks' hand.
Shanks lay there on his side, motionless, serving as both a human pillow and masseuse, his gaze tenderly lingering on Law's face. Sunlight crept onto the headboard, illuminating the fine hairs on Law's face and the faint marks left by Shanks on his neck and collarbone. Looking at those traces, Shanks felt no smug satisfaction of possession, only deeper affection and a touch of remorse-perhaps he hadn't been restrained enough last night.
After some time, Law's long lashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly opened. The golden irises, thick with sleep and confusion, met Shanks' close, concerned face and stared blankly for a moment before the memories of the previous night flooded back.
Instantly, Law's cheeks, ears, even his neck flushed a deep, visible red. He instinctively tried to pull the covers over his face, only to find them pinned by Shanks' arm. And his body... felt utterly limp, with a distinct, hard-to-admit discomfort emanating from a certain private area.
"Good morning." Shanks spoke first, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep but incredibly gentle. He stopped massaging and instead cupped Law's warm cheek. "Sleep okay? Anywhere especially uncomfortable?"
Being asked so directly made Law blush even hotter. His eyes darted around, avoiding Shanks' gaze, and he mumbled vaguely, "...It's okay."
"Liar." Shanks chuckled softly, his fingertip lightly tapping Law's slightly swollen lower lip. "Here, and..." His finger trailed down, hovering over Law's waist, "here, and elsewhere... definitely uncomfortable. My fault."
There was no teasing in his tone, only seriousness and heartache. Hearing this, Law's embarrassment faded somewhat, replaced by a warm, cherished sense of being cared for. He lifted his eyes to meet Shanks' and noticed faint shadows under them. Clearly, Shanks hadn't slept well either, having tended to him all night.
"...You didn't sleep well either," Law said softly, reaching out to touch the shadows beneath Shanks' eyes with his fingertips.
"I'm fine." Shanks caught his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed his fingertips. "What matters is you." He paused, then asked again, "Really don't need more rest? We can do nothing today; I'll stay home with you."
Law shook his head. While his body was indeed uncomfortable, it wasn't unbearable, and... he didn't want to spend the whole day in bed. "I want to get up," he said, trying to push himself up, but the soreness in his core made him falter.
Shanks immediately supported him, carefully helping him into a semi-sitting position, arranging several soft pillows behind his back for comfort. "Take it slow." He adjusted the pillows meticulously, then asked, "Thirsty? I'll get water."
Law nodded. Watching Shanks-wearing only sleep pants, his bare, well-defined torso-quickly leave the bedroom, Law's heart filled with an unprecedented sense of peace and contentment. The physical discomfort was real, but the psychological feeling of complete relaxation and belonging was even more distinct.
Shanks soon returned with a glass of warm water. He tested the temperature himself before holding it to Law's lips. Law took small sips, the warm liquid soothing his dry throat.
After drinking, Shanks didn't immediately put the glass down. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, reached over to tuck a strand of sweat-dampened hair behind Law's ear, then leaned in and placed an exceptionally tender good morning kiss on his forehead.
"Still uncomfortable?" he asked again, his gaze serious as he looked into Law's eyes.
Meeting his eyes, Law this time shook his head slowly, without hesitation. He lifted a hand, somewhat clumsily stroking Shanks' stubbled jaw, and whispered, "Not anymore."
Because it's you, because I know you would never hurt me.
He didn't say it aloud, but Shanks understood. A wave of warmth surged in Shanks' chest. He pressed Law's hand against his cheek, the smile in his eyes so tender it seemed to drip honey.
"Then," Shanks' thumb gently stroked the back of Law's hand, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible anticipation and caution, "next time... will you still let me get this close?"
Law's face flushed again, but this time he didn't avert his gaze. He just lowered his eyelids, gave an almost imperceptible nod, and then, in a voice barely audible, softly said, "Mhm."
That tiny, affirmative sound was like the most beautiful melody, instantly illuminating Shanks' entire world. He couldn't help but laugh, a low, joyful sound filled with pure happiness. He leaned down again, this time kissing Law's lips-a gentle, lingering kiss, devoid of any lust, only overflowing with cherishment and joy.
The sunlight grew brighter, filtering through the curtains to envelop the embracing, kissing pair in a soft golden glow. Dust motes danced in the air, along with a new, more intimately intertwined atmosphere.
The physical discomfort would gradually fade, but after this night, something had changed forever. The last, invisible barrier between them had vanished, replaced by a deeper level of trust, surrender, and an ineffable intimate bond. Shanks' tenderness and respect, Law's trust and surrender, together wove the most solid, gentlest foundation of their relationship.
And this was only the beginning of a deeper, more intimate journey. The future was long, but they had already clasped each other's hands, ready to walk it together, in a more complete, more tightly bound way.