Title: Hot, Dull, Throbbing
Warning(s): Drugs, dubcon
He felt bad, really.
Part of him.
There's no real justification even if he does feel bad; even though he does love Zoro.
He's just tired; tired of the swordsman always being so in control, always so gentle, always so sweet.
If the actions and words so defined were as bad for him as their food counterparts, Law would have long since grown fat and sick.
No, he needs something else, something more, and like a starving man he is just desperate enough to do anything to get that 'something'.
Law almost put his whole idea to a stop when the swordsman hissed through clenched teeth, shoulders stiff and muscles tense as he dug bloody crescent shaped grooves into his own palms.
Hurting his lover was the last thing he wanted, and he'd reached out to stroke Zoro's cheek to comfort before he'd properly thought the action through. Zoro moved forward into his touch only briefly, but the damage was done; Law knew his lover wanted this, and only the outrageous standard of control the swordsman held himself to was preventing them both from gratification.
Zoro fought him.
He fought the drug in his veins.
Before the bindings had fully settled on the ground, strong hands had pinned him to the floor. Those same strong hands tore the clothing from his body; blunt fingernails left angry red trails along his chest and hips.
It stung, burned, he was stretched beyond his limits and left raw, and Law arched into every bit of it.
He ached and throbbed under every violent thrust, lost count of all the places bruises were sure to form later, was reduced to nothing more than breathy pants and wheezing groans as the swordsman gave him more than what he had been thirsting for.
He felt raw, used, loved.
Only once did Zoro hesitate, when one particularly brutal thrust had ripped an ugly, gargled noise from his throat, and the swordsman's movements stuttered for a moment until Law shifted. He rolled his hips up to meet his lovers, and it was all the encouragement Zoro needed to resume his previous motions.
It seemed to drag on for hours through his own pleasure-pain riddled haze, yet when it was over it seemed to have only been minutes.
Sweat clung to his body in a fine sheet and as his haze faded Law realized he was shaking.
The floor beneath him had mostly become the same as his body temperature yet when he moved and came in contact with cold patches, his over sensitive skin would send sharp needles of discomfort everywhere and left him feeling as though he needed to throw up.
Zoro pulled away from him completely, something he at first was grateful for as the contact between them had also been painful on his skin, but worried him when the swordsman stood and left him entirely.
Not that Law felt angry or embittered about it, no, he knew this was a possibility before he started; knew that when Zoro regained his sense he would be angry. Law had prepared himself for anger, had prepared himself for yelling and accusation and maybe to be hit.
He wasn't prepared for this.
This... this hurt, even if he deserved it.
Being left, abandoned, hurt worse than any punch, hurt worse than a grip on his heart.
Law pushed himself up with shaky arms and searched out his clothing.
It was a fruitless endeavor, really, what with everything but his pants having large rips in them; and the button to his jeans were no longer sewn in place.
It was another expected thing.
"What are you doing?"
Law didn't turn around, even if the sound of Zoro's voice made him happy.
"Getting dressed. Or, putting pants on anyway."
"Sit your fucking ass down."
It was a jarring request, and Law was half turned with a question poised on his lips when a strong arm around his waist pulled him down rather roughly. He fought against the pull, and wound up awkwardly straddling the swordsman's legs.
"You are so fucking stubborn. Just let me do this."
Again Law opened his mouth, this time with more of an insult than a question, but drew a sharp breath that cut off any word as a cold, damp cloth was touched to his skin.
It was too cold and too rough against his still sensitive skin, and brought pain every time it drug across a still raw scratch.
It made him feel sick; his hands clenched on Zoro's shoulders tight enough to leave temporary indentations.
The cloth was pulled away finally; he caught a glimpse of it, and several areas were splotched lightly with red.
"You shouldn't have come back." His voice sounded hoarse and pathetic even to himself.
"Yeah, I shouldn't have." Zoro neither looked nor sounded amused but he settled his hands on Law's hips. "But that'd mean leaving your pathetic ass to it's own devices."
Clenching his jaw, Law pushed against Zoro's shoulders in a fight to stand. "I'm older than you."
But the swordsman refused to let him go, and pulled him closer than he was before (and he had the gall to fucking smirk).
"Older, yeah, but not really smarter." The smirk faded. "Seriously. Why?"
"I don't have an answer to give you." He pried at Zoro's hands, trying to get free. The swordsman just held tighter.
"Law, are you scared of me?"
It was an odd question, odd enough that he couldn't answer for a moment. "No? I would never trust you with my body if I was."
"Do you trust me?"
"That should be obvious."
"Then why won't you tell me shit? Not just this, but with everything else. I'm not a damn mind reader, yet that's the way you always act; like I should just know what you want and need and what you're thinking. Just... open up to me."
Law scoffed slightly. "And what? You would have done this if I had asked? I know you, Zoro, you wouldn't. You can't."
The swordsman opened and closed his mouth a few times, furrowed his brow, and finally nodded. "Alright, I'll give you that. I can't hurt you, willingly. But that's because I care about you; I love you."
The words felt like a punch to the gut.
"Don't say that."
"I've never said it before; I think you need to hear it."
He closed his eyes. "I don't want to hear that."
A hand left his hip and cupped the back of his head, pulling him into an embrace. "I love you."
Law's hands were shaking as he pushed halfheartedly at the swordsman's chest. "Stop."
There were tears forming, and he didn't want to cry. He didn't want Zoro to see him crying. "How can you be so stubborn."
"Look who's talking."
"Honestly, Zoro," He took a shaky breath and pressed his forehead to the swordsman's shoulder. "You're fucking crazy for coming back."
"I know." Zoro's voice was quiet. "We're both crazy, just different kinds of it. And as it turns out, my breed of crazy loves blood thirsty doctors who never sleep and is willing to forgive them for just about anything."
Aforementioned sleepless doctor snorted (it was the closest he could get to laughter in the current situation), before hesitantly pressing a kiss to his crazy sword obsessed boyfriend's neck. "I love you, Zoro."
"Yeah," The smirk didn't need to be seen, he could just hear it in Zoro's voice. "I know, shitty doctor. I love you too."