Disclaimer: I don't own the Albino Alligator universe, and I don't plan to make any money off of it.
Author's Note: If you're planning to leave a review, please see my profile first. Might save you some time. This takes place about eight years before the events at Dino's Last Chance Bar. The statements in the first two paragraphs are not intended as slash. For Law, sex is all about dominance, not attraction. That's my interpretation, anyway.
Almost since the first time Milo had spoken to him, Law had known he wanted to fuck that smart mouth. Shut him up once and for all. He tried to put the idea aside, because this was the boss's brother. The boss would be pissed if he found out. But good intentions had never gotten very far with Law.
It was less than three weeks after he moved in with them that he realized he was going to have to either fuck Milo or give him one hell of a beating. He was sitting on the faded old couch, watching TV and having a beer and wondering if he ought to just leave before either of them got back when Milo came in from work. They didn't acknowledge each other as Milo headed for the kitchen. He came back a while later with a sandwich and a glass of water and sat down in the room's only chair. Law curled his lip. Milo never drank during daylight. Didn't that just figure.
Milo glanced at Law and then back to the TV with an inward shrug. He was sitting there like a surly old dog just waiting to snap at someone. This seemed to be Law's default expression. Milo wondered, not for the first time, what had been going through Dova's head when he'd had this bright idea. Mostly Law could be ignored, like some tasteless and slightly macabre Halloween decoration that had been left out. One of those life-size zombie deals. But sometimes he could look at this man, with his oddly sloped face and lambent eyes, and sense that he was just about an inch or two from becoming dangerous.
"What were you in for, anyway?" he asked casually.
Law turned a shark-like grin on him. "Fucking your mamma. And she loved it."
Not to mention his inability to give a civil answer.
Milo shrugged and said blandly, "Don't think so. Mamma wasn't into bestiality." He cast a sidelong look at Law. "Guess yours must've been, though."
Law grunted. The only right answer to a comment like that was a broken jaw. But he was the boss's brother, damn it. Not only that, the boss friggin' coddled him.
Milo settled back to watch whatever was on. He guessed he shouldn't have said that, all things considered. Way he figured it, Dova must've been drunk when he'd had the idea of inviting Law to move in. Then he'd just been too stubborn to admit he was wrong when he'd sobered up. So here they were.
Still, with what had gone down before that, he felt a grudging obligation to be friendly to their "guest" (and, lord, he hoped a guest was all Law was). He winced at the memory, although it had been nearly three months now. Was it possible that Dova knew? Milo didn't think Dova would have been able to keep quiet about something like that, but it would explain his bizarre impulse to make nice with someone like Law. Dova wasn't usually one for being perverse.
He started to ask what he considered to be a conciliatory question: what did Law want for dinner? But before he could get two words out, Law was up and standing over him.
"Ya wanna shut that big mouth, or ya want me ta shut it?"
Milo wrinkled his nose. "Say, Law, anyone ever tell you you smell like an old dog blanket?"
Law seemed at a loss for a moment. They stared at each other. Milo felt his heartbeat start to speed up. Were they actually going to fight? He knew Law was bigger and probably had a lot more experience with crap like this. But Milo was no coward, either. If Law wanted to fight, they'd friggin' fight.
Law, in fact, did not want to fight. He wanted to beat this little runt to a bloody pulp. And he could do it. He would do it. Maybe it was a dumbass thing to do under the circumstances, but there simply wasn't a choice anymore.
"I warned ya", he drawled. Then he punched Milo square in the nose.
After three weeks without any serious fights, Law was just slightly out of practice. Punching almost straight downwards was an awkward angle, and one he'd only tried a couple of times before. And Milo was quick. He managed to turn his head before the blow landed. All in all, Milo was very lucky. These three things saved him a fractured skull and possible brain damage.
As it was, his nose broke and the skin over his left cheekbone split open. Blood ran into that eye. For a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Law dragged him out of the chair and hit him again, going for his right eye. Bright white light obliterated everything, and when his vision came back it was only a vague blur of colors. Law let go of him and he fell to the floor. Sharp pain exploded in his side. Law had kicked him, and they both heard a muffled snap. Milo lay still. He had underestimated this thug, and there was no damn way he was going to get even one good punch in now. But he sure as hell wasn't going to give Law the satisfaction of seeing him curl up or cry out. Another kick landed, and Milo bit his lip until he tasted blood.
Kicking lightly at Milo's shoulder, Law shoved him onto his back. With an empty smile, he prepared to finish his opponent. He was already down, and stomping him in the abdomen, just below the ribs, would make sure he didn't get up anytime soon. He raised his boot.
At the last moment, Law paused. He brought his boot slowly down on the man's body, keeping most of his weight on the other foot, and tried to figure out what was off about this situation. The guy was too quiet. That wasn't it, but that was part of it. He'd sent a couple of guys who didn't yell to the hospital in the past. They'd been big fuckers. Little guys like this always seemed to start hollerin' almost before you touched them. Law cocked his head, confused. He must be new, because a guy this size that couldn't even fight worth a damn either got stabbed or became someone's bitch in the first week. If someone had claimed him, messing him up was not only stupid but possibly deadly. But if-
And very suddenly, Law remembered where he was. "Oh, goddamnit", he said quietly but fervently. He looked down at Milo. Then he went and sat down in the chair, shoving the other man's body a few more inches away so he could stretch out his legs.
What to do? He could run, but the boss would have the cops after him. He'd be back in jail tomorrow, unless some kind of miracle occurred. Or he could stay and wait for the boss. Then the boss might take care of Law himself. Roach had had two methods of punishment. His favorite had of course been… that. Law shuddered a little. Then he snorted and muttered, "Damn sissy", at himself and forced himself to move past it.
The other punishment was breaking bones. One or two, usually. Three on one occasion. Always in the hands or feet. Those broke easily, and the damage could be hidden from the guards. He held up his hands and regarded them, distantly pleased that they weren't shaking. He thought the current boss would probably favor the second punishment. But if he'd really messed the guy's brother up…
Milo had managed to get up, but he could barely see anything and every step made his head swim with vertigo. He stumbled over to the couch and half-sat, half-fell onto it. There. Better than lying on the floor at that sociopath's feet. He closed his eyes. They weren't doing much good anyway.
Then Law's hands were on him. Law pushed lightly on the bridge of his nose, and Milo hissed at him and pulled away. Damn sadist. A hand gripped his jaw roughly and the other one pressed on the various bruises and the place where the skin had broken open. Milo wondered if Law might not be one of those sickos who got off on causing pain. Well, let's see if you're a masochist, too. He was more or less sitting up, and Law was leaning over him. Milo got a foot up and dealt him a pretty solid kick in the lower chest. Law stumbled back and fell, and Milo smiled a little. Pity he couldn't see very well right now. He would have liked a better view of that.
Getting up, Law shoved Milo down on his back and dug a knee into his stomach. He ignored the retching noises this produced and moved his hands down the sides of Milo's chest, pressing. At one place, there was an unnatural give under his right hand and Milo made a choked noise that had probably been meant to be an expletive.
Law got off him and went back to the chair. He had a broken nose and one broken rib. Not too bad. The face was pretty marked up, but since there weren't any guards to see maybe that wouldn't matter so much. Law thought he might get off with two broken bones, since it was the first time. It sucked, but it was better than going back to jail. All kinds of better.