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chenziee · 10 months ago

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Cigars, smoke, you, and I

This story was brought to you by @/ritsukotheloner on twitter! Thank you so much for the trust with this commission 🤍

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[ Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

—————

Punk Hazard was a mess. It wasn’t like Smoker had expected any less; when he had followed the emergency call to the supposedly deserted island, he knew he would find something akin to a burning shipwreck of a situation, but this really was something else.

Truly the kind of mess that only happened when Straw Hat was involved.

Smoker knew he should have locked that kid up all the way back in Logue Town.

“You look like you’re about to blow up like a pressure pot, White Chase-ya,” an amused voice said. “You really need to relax once in a while.”

Closing his eyes, Smoker took a deep breath as he prayed for patience. This asshole…

Smoker sighed as he turned around to glare at the young pirate. He was lounging on the couch that took up most of the small room—one of the last few intact ones in the remains of Caesar’s laboratory. The room that Smoker had claimed for his own just to get a damn break.

A break which he was apparently not going to ever get.

“What are you still doing here, Law?” Smoker asked in annoyance. “Get the hell off the island already.”

“Then tell your girl to take the kids and leave. Straw Hat-ya’s refusing to set sail before then.” Law shrugged, leaning further back into the couch as if he belonged there.

Smoker rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Why did he suffer this guy? As if Straw Hat wasn’t bad enough…

“I’m going to kick you out,” Smoker growled.

Law snorted, his lips curling into that insufferable smirk of his. “You’re welcome to try.”

Clicking his tongue, Smoker looked away. There was no point to this; Law made it perfectly clear he wasn’t about to leave and if Smoker were to be honest… he didn’t really want him to leave either. He would sooner tell Straw Hat he believed he would become the Pirate King than admit it but something in Law’s demeanour, his eyes, the way he talked—not to mention the whole thing with Vergo… it worried Smoker.

Something was going on, something deeper than Law was letting on, and Smoker wasn’t sure what to do about it.

How ridiculous; it wasn’t like they were dating or anything. Sure, they may have fucked a few times since Law became a Warlord, maybe got drunk together a few times more, and maybe Tashigi got a bit confused about it all, but Law was a pirate. Warlord or not, he was still an outlaw, and he certainly didn’t need Smoker to worry about him.

He was likely to lose his Warlord status within the week anyway; then Smoker was finally free to arrest him like he deserved.

“Are you done doing mental gymnastics over there?” Law asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“Fuck off,” Smoker groaned, before taking his jacket off and tossing it on the coffee table next to the couch.

Smoker heaved a sigh, walking over to loom over Law; the pirate simply looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, the goddamned cocky smirk still on his face. It was making Smoker’s blood boil, stirring something up inside him—and he was sure that was exactly what Law was trying to do. To piss him off, to rile him up, to manipulate him into finally snapping. Smoker hated it… and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

Instead, he was drawn to the man, to the pirate, the scum of the world. Like a damn fool.

He hated Law for it. He hated himself for it.

But even so…

“You’re going to drive me insane,” Smoker muttered as he leaned over the couch, placing one of his knees in between Law’s legs, forcing them apart.

Law didn’t say anything; only his smirk widened as tattooed fingers danced over the naked skin of Smoker’s chest, making goosebumps rise wherever they touched, a shiver running up Smoker’s spine.

Clicking his tongue once more, Smoker grabbed Law’s chin, forcing him to look at him. There was a cheeky, victorious spark in Law’s gaze, one that pissed Smoker off to no end. He narrowed his eyes at him, his expression twisting into a scowl.

That only seemed to amuse Law even more. “You seem a bit frustrated, White Chase-ya. Something wrong?”

How Smoker wanted to just snap his neck…

A growl escaping him, Smoker finally moved in—their lips crashing together.

The kiss was far from sweet; it was rough, full of energy and conflicting emotions. Lips moving with practised ease but not gentle, with teeth nipping painfully, hair being pulled. It was a kiss of passion, of lust—a physical thing. Feelings meant nothing—they were something Smoker refused to let enter this strange relationship of theirs.

After all, there was nothing here. He was a marine, Law was a pirate.

What use were feelings for?

Law would laugh in his face if he said that out loud. He would tease him mercilessly with an irritating smirk on his face, even while his eyes would have this stupidly soft look in them. Then he would tell Smoker to stop lying to himself.

Maybe he would be right. But Smoker knew better than to entertain those thoughts. He was already in too deep. Letting himself fall any deeper…

That would be plain insanity.

—————

Taking a long drag of his cigars, Smoker sighed. Once again, he found himself in this situation. How many times had it been until now? How many times had he ended up lying in a bed—or a couch in this case—, smoking his cigars with a warm body curled up against him?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

It didn’t really matter at this point anymore either. He could only give up and resign himself to his fate of having a giant goddamned cat sprawled in between his legs and using his chest like a fucking pillow.

“What are you thinking about?” said cat asked quietly.

Smoker blew out the smoke from his lungs, taking a moment to reply. What was he thinking about? “Wondering how the fuck I got here, I guess.”

“Chasing after Straw Hat-ya, I imagine,” Law noted with amusement and Smoker just knew that fucking smirk was back on his face.

“You know damn well that’s not what I meant,” Smoker sighed. He didn’t even have the energy to get angry anymore.

He had expected Law would jump on the opportunity to tease him but when he only hummed noncommittally, Smoker couldn’t help but frown, looking at him questioningly. But of course, he couldn’t see his face; only the mess of dark blue hair resting against Smoker’s chest was visible. Smoker wondered what kind of expression Law was wearing right then. And what he was thinking about in that moment.

“Oi, Law—” Smoker started, but then stopped himself. He wasn’t even sure what he was about to ask, or what he was going to say.

Law didn’t acknowledge Smoker’s words, didn’t ask what they were supposed to mean. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move at all—not until he craned his head back, gazing up at Smoker with an unreadable look in his eyes before he reached out with his hand…

And then, Smoker could only watch, completely stunned, as Law grabbed one of his cigars, taking it straight out of Smokers mouth and bringing it to his own lips, taking a drag. As he exhaled, the smoke slowly rolled past his lips, swirling in the air gently, almost beautifully.

It felt like with the smoke, Law was letting something else out.

“Since when do you smoke?” Smoker asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” Law replied simply, only to take yet another drag.

Smoker was silent for a moment, considering Law who suddenly seemed so small against him. There were a million things Smoker wanted to ask, like ‘Are you okay?’ or something equally stupid. But he couldn’t say that. Didn’t know how.

And so, he said the next best thing. “Shouldn’t you be choking then?”

Law snorted, his hand that wasn’t holding the cigar rising to casually give Smoker the finger. Truly an asshole in every situation…

“‘I don’t! doesn’t mean ‘I never tried’. Nor does it mean I don’t know how to,” Law said.

His voice was full of sarcastic amusement, teasing Smoker… but it felt empty, heavy. Like Law was somewhere else and not here and now, in this room with Smoker. He was somewhere far away, out of Smoker’s reach, even though he was making himself perfectly comfortable in his arms. Somehow… he was slipping away from Smoker’s grasp despite his warmth being everything Smoker could feel.

Without even realising it, Smoker wrapped his arms around Law’s stomach, pulling him close. He could feel his chest rising; when he placed his hand over his heart, he could feel it beating. And yet, it still didn’t feel like Law was there.

“Just what are you planning?” Smoker asked, barely audible.

Law huffed, shooting a quick look at Smoker. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Vice-Admiral?”

Smoker rolled his eyes. Now the asshole remembered Smoker’s position—even if it were simply to deflect the issue. “You know damn well I can’t arrest you, Warlord.”

Law laughed at that, the small movement shaking Smoker to the core. “Touche. But how long will I still have that status, hm?” Law asked, even though it didn’t sound like he was waiting for an answer.

“Seems like that bit doesn’t matter to you,” Smoker muttered.

“I got what I wanted.” Law shrugged as he brought Smoker’s cigar back to his lips. “I broke the cogs.”

“Don’t lie.” Smoker knew there was no point to this conversation. He knew Law wouldn’t explain, wouldn’t give him any more to go on than he already did. But that didn’t stop Smoker from continuing even so. “It might be a cog for Straw Hat’s purpose but not for you. You just wanted to piss Doflamingo off. What is it you want from the guy?”

Law didn’t answer him. Nor did Smoker expect him to.

They sat together in silence, Smoker’s arms tightening around Law, as if he was scared he would slip away for real—and Law let him. He took a deep breath, holding it in for a second… then exhaled slowly, his whole body relaxing into Smoker.

For a moment… nothing else mattered.

They sat in silence until their cigars burned out.

—————

“Where are they?!”

Smoker barely moved a muscle at the enraged shout. Somehow, it was really damn satisfying seeing Doflamingo of all people losing his composure, letting his emotions show. Smoker was used to seeing the Warlord with that unreadable, everpreset grin—as if nothing mattered to him, as if he was above it all; as if he was controlling everything like the world itself was tied to his stupid strings.

But now, nothing was going as he wanted it to and Smoker had to silently commend Law for driving this man into a corner like this.

“Where the hell did those damned kids go? Smoker!”

Meeting Doflamingo’s gaze, Smoker’s mind flashed to his conversation with Law earlier. SAD. Green Bit. Dressrosa. Joker. Cigars. Smoke.

None of it made any sense but Smoker did know one thing.

“I have no idea… Joker. They slipped away. I’ll have to answer to Vice Admiral Vergo for that one.”

Law told him where he was going for a reason. Even if he were simply using Smoker for his own purpose that way, he trusted that Smoker would do something with that information.

The least Smoker could do right now was to not disappoint that trust.

#one piece #smolaw #smoker #trafalgar law #smoker x law #punk hazard again because i don't have enough fics set there <3 #hurt/comfort #bittersweet #i guess?#ritsukoryoku #ritsukotheloner #commission #my first ever commission 🥺#and probably last ahahaha #never expected i'd write this ship but xD it was pretty fun trying something new :)

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