Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Drake held one hand out in front of him, casually letting it grow larger, develop scales and sharp claws. He traced the claws with the fingers of his other hand thoughtlessly, eyes distant. He had done this several times while deep in thought, one human hand following the seams of the scales on the reptilian one.

Law picked up the other’s hand in both of his own, examining it curiously, and noted absently that the other had snapped back to the present and was watching him study it.

The scales were smooth, more like leather in texture than anything else, and he thought he understood now why Drake wore so much of the fabric.

The claws were each the length of his fingers, sharp and curved and deadly, and he pressed a fingertip testingly against one of the points, careful to not puncture.

Drake didn’t breathe until Law had removed his finger from the claw, and he felt the tension lessen incrementally in the muscles of his hand- he’d passed some sort of test, apparently.

He rested his hand against Drake’s, noting the size difference- his own hand fit comfortably in the palm of the other’s transformed claw. Looking at it made him feel small, but in a good way. He glanced at Drake, and smirked- the other had gone very red.

“How does it feel?” “Hm?” “The shift in anatomy- going from having five fingers to three, the difference in musculature?” His face went thoughtful, and he flexed the claws, “It feels… interesting. I can feel it all, I can feel what’s missing, but it doesn’t feel… wrong? This form is just as natural to me as the human one. Sometimes, if I spend too much time in the beast form, I feel too small in my human skin afterwards. Off balance without my tail. I’m as much beast as human, honestly.”

Drake grinned at him with sharp teeth, and he felt his heart skip a beat. That was… an invigorating sight. His pesky brain alerted him that it suddenly, desperately wanted to know what those teeth felt like on his skin.

He scooted a bit closer, just too close to be polite. “It gets lonely, right? Being the one in charge, the one everyone looks to.” Drake shrugged, “I do my duty- my men have put their trust in me, and I refuse to fail them.” “I get it. It gets lonely for me, too.”

He leaned in, eyes intent. “I’m just going to say it- I want to sleep with you.” Drake didn’t say anything, and he continued, “Nothing more to it than that- two captains who’ve been through a lot of stress and need some release. Just tonight. I trust you not to do anything, because you freed me in Wano and rescued my crew. And you can trust me not to do anything because, well, there’s not really anywhere I could go if I failed, and my crew likes yours too much already.”

“You don’t think I can trust you because I freed you in Wano?” “I think you’re a man who never really trusts anyone.” Drake raised a brow, “And you know what sort of man I am?” “I know enough. You’re an intelligent man- intelligent enough to know I’m the kind of person you want on your side. An honorable man, enough to not take advantage of…”

He leered openly, grin widening, “compromising positions. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid, hasn’t it? Spending two years in enemy territory, hackles up at every moment. And you’re still so… patient.” He ran a hand against the collar of Drake’s coat, followed the hem of it down his chest, his touch so light and teasing.

“You’re the perfect gentleman, really. What if… I wanted you to not be?” Drake raised a brow, “How do you mean?” “You’re always so perfectly restrained- self-control like steel. But I know you have that beast inside you, the feral part- I catch glimpses of it sometimes.”

Drake’s voice lowered to a hush, the sound caught between them, “I don’t want to hurt you.” “What if I want to be hurt, though?” His eyes suddenly went stone cold, “I won’t be your tool of self-harm.”

That’s what it was, of course that’s what it was. Drake was a gentle soul, despite his gruff exterior. He hated being a tool of violence, hated that it was what he was good at, and wouldn’t want to be with someone who used him for more, even like this.

Law shook his head, “That’s not what I mean. You can’t hurt me in any serious way, not with my powers.” He caught Drake’s eyes, impressing the truth of the statement on him, and he seemed to thaw at the reassurance, shoulders and brows both slumping. And what a strange man, to be comforted by a reminder of his own weakness- it was so endearing.

“You couldn’t even catch me if I didn’t want to be caught.” He switched himself with a pebble nearby to illustrate the point, before switching right back, leaning into Drake’s space.

He took Drake’s hands in his own, settling them solidly at his hips- the other man stopped breathing entirely. “I put myself in your hands because I know I’m safe here.” He shrugged, a wicked grin crossing his face, "…and I like the manhandling. I like it rough.”

There was a flash of something in Drake's eyes, pupils slitting for a moment, and he didn’t try hiding the shudder that ran through him then. That was exactly what he wanted.

The Drake that looked at him then was all fangs and claws and acid-yellow slit-pupiled eyes. “You’re sure.” It was half strangled question, half restrained growl. He dragged Drake down into a fierce kiss as answer, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck and fisting a hand tightly in his hair.

Drake growled lowly and responded, surging into the kiss- his hands pulled tight around Law, claws pressing lightly against the flesh.

There, that’s what he needed. Those large hands holding him down and holding him in, keeping him tethered to right here and right now. He relished in the thought of bruises blooming on his hips in the shape of those giant handprints.

There were deadly fangs pressing against his lower lip, sharp but restrained. Hell, those teeth did something to him. He pressed a cheeky kiss to a fang, and smiled into the kiss Drake devoured him in in response.

The other was making a rumbling noise deep in his chest- something absolutely not human in nature- and he adored it, shoving closer to feel its vibration in himself.

Law was fully atop Drake’s lap now, hard thighs underneath him, and the man grabbed his hips tight and yanked him the last few inches to press their chests solidly together, skin to skin.

He dragged his hands through Drake’s hair, enjoying the feel of it coarse in his fingers, and pulled tightly. A reptilian sort of hiss escaped the other, and Drake ground up into him, hips rolling. He gasped, mouth falling open, and Drake traveled slowly downwards, from the edge of his mouth down his jaw and throat.

He leaned into it, opening further for the gentle suction and scraping of teeth, hands pressing Drake closer even as he ground down onto the hardness he’d felt- it was… prodigious in size, and he absently wondered whether that transformed, too, before losing his train of thought as the other growled, teeth fixing on him.

He didn’t feel like prey, even as his throat was grasped gently between terribly sharp teeth. He felt incredibly powerful, knowing the owner of those teeth held back for him, knowing the kind of self-restraint Drake was having to exercise.

His pulse hammered against the skin, every beat taut like wire under the fangs, and he felt his breath come fast and shallow.

There was only the lightest pressure, before Drake continued down, pressing his mouth to his shoulder, tracing the tendon with his tongue. Law’s hands drew down Drake’s back, nails raking across hard muscle, and the other man growled again, teeth pricking gently at his flesh.

He encountered an obstruction, some row of buttons at the back of Drake’s pants. “Hell is with your clothes?” The man chuckled into his collarbone, “I do have a tail sometimes, remember. I prefer not destroying my clothes every time I loose it.” “Well, they’re in the way.”

One of Drake’s hands left his hip in favor of sliding lower, thumb running slowly up and down the length of his zipper. The friction was maddening.
Those teeth were at his throat again, and Drake hummed, voice gone husky, “You’re much easier to unwrap.” Law let his head roll back on his shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut, and pressed into the contact.

His world seemed to narrow to only where Drake was touching him, fire burning at his throat and hips and cock. It was such a gentle contact at the front of his jeans, just an undulating pressure, up and down, but he was hardening quickly. “Touch me.”

The other hummed again, nipping lightly at his pulse, and grasped the zipper, sliding it down infuriatingly slowly. That large hand took hold of his cock, fisting it in a tight heat that made his spine bow and drove a choked moan from his lips. Drake made a pleased rumbling sound in response, rubbed his thumb gently over the head.

Law shuddered, groaned, tugged Drake into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, hands framing his jaw. The other man started to jerk him, calloused hand sliding over his cock, the perfect pressure and friction- he moaned into the kiss, hands scrambling for leverage, dragging down Drake’s chest as he bucked into the touch.

Clever fingers danced along the hem of Drake’s pants, and he grinned against the other’s mouth in triumph at finding the set of hooks and eyes that held them together at the front. He was impatient in undoing them, intent on his prize, and all but shoved his hands into the other’s pants to grasp his cock.

Oh, it was big- he needed both hands to cover its length, and the head still protruded from his closed fist. Drake groaned, some half-growling noise, and his free hand skated up Law’s back to rest at the nape of his neck, tilting his head up to change the angle of the kiss to something truly filthy.

It was then Law decided he was tired of his pants, and they were gone- a pebble clattered to the floor instead. Drake chuckled in amusement, “Impatient.” “I’ve waited long enough.” He took Drake’s hand in his own, interlacing the fingers and securing their hands around both their cocks, the members tucked together, slick and hard.

Oh, it was perfect- he shuddered, leaned in to capture Drake’s mouth again. He licked inside, toying with the edges of those sharp teeth- he’d lost the rhythm already, but Drake luckily kept it up, steadily jerking both of them together. He moaned into Drake’s mouth, hips rolling to press them together.

Part of him wanted to be laid out and taken, but Drake clearly had more patience than him- the perfect gentleman, the perfect hunter- and he wouldn’t be able to stand the time it would take to prepare himself for something that big. Not just yet, although the thought made his cock jerk in anticipation.

Drake’s hand trailed down from his neck along his spine, the gentle brush of rough callouses drawing a shiver from him. It dipped low to get a firm grip on his ass, flexed to tilt him forward into the touch, and the feel of that large hand on him, the claws it was tipped with, god.

He wound a hand tight in the hair at Drake’s nape- he seemed to like his hair pulled- and the other growled again, rutting up against him with a shove of his hips, and Law’s breath caught, the sensation suddenly all too much.

An intense orgasm took him over, and he shuddered with the force of it, hips grinding helplessly into their hands as he spent, a groan trapped in his throat.
He bit down on Drake’s bottom lip, just enough to make it bleed, and the other followed him over the edge with a growl, shoulders hunching over him and cock spilling over their hands.

The other man looked feral now, hair disheveled from Law’s hands, sharp teeth bloody, eyes yellow and pupils slitted fiercely. His chest heaved, glistening with sweat from the heat radiating between them, muscles hard and rippling under the skin, and each heavy breath ended on a quiet growl. It was the hottest thing Law had ever seen in his life.

No power in the world could have kept him from Drake’s lips, then, and the force of the kiss took the air from his straining lungs. He laced his hands around Drake’s neck and pulled, leveraging them both down to the bed.

Drake held himself up on his forearms to keep from falling completely atop him- part of him was vaguely disappointed, wanting to feel the other’s weight on him.

He grinned, a bit feral himself, and murmured against Drake’s lips, “Fuck me.”

The other eyed him seriously, “You’re sure- you saw how big-“ Law bit his lip again in admonishment, drawing it into his mouth to lave his tongue over the tiny wound. “I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t want it. Now get in me.”

Drake licked his lips- something like anticipation and nervousness and hunger all rolled together. He was rather impractically large, and probably didn’t get much of this kind of action.

But that wasn’t going to stop Law, and if the man dithered any longer, he was going to take his fingers into his mouth. Actually, he might do that anyway, just to see the look on his face…

But Drake sat up, hands out of reach as he brought them to his belt. Law tightened his legs around the other’s waist, keeping him from getting up to finish undressing, “I like the leather.”

“I still need to fetch the grease- there’s no way this will work without it.” “Where is it?” “In the drawer.” “Where in the drawer?” A raised brow, as if asking, ‘Are you doing what I think you’re doing?’, but Drake indulged him. “Back left, atop a pot of muscle salve.”

He summoned a Room, the slightest twitch accomplishing his goal, and smirked, a small pot of grease now resting in his hand.

Drake took it, grinning knowingly, “I imagine you use your powers for that kind of purpose quite often.” He had no idea- this power had fully enabled Law’s laziness, and he constantly summoned things into his hand without getting up.

The satisfied smirk stayed on his face even as Drake pressed a single slicked finger to his rim- he’d even warmed the grease, how considerate. He massaged it gently, loosening the muscle carefully, and Law sank into the bed, deliberately relaxing himself.

He was still riding the post-orgasmic high, nerves singing and body buzzing and pliant under Drake’s hands. The other was gentle and there was no pain, although his fingers were large.

He made even this good for Law, stroking along his walls skillfully and teasing just enough pressure at his prostate to make his muscles quiver and his breath catch. Drake’s other hand petted him soothingly when he trembled, that rumbling noise quiet and constant in his chest.

But the anticipation built within him, the fire in his gut growing higher with every stretch. By the time Drake fit three large fingers easily inside him, he was just about ready to push the other over and take what he wanted.

Drake, perhaps knowing how close his patience was to snapping, deemed him ready and withdrew. The sudden emptiness only made him even more hungry for it.

With another twitch of a finger, the grease was once more in his hand. He grinned devilishly, “I want to do this part.”

The other man’s cock was fully hard again, the vein on the side pulsing under his thumb. Drake’s eyes were intent on his hands as Law worked the grease over every inch of him. As impatient as he was, he paid very close attention to his work, enjoying the way Drake had to slow his breathing to keep it steady.

He did push Drake over then, the other settling easily on his back. “Let’s start this way.” He took Drake’s cock in hand, felt its hard girth in his fists as he straddled the other’s hips.

He tucked the cock flat to his own stomach, measuring absently how deep it would penetrate, and licked his lips in anticipation, hole twitching with the sheer want in his gut.

He lifted up above it, positioning himself- Drake’s hands drifted to his hips, steadying- and slowly sank down.

Oh, hell. The breath was forced out of him in a moan as he was spread wide around the cock, but he kept going, intent on taking it all. This was, without a single doubt, the most well-endowed man he’d been with.

He couldn’t help the breathy whine that escaped him then, fully seated on Drake- his cock felt massive within him, stretching him past what he thought himself capable of, and his breath hitched in little ‘ah-ah-ah’ noises.

The man held him gently, thumbs rubbing careful circles on his hips, and he spread his hands over Drake’s chest, bracing himself.

Law rolled his hips slowly, trying to get used to the stretch, and let his head fall back as the sensation built into intense pleasure. He lifted slightly, let himself fall again, and gasped as it hit somehow deeper, striking nerves like lightning.

Drake gritted his teeth with a curse- the first he’d heard from the other’s mouth, and he was determined to make sure it wasn't the last- but remained valiantly still, muscles taut as he refrained from bucking up into him, letting him set the pace to adjust.

But Law had no patience for that- it was so good, so good, but it wasn’t enough. He needed- he needed to be held down, to be fucked until he broke.

He rolled his hips once more teasingly, “Come on, Drake, fuck me- fuck me hard.” Drake growled, his hands turning into claws once more, and tightened his grip, dragging him down onto his lap and grinding that cock up into him. Law bit his lip over a broken whine, settling his hands over the other’s and urging him closer closer closer.

Drake rolled them over suddenly, pressed him into the bed, and did exactly as Law had demanded. He fucked him deep and hard- he fucked the thoughts out of his head entirely, anything but ‘more’ and ‘harder’ and ‘oh god’ gone from his vocabulary.

Eventually, Law was reduced to fractured moans and whines, voice breaking over the pleasure that crested through him again and again. He just clung to the other, legs crossed over his back and dull nails drawing divots in hard muscle, hanging on for dear life through the intensity of it.

Drake was relentless, thrusts perfect- he was so big, and it hit everywhere within Law, striking his prostate with a strength and frequency that made him shudder uncontrollably. His cock was caught between their bodies, the friction driving him higher and higher, and oh-oh-oh-!

An orgasm ripped through him viciously- his entire body seized with the force of it, hands clutched desperately in Drake’s hair, and he choked on a moan, feeling his own spend coat his stomach.

The other slowed, noticing he’d come, and Law clutched his legs tighter around him, urging him on, “Oh, oh, keep- keep going- ah-“ He was oversensitive now, in the wake of his orgasm, and everything was so much, too much, and it was glorious.

Drake huffed but obeyed, continuing to jackhammer into him, and Law tossed his head back and took it, reveling in the half-mad pleasure of overstimulation. He was utterly shameless now, moaning openly as Drake took him apart again. One large hand grasped his hip, pulling him back into every thrust, and the claws pressed into the small of his back only added to the tsunami of sensation.

Drake was getting close- his rhythm faltering, thrusts more desperate, harder and uncontrolled. He grasped onto Drake’s arms, keeping him close, “Don’t you- ah- dare pull out-“ The other looked at him, “You want- inside?” “Hah- do it!”

He thrust a few more times, deep and savage, then shuddered and seated himself fully inside Law with one last solid thrust, hips grinding intoxicatingly against him as he spent.

Law bit his lip at the extra fullness, eyelids fluttering shut with a low groan, and was tossed over the edge into a third, dry orgasm.

He came down shuddering, gasping for breath, hands almost numb with how tightly he’d grasped.

He ached in all the best ways, limbs gone loose and boneless, still quivering slightly. He patted Drake’s chest, and huffed a breathless laugh, “Oh, I’m keeping you." He was rewarded with the other’s face flushing bright red.

He was reluctant to loose his legs, somewhat unsure if they would obey him, given how fried his nerves seemed- part of him also wanted to savor the fullness, the too-much stretch of Drake inside him.

Still, he didn’t object when the other slid out carefully, leaving his hole clenching around nothing, and he shuddered again at the feeling.

He let Drake clean them both off, that smug, satisfied grin never leaving his own face, and they laid together in comfortable, sated exhaustion.

Chapter Text

He was doing it again. The insufferable bastard was doing it again. Law was trying to pay attention to his notes, to the very important discussion he and Drake were having, and Drake kept distracting him! The infernal fool didn’t even realize he was doing it, surely- the pad of his thumb slipping between just-too-sharp teeth to be gently gnawed on while the large man was deep in thought- but it was driving Law slowly insane.

Every glimpse of fang, the indenture of flesh beneath it, made him wish it was him between those teeth. Every place Drake’s teeth had pressed and dragged and held during their previous encounter seemed to come alive, burning at his skin. 'Just tonight', his past self mocked in his head- sure, whatever.

And- god fucking dammit- Drake had accidentally pierced his thumb, tongue quickly swiping away the bead of blood that appeared. Law couldn’t take it any longer.

Luckily, as a pirate, he was accustomed to taking what he wanted. So he did- he stood up, making his way around the desk to where Drake sat, now glancing at him with head tilted, and fisted his hands in Drake’s collar, dragging him into a kiss.

It only took a moment for the other to get the picture and respond, twisting away from the desk and leaving his papers forgotten atop it. Drake tasted like the tea he’d been drinking earlier, bright and herbal, and just a bit bloody- his teeth were sharper than a human’s should be, and Law leaned in further, chasing the sensation.

His hands tangled in Drake’s shirt, eager to touch, and he slid into the other’s lap, straddling his legs. Drake accepted the intrusion eagerly, one large hand settling on his thigh, fingers pressing in a firm grip on his flesh. The other slid up his back, urging him forward. He melted into it, leaned into Drake’s chest, wound his fingers in the man’s hair.

The itch that had been plaguing him faded away into pleasure, bubbling and warm, and he felt drunk on it even as he had to pull back, both of them panting to catch a breath before coming back together as if drawn there. Drake clearly was making good use of his unidirectional reptilian lungs, not having to breathe as frequently, but the lightheadedness from trying to match him wasn’t honestly as much a downside as Law first thought. He almost felt tipsy from lack of air, off-balance and uninhibited.

He ground down onto Drake’s lap, relishing in the friction of denim against his straining cock. The hardness underneath him was tantalizing, the suggestion of the girth, and he enjoyed the tease. The other left his mouth, traced sharp teeth against his jugular, tasting his pulse, and he hummed his pleasure.

Suddenly, the hand Drake had propped at the back of his neck fisted in his hair, tugging his head back, and those teeth fastened around his exposed throat- the sound that forced itself from him was half shock, all pleasure, and his hands scrambled to press the other closer.

He felt the grin against his pulse, then, and Drake murmured, “Figured you’d like that.” He rocked forward as answer, humping against him with an increasing desperation. With one movement, Drake had ramped up the tempo from lazy makeout to burning desire, and Law made a mental reminder to be irritated later at how easily the other read him. For now, however, he had better things to do.

Drake’s other hand dropped to his zipper, but made no move to release him, palm instead cupping him through the denim, and he whined, rutted into his hand in uneven jerks. Being trapped like this, Drake’s teeth tight around his throat, was… god. He burned with want. “Touch me already, dammit- get your hands on me.”

That hand pressed closer, giving him the pressure he needed to grind into, but only for a moment, before sliding up away from his groin. It tucked up under his shirt, rough skin against his sensitive, heated flesh- a finger slipped beneath his waistband for a single tantalizing moment, but the hand continued on its path.

The heat of him blazed a trail across Law’s torso, up from his belly over his chest, his shirt rucking up and exposing him- that large palm cupped his pectoral, thumb skipping gently over a nipple, and he gasped, spine bowing back to lean into the touch.

Drake made a noise, something pleased, and bent to him, that hand in Law’s hair pressing him forward, and there was a hot mouth on his chest, lips roving over the skin, one hand still spread over his side, holding his shirt up to his clavicles. Drake traced his ink, tongue searing hot- Law’s hands flexed on the other’s back, grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer closer closer, trying to bring Drake exactly where he wanted him.

Blazing yellow eyes looked up at him teasingly, and the other took his sweet time, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, sucking light bruises into the flesh, nipping gently with sharp teeth. Every touch was enough to light his nerves on fire, but it wasn’t enough, and Law was greedy, impatient.

Finally, Drake’s mouth closed over his nipple, fangs scraping lightly as he gave it a testing suck, and Law had to bite his lip over the pitiful whimper that escaped his own mouth.

That apparently did something to Drake, because suddenly he was standing, pupils slitted with focus, Law held up against him as if he weighed nothing.

The sound Law made when Drake put him up against the wall was truly embarrassing, something high and desperate, but the other only growled in response, hitching Law’s legs up over his waist. He crossed them at the ankles, tugging Drake in and grinding their hips together, seeking out the other’s mouth in a sloppy, demanding kiss.

He brought his hands to Drake’s jaw, sliding one around to curl into his hair- he knew Drake liked that, and sure enough, the other leaned further into him, consuming him in the kiss, pressing him deeper into the wall and folding him there.

When their mouths separated, he insisted, “Fuck me here, like this.” Drake huffed, nipped at his lip, a gentle chastisement, “Making me do all the work, hm?” Law ground his hips teasingly, smirked, “Tell me you don’t like me like this.” He chased Drake’s mouth once more, speaking between kisses, “Eager.” “Hungry.” “Helpless.”

Drake actually snorted, “‘Helpless’, sure.” He nipped teasingly at Law’s jaw, tilting his head up to trail gentle kisses down his throat. “If you want to play the damsel, I’ll go along with it.”

The mouth against his clavicle curved into a grin, “Would my ‘helpless damsel’ like to fetch the grease?” A huffed laugh, and the pot was sitting in Drake’s waiting hand, Law’s pants gone just like the first time. The other chuckled, “Do you ever undress normally?”

He raised a brow, smirked devilishly, “That would require you to put me down. And I don’t think you want to do that right now.” The firm grip Drake had on his hips, the imposing hardness pressing against his own, the way the other’s pupils had blown wide, certainly said any distance between them would be intolerable at the moment.

Drake motioned to his tank top, “Going to magic this away, too?” “Nah, just as fast this way.” He leaned away just long enough for Law to tug his shirt off, then Drake’s attention went back to his chest, mouth searing hot and clever on his skin as his hand lowered, fingers gently stretching Law open.

Then something changed, and he glanced down- sure enough, Drake’s tongue had extended in his mouth, grown long and textured, tapered to a blunt tip. Law brought a hand to it curiously, traced the slick length, and it wrapped around his finger, Drake’s eyes teasing.

Oh, he just knew that tongue could do incredible things- they’d have to explore later, when Law wasn’t so distracted by ‘get inside me now’. “No forked tongue?” Drake rolled his eyes, tongue drawing back, “Not a lizard.”

He pressed fangs to Law’s throat, seemingly in admonition at getting reptilian anatomy wrong, but god, the pinch of teeth, the way he could feel his flesh stretch, nearly give, beneath them- it was delicious. He rocked into Drake’s fingers, bared his throat, “Mnn, harder. Make me bleed.” Drake chuckled, “I think not. My teeth are for tearing flesh and crushing bone.” He pressed a gentle kiss at the hollow of Law’s throat, murmured, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That phrase again. Law wanted to push it further- wanted the pleasure-pain of teeth in his flesh, wanted to see his blood on Drake’s mouth- but the larger man was suddenly very insistent with his clever fingers, and he let the subject slip away for now in favor of making his approval known.

Drake was lucky he was so skilled with his hands, because Law was not a patient man when it came to pleasures of the flesh, and he was grinding impetuously down on those fingers before long. Still, when they left him, he barely restrained the whine.

“Ready?” He pulled Drake closer as answer, heels solid against his back. The larger man was gentle with him, slowly working his cock in inch by inch, considerately distracting Law from any discomfort by paying loving attention to his chest, kissing and sucking and nipping until there was nothing but sensation and heat between them.

And then he was fully seated, and it was the only thing Law could focus on. Oh, the angle this way… he dropped his head against the wall, mouth hanging open dumbly, panting, and fingers gripped tightly onto Drake’s shoulders.

He couldn’t even muster a workable thought for what felt like forever, brain overwhelmed entirely by oh god-oh hell-so much-so deep-so good. Every sensation felt more intense, somehow closer even than his skin.

Sharp teeth pricked at his throat, Drake’s hot breath raising goosebumps on his flesh. He shuddered, groaned, wound his fingers in Drake’s hair, pressed the other’s head closer. God, he had such a thing for Drake’s teeth. Those claws dug into him, one at his hip and the other pressing into the meat of his thigh, spreading him open wide.

He nodded, and Drake took the signal to move, starting with a gentle grind into him. Gravity helped, the weight of him seeming to press Drake’s cock impossibly deep, and his legs trembled. Law urged him on, and was pressed further into the wall as Drake drove into him, the thrusts pressing stars into his vision, the larger man holding him still between his teeth.

The world around them seemed to drop away entirely. The pressure of it, the wall behind him and Drake surrounding him, inside him, holding him up- hell, it was something else. When Drake shoved up into him, it was rough in the best way possible, and the way he rolled his hips ensured Law felt everything.

Drake nipped at his shoulder again, growled lowly, “You look so good like this, folded under me. Next time, I’ll bend you in half, fuck you into the floor.”

He shuddered with want. “How about you put that silver tongue to use? I want to choke on it.” If Drake refused to bite him, he should at least be doing something with his clever mouth. Drake huffed, ground up into him again. “Such a brat. Maybe I should shut you up.”

Law tilted his head up, daring him, and Drake’s hand fit firmly at the back of his neck, pulling their mouths together. Sharp teeth pressed against his lip, and a long, thick tongue spilled into his mouth, quickly filling it.

He did choke then, but quickly wrangled his gag reflex under control and leaned into it, groaning around its girth. His eyelids fluttered shut, hips stuttering as he unconsciously bucked forward. He was deepthroating Drake’s tongue now, the organ just as large as any cock, and he just melted into the overwhelm of it all, fucked into at both ends.

He could feel the smug grin on Drake’s lips, contemplated biting his tongue, then moaned around it instead as the other gave him a particularly deep thrust. Drake growled in satisfaction, low in his throat, hips snapping up into him again and again, and Law made choked little gasping noises, breath lost to almost nothing around the thick tongue.

His head grew light again, thoughts dizzy and disorganized with both the pleasure and the loss of oxygen, and before he knew it, Drake drew back, the obstruction retreating from his mouth. He followed with a raw sort of whine, missing the pressure, and was met with a deep kiss, hungry and devouring.

He panted into it, interrupted by little hiccuping gasps at Drake’s thrusts pounding into him. His voice was too gone to make words, throat raw and sore, and the only sounds that escaped him now were breathy and hoarse, senseless whines and whimpers. He’d been reduced to a frenzied, trembling mess, thoughts melted away into nothing but sensation searing his nerves.

Drake’s rhythm changed, becoming harsher and less controlled, and Law cried out, tossed his head back to the wall, clung to him, helplessly riding the waves of pleasure as they crashed over him. Drake growled, teeth closing around his throat once more and pinning him in place, fucking into him savagely.

Law whimpered as he came, clenching uselessly around the other’s cock, and Drake followed, teeth pressing just that bit harsher but stubbornly still not puncturing, hips welded to Law’s own and grinding every last drop into him, both of them shuddering through the aftershocks.

Drake released his throat, tongue laving apologetically over the pressure marks he’d left, breathed out a comfortable sigh and tucked his head against Law.

He hummed, finally getting to savor the fullness of the other inside him- just on the border of too much, and pleasantly so. The weight of Drake pressing him into the wall made something in his brain go quiet, a comforting pressure, and the man’s hands were still steady and firm on his hips.

They both knew the moment would be over once Drake pulled out, once his spend began dripping from Law and they had to clean up, and neither were eager to rush this.

Drake raised a brow, lifting his head from Law’s shoulder, “So what was it about military cannon strategy that got you all hot and bothered?” “I stopped listening early on. Your teeth were too distracting.” “My-“ Drake snorted a laugh, and Law couldn’t help the answering grin crossing his mouth.

The kiss they shared was deep and slow, comfortable and sated, and Law traced his tongue over those sharp teeth, smirked against Drake’s lips, “I’ll get you to bite me eventually.” Drake only flushed in response, hiding against his skin once more.

Chapter Text

Law was confident in his preparations for this meeting, after several encounters with Drake. He’d taken to wearing his kimono when he planned for them to meet (less to take off, of course). Drake didn’t seem to have caught on yet, although Law didn’t miss the way the other appreciated the garment on him.

The larger man had frozen solid the moment Law popped into the clearing where he'd been waiting (with papers and maps Law had no intention of getting around to), and now simply stood transfixed, eyes caught at the area where that fabric bordered his skin, much too low for a properly worn kimono. Law deliberately let it fall a few inches more, enjoying how easily he'd driven the usually stoic man to such flaming embarrassment.

Drake’s face was steadily deepening in shade, and his hands twitched at his sides- no doubt he could smell Law’s arousal. He knew how the other worked by now, knew how long he had to solidify the outcome of this situation, and acted while Drake was still stunned, taking that last stride forward and pushing him down.

He wasted no time in climbing into Drake’s lap, straddling him. Drake choked, one hand on his hip and the other behind himself, holding them both up. “Here? Are you sure?”

Law raised a teasing brow, “You’re the one with amazing observation haki. Is there anyone around?” He took Drake’s hand in his own, brought it into the fabric, until it rested where the two sides of the garment came together just above the belt. His abdominal muscles quivered under the touch, Drake’s hands cold- always cold until they got worked up, his reptilian metabolism conserving heat- and his stomach fluttered with anticipation beneath.

It took a long moment for Drake to answer, pupils wide in focus and struggling through a caught breath, “No, but your crew will be expecting you.” “We can be quick- I prepared for this.” He smirked, hoping the other caught what exactly that meant.

The realization didn’t take long- Drake’s eyes flicked up to his, pupils blown wide in shock. “You- you already-“ His hands became claws then, teeth growing sharp. Law licked his lips, grinning wickedly, and Drake huffed, “You’re insatiable.”

He hummed, leaned into Drake and pressed a kiss to the pulse under his jaw, let his hands trail down his chest (measuring how far down the flush went) to dance at his belt, “No, you definitely sate me. And I want you to do it again now.” Drake growled, captured him in a deep kiss, and the fire in his gut burned hot and bright.

The hand on his chest lifted away, dragging the loose belt finally open and exposing him to the air. It remained for a long moment, tracing the revealed flesh and considerately warming up against Law’s heated skin before drifting to cup his ass, tugging him firmly atop his lap, and Drake’s legs pushed his wider. His hand slid further, fingers delving to test the slicked hole- already prepped, as promised.

The kiss broken off, teeth traced his clavicle possessively, no doubt Drake thinking of Law fingering himself, making himself ready for him, as he slipped two digits inside, then three. Law moaned aloud, eyes fluttering shut, ground down onto his hand, nails digging into his shoulders, and bit his lip over a gasp when those fingers curled, driving white into his vision. He cursed, “Come on, I’ve been so patient.”

A quick nip at his trapezius stole his breath before he could say any more, and Drake’s large fingers slid away from him. He rolled his hips again, impatient, and the other pressed a kiss to his shoulder, easing back slightly. “Not so fast, I’ll give you what you want.”

Drake fidgeted under him, struggling with his belt, and grumbled, “Do you genuinely have a thing for my leathers? Because at no point when we’ve fucked have I actually gotten them off before you were bouncing on my cock.” Law only hummed, actually thinking about it- was it really a kink, or was he just too impatient to actually let Drake fully undress?

Right now, it was certainly the latter, although that wasn’t enough to convince him to move and make things easier for Drake, or to be any help at all, really. There was little more entertaining than getting the other all worked up, and he could only smirk at watching Drake have to fight past the lingering shock of effectively having been tackled for sex.

Finally, Drake’s cock was freed from his stupid leather pants, and he was clearly losing his patience as well, with the speed he slicked up. Still, that iron-clad self control was evident in the way he lined up and carefully inched his cock into Law, gripping his hips to keep him from shoving down onto it like he so wanted to.

Fuck, that cock, those hands, the hot breath on his neck, Drake having tucked his face into Law’s shoulder to breathe through it… Already, it was threatening to derail his thoughts entirely.

Finally, Drake was seated deep within him, the press of him just on the edge of too much in all its pleasurable fire. Stillness reigned for a long moment, Drake considerately letting him adjust, one hand steady on his hip and the other riding slowly up and down his spine, counting each vertebra with gentle, calloused fingers. They were still slightly cold, Drake’s lower body temperature not yet taken in Law’s heat. Before too long, those fingers would burn against his skin, and he had yet to figure out if it was the temperature or simply how ridiculously sensitive Drake made him.

He nodded, breathing deeply around the intrusion, and Drake started grinding gently up into him, not enough to throw sparks but enough to make him melt into the sensation, eyes fluttering shut.

The grind grew into a low rock, barely moving in and out, and Law hummed contentedly and tipped his head back, baring his throat. Drake took the offering, kissing along its length, settling teeth against his pulse. The points at his jugular suddenly drew all of Law’s focus, each loud thud of his heartbeat emphasizing the press of those teeth into his flesh, so close to breaking the skin.

He tilted further, digging hands into Drake’s hair and dragging his head close, rolling his hips down into Drake’s, “Hah, do it- c’mon. Quit teasing and just bite down.”

Drake stilled suddenly, drew back to look at him, and Law barely restrained the noise that meant ‘don’t you fucking stop now’ in his throat. There was something awed in the other’s voice, “You really meant it when you said you wanted me to bite you.”

Those blue eyes scanned over his face, searching, and he raised a brow, “You thought I didn’t?” Drake huffed, visibly thrown off, “I… thought you didn’t realize the enormity of what that means, to a beast.” “My officers are all some kind of animalistic. I know.” He knew exactly the sort of claim it represented- and he wanted it.

Drake stared at him another moment, muttered something under his breath- something deep and smooth with rolling ‘r’s, definitely not in Grand, and it made something twitch pleasurably low in his gut- then shook his head, switched back to Grand, “You’re trying to turn me feral.” Law just winked.

Drake hummed, thumbs pressed hard into the divots of Law’s hips, keeping him from grinding down, forcing him to simply accept the girth of the cock resting unmoving inside him and driving him to utter distraction. “A trade, then. You get my teeth, like you’ve been begging, and I get to take my time with you.”

Law missed the look that flashed in Drake’s eyes- he was busy trying not to pout at being held still, the other’s cock heavy in his gut taking up most of his attention, “Aren’t you the one who was worried about taking too long?” Drake purred lowly, nuzzled his cheek teasingly, remained infuriatingly still within him, “My crew knows how to be patient. Does yours?”

A huffed laugh broke from Law’s mouth- no, they didn’t (and neither did he, really). He’d be facing endless mockery from his officers- but weighing that against both finally getting Drake’s teeth in him and being raked over the coals til he begged… there was no contest. If Shachi and Penguin made too many jokes, he’d just stick their heads in a cabinet.

Still, if Drake thought he could call his bluff… he made a show of considering the offer, tucking a thumb between Drake’s lips and spreading them- the other helpfully bared deliciously sharp teeth in demonstration, and Law’s heart backflipped in his chest, hole unconsciously clenching around Drake’s cock, making the man hiss.

Those weren’t just predator teeth, they were the blunt sort of knives meant for tearing flesh and crushing bone, teeth that belonged in a maw big enough to eat him whole. They were utterly terrifying, making the part of his brain that had evolved from very small prey animals start to quiver, and God, he wanted to feel them in his flesh.

As answer, his hand slid back into Drake’s hair, fisting tightly in the thick strands, and pulled the other closer insistently, his own self-control having frayed. “I can’t promise to be patient.”

Drake hummed, teeth nipping gently at his throat, “Not a problem. I enjoy you impatient.” He enjoyed Law desperate, he meant- he’d figured out that Drake liked his partners loud, liked his prey to squirm in his grasp. Lucky, then, that Law enjoyed being loud and held down, enjoyed being able to do little more than squirm.

Drake moved again- finally, finally moved, fucking up into him slow and thorough, every steady thrust seeming to crash through Law’s body like a wave.
He clung to Drake, held in his lap like this, hands dug into his shoulders. The heat between them was overwhelming, every touch leaving a trail of fire on his skin, and oh, the press of Drake’s cock inside him was glorious, perfectly designed to take him apart.

Law squirmed on it, trying to press closer closer closer, and Drake took hold of his hips, claws wrapping almost completely around his torso- he really couldn’t deny what that did to him- and controlled the rhythm, steady and slow.

Fuck, there was something about being lifted like this, dragged up and down on Drake’s cock like this, like he weighed nothing at all, that was so fucking hot. He let himself be moved, falling into the mind-numbing pleasure lancing through him.

He didn’t think he’d been treated so gently before, although he did find he now understood the appeal of it. It felt as if his body had been turned to sweet, slow syrup- everything felt good and loose and heavy, his body limp and draped over Drake’s as the other rolled into him with the kind of patient, thorough intensity that was sure to drive him mad.

There was none of the usual desperation, the more-more-more of chasing the peak. It was all slow and gentle, sating something deep in him with every touch, waves advancing and retreating only long enough to make the next even more intense. He felt hedonistic in a way, lazy and satisfied and almost drunk off the pleasure.

And the sounds Drake pulled from him! In any other situation, with any other person, he would be humiliated by the shameless whines and cries that fell from his mouth. But there was no space in his mind for restraint now- only the simmering, overflowing pleasure that left him trembling and moaning into the deep, sweet kisses Drake devoured him in. He felt… wanted, desired, in a fundamentally primal way he’d never experienced before, and refused to acknowledge the way his eyes itched.

His hands shook where they clung to Drake’s back, blunted nails digging divots in the other’s skin as another fractured whimper escaped him. Drake scraped sharp teeth along his collar bone, following it with a trail of soft kisses, and murmured praise into his skin when he whined, rewarding him with a slow, deep thrust he swore he could feel in his lungs.

He was so good, Drake told him, so good and so sweet and so perfect and all the things he’d never associated with himself.

Drake laid them down, hands still exploring his body, claws gentle as they traversed his sweat-slick skin, always so gentle, like Law was something precious, to be handled carefully and treated well. He couldn’t stop shaking, the pleasure, the overwhelm, the sheer vulnerability… part of him wanted those claws to sink in and tear, just to not have to deal with the way the gentleness made him fracture inside.

They were everywhere, tracing his tattoos, his ribs, each light touch drawing muscle tight and making his breath come quick, and where that tongue followed, scorching heat overtook his senses, laving patterns across his collarbones and throat. The kimono spread around him like a puddle in its softness, and something about this state of undress made him feel entirely too sensual, debauched almost.

Every cell of him boiled, raw and oversensitive and aching under Drake’s touch, kept just at the edge of too-much for so long that he couldn’t think of anything but this, mind overcome entirely by pure sensation and utterly falling to pieces.

Then teeth dragged down his chest, those needles coming so close to puncturing he could cry. Before the thought could again be tossed from his head by another thrust, he hurried to catch Drake’s jaw, panting, “I need you to bite me now, or I’m going to genuinely lose my mind.” Please, treat me rough- I can’t handle the gentleness.

The other stilled once more, and Law swore he didn’t whimper, didn’t even come close to begging him to keep going. Drake hummed, eyes traveling over his body, now trembling and sweat-soaked. “Where?” His heart leapt with anticipation, picturing marks all over his body, teeth pressed into his flesh- anywhere, he almost said. Eat me.

His head was swimming, and he could barely string together words, but somehow, he wrangled enough of his mind to answer, “Somewhere I can see in the mirror.” Something he could keep. He stretched his torso out, putting all of himself on display, watched Drake to see where he chose.

Drake bent, the movement shifting his cock inside him, pressed light kisses trailing down his torso. They tickled, the muscles jumping under the flesh at each gentle touch, and Law valiantly remained still, all of him focused on this moment.

As he went, Drake looked up, eyes fixing on his own even as those blue irises bled to blazing yellow, and nosed at his ilium jutting from the skin, the hip bony and angular. The breath caught in Law’s chest- he licked his lips, watching intently, teeth gritted in greedy anticipation.

Drake mouthed over the bone, first only dull human teeth against it, before he breathed out a low growl and there were fangs encircling Law’s hip, sharp and deadly and gleaming in the dappled sunlight. The other was really giving him what he’d asked for, those too-large predator teeth dangerous against his skin, gape wide enough to encompass his pelvis.

Large hands settled on his waist, holding him firmly to the ground. A moment of hesitation, molten yellow eyes caught on his, one last ‘are you sure?’, then Drake pressed in all at once, teeth sinking deep into the flesh.

Law winced at the pain, choking on a moan at the overwhelming sensation of it, the thought of it- what he’d see in the mirror when this healed, the reminder of Drake like this, sharp and covered in his blood, teeth embedded in him. The claim, what it meant, both of them looking at this and knowing every time. Knowing he was marked, knowing Drake had taken him in more than one way, pressing teeth into his flesh while his cock still rested inside him.

Fuck, it was the most delicious ecstasy- it was everything he’d hoped for when he’d first pictured Drake’s teeth in him. All of him wanted to open up and put sound to this perfect pinnacle of sensation, pleasure and pain mixed irrevocably.

Still, he didn’t look away, eyes fixed- lungs straining around breath that had frozen in his chest, unwilling to miss a single moment of this experience. The ice water of prey-adrenaline had been dumped full-force into his pumping veins, the knowledge of a predator with teeth in his flank, and still it burned, the white-heat radiating out from the wound, an almost-numbness from flesh shocked suddenly to life. But neither sensation, as much as they frayed at his mind, could overwhelm the triumph, the desire flooding him.

Later, Law would ensure the wound scarred pretty, would ensure it took as long as possible to heal, would curl his fingers like claws and press them into the scabs and open them bloody, other hand wrapped around his cock, cut-off noises choking his throat as he tried to relive this moment.

But here and now, the pain and the wound were both fresh and he’d hardly ever felt so alive, blood boiling over within him and heart thudding fast and thunderous in his ears. His hips strained against Drake’s hold, trying and failing to buck closer in claws like steel, and those jaws held fiercely against his flesh, trapped in a grasp predatory and strong.

Then Drake pulled away from the wound, blood staining sharp teeth, open maw smeared red, and Law whined, dragged him into a desperate kiss, breath heavy with the wave of need that shot through him at the sight. He panted against Drake’s mouth, the coppery tang of his own blood coating his lips, ground his hips down against Drake’s as those claws abandoned their post to hold him impossibly tight.

“Ha- fuck me, fuck me hard. I want it rough.” Take me, claim me, make me yours. I want to feel your touch after it’s gone. The gentleness never stays long enough.

The other obeyed, shoved him down, taking firm hold of his hips and starting to slam into him, hard and deep and savage. He cried out, back arching into the pleasure, and Drake settled fangs around his throat again, holding him still as he thrust, folding Law beneath him.

Drake was more feral now, less severely controlled- the grasp of his teeth and claws bit slightly deeper against his skin, the rhythm of his thrusts a relentless, punishing pace that drove the breath from Law’s lungs and the thoughts from his head. Every thrust pressed him into the dirt, hips pounding into him and sharp teeth tight enough to steal his breath. He was so damn full, it felt like he was choking on it.

Law gasped and sobbed under the force of it, held helpless to do anything but take it, and God, it was better than anything had ever been.

Drake fucked into him hard, voice muffled against flesh, “Mine.” That growling rumble seemed to pour through him and jostle something loose in his soul, and suddenly he was cumming harder than he ever had before, utterly falling apart under Drake, an animal keen ripping from his throat.

The beast never stopped driving deep into him, Law’s quivering body contracting around him, taking Drake as deep as possible, drawing out the pleasure that spilled flooding from his body, wringing his nerves dry of all they had to give as the world dissolved around him into sensation he’d never be able to put into words.

For a moment, it felt like he left his body entirely, and didn’t quite fit properly inside it when he returned, nerves blown out and every cell seeming to ring unnaturally. The world moved around him, and- Oh, that was him, panting like he’d run across the world, seizing and whining with the aftershocks still rolling through him like all his veins were live wires. His legs twitched, every muscle pulled taut enough to pluck like a bowstring, hole clenching helplessly around Drake, the man shuddering down from his own climax and panting hot breaths against Law’s throat.

Drake released his teeth, pressing their foreheads together, holding him by the nape into this almost-embrace, their breath mingling between them. Something inside his soul felt full to overflowing, hot and liquid in its cracked vessel, and it escaped him in shivers, in twitches of abused muscles and nerves shot to hell.

Those large hands petted his trembling flanks, easing his ankles out of their rictus cross over Drake’s back. He wasn’t sure he had enough command over his limbs to move them, nearly boneless with pleasurable exhaustion, but Drake adjusted him carefully and slid out, despite the broken whine Law gave that meant he’d rather remain full for the moment. His hole clenched around nothing, a wet sensation dripping down his crack as seed spilled from him, and Law shivered again at the feel of it.

Drake settled firmly atop him, nuzzling into his throat with a growling purr, boxing him in with thick arms. Law just caught his breath, lying limp under the weight of him, and let his head be nudged to the side, comfortable with the heat of it, with being manhandled and cared for. He accepted the weight easily, the pressure over him making something in his head go quiet, and both just lay there, dazed and winded for a long moment.

-

Law was all long limbs and lean muscle, taut and quick and lithe, but he fit so well against Drake, just small enough to curl around, to shelter underneath his body. The beast calmed some, instincts settling with their mate safe and protected and claimed beneath them.

Their scents were mingled heady in the air, sweat and blood and cum shared between them, his mind pleasantly fuzzed with the beast’s satisfaction, and it drew him down to a sated sort of contentment, a low purr rumbling comfortable in his chest.

Time passed without them, Drake consumed only with scent and sensation, the warm body beneath his, and when a clever hand dug into his hair to scratch at his scalp, he leaned into it mindlessly, letting that hand coax his head up, to be met with a familiar smirk.

If he had more of his brain, he might have recognized the feline mischief in that expression, might not have responded with a dopey grin, because Law raised a brow, and parroted, “‘Mine’?”

Drake stilled, all pleasant haze gone as quickly as the tide- gods, had he- Oh, he’d been a fool, had gotten too carried away and overstepped the bounds of their agreement. Just because Law had offered his flesh to be claimed, it didn’t mean-

Before he could spiral too far in self-recrimination, Law took his hand and interlaced their fingers, and his eyes flew up, caught and held.

Law drew their joined hands to his hip, pressed them to the bloody wound there, and the other went to Drake’s mouth, fingertips tracing against teeth that had remained sharp despite attempts to force them dull again.

He smirked, that mischievous glint back in his eyes, and pointedly insisted, “Mine.” Oh. Very well, then. Law’s flesh was Drake’s, and Drake’s teeth were Law’s- fair enough.

Drake’s open awe must please Law, because the smirk settled into something a bit softer, a bit fonder, and he raised a brow in mock-question, “I mean, I’m all covered in blood. Aren’t you going to clean me up?”

He no doubt doesn’t know the enormity of what that means to Drake, how much of his life, his past, is wrapped up in that very request. Drake had spent most of his life with the taste of blood in his mouth. Ever since that day he’d woken up with the knowledge that he had consumed his own, that he was a predator in the truest sense of the word, it had been his steady companion through the years. He’d never escaped it, even in the most peaceful of moments.

But now… looking down at his lover, carrying his mark, covered in blood of his own volition and, yes, request… Drake didn’t want to escape the taste of blood. He wanted to learn to associate it with this man beneath him, with this moment of connection. Wanted to dedicate the teeth, the mouth, the other had claimed to their purpose.

As answer, he raised their joined hands to his mouth, beginning by carefully licking the blood from them, following the droplets with his tongue before they could stain more of Law’s skin. The whole time, their hands and eyes remained connected, the contact searing at him.

He was thorough in his task, regretfully separating their hands to take each finger into his mouth, savoring every inch of hot skin against his tongue, the clever digits that explored his sharp teeth. And if his own stained hand left marks where he’d already passed, then that was only more to clean.

He bent his head to the other’s chest, laving his tongue across the skin and slowly cleaning the blood from him. Law trembled under him, oversensitive and spent and still wanting more of his touch. His rib cage expanded with heavy breaths, that slight softness of his belly shivering as muscles contracted under Drake’s mouth.

This- this was what he enjoyed the most in sexual relations, beyond any pleasure- knowing what he did to his partner, being able to make them feel good and take them apart into a quivering mess under his hands and mouth.

He could tell Law things he couldn’t yet say aloud. If this flesh is mine, let me care for it, he said with his tongue. If this mouth is yours, let it worship you.

He glanced up at Law’s face flushed and red, hair soaked with sweat and lips swollen and blood-tinted, eyes intently following his every movement. He laved his tongue across the other’s nipple, took the peak into his mouth and gave it an exploratory nip, watched him nearly collapse, arms shaking under him, mouth falling open and breath going high and fast. A quiet whine escaped him, and Drake repeated the motion just to hear it again.

He was so beautiful like this- exhausted and oversensitive and needy, unable to hold back the noises Drake drew from him. Each sound was like nip to his predatory instincts, driving the need to hold and have and keep. He let his mouth shift once more, teeth fully sharpened and tongue long and reptilian. His lover’s eyes widened, and he licked his lips, dedicated himself to his task.

He worked his way down to the fresh wound, still slowly weeping blood, and lapped his tongue across its surface, enjoying the way Law’s spine bowed at the mixed pleasure-pain, the huffed whine carved raw from his throat.

Blood coating his tongue, hot and metallic in his mouth, Drake leaned up and pressed his lover into a kiss, trading the taste of it between them. Law sighed into his mouth, eagerly twining their tongues to share in his own blood, arms rising to wrap heavy around Drake’s neck and keep him there, slow and sweet and delicious.

Drake drew a hand down Law’s chest, claws lightly dragging across quivering abdominal muscles to grasp his cock, flagging and weeping in his hand. He savored the noise the other made against his lips, an almost-startled mewl, the way his hips stuttered into Drake’s hand.

The oversensitivity was no doubt painful by now, the wound at his hip throbbing without adrenaline to ease the sharp note of pain, but it didn’t stop Law from canting weakly into his grasp, arching against him, arms clasped tightly around his neck.

This wasn’t the heady, feral ecstasy that had swept them up earlier, but something exceedingly vulnerable between them, all raw and open and too exhausted and desperate to hide anything.

Drake raised a brow, half-teasing, half-question, “You asked me to clean you up, didn’t you?” The way Law watched him, pupils blown wide, panting gone just that bit heavier, was answer enough, and Drake slid a single finger into his loosened hole, thoroughly enjoying the broken whimper that fell from his lips, the way his head fell back as if he couldn’t hold it up.

Fuck, he was so wet inside, full of Drake’s cum, and the thought made him growl possessively, the beast urging physical impossibilities. He brought the finger to his mouth, giving his senses over to the heady taste of them both to distract the beast.

Law made a noise, something greedy and wanting. The meaning couldn’t possibly be any clearer, and he obliged, delving deep once more- Law’s eyes rolled, lids fluttering as he sucked the digit clean, and Drake had to restrain himself again.

Gods, he wanted- he wanted more of this, that gorgeous, wordless pleading, the way Law whined and trembled for him. He shoved two fingers back into that loose hole (he did that, he’d worked that tight hole open to fit him perfectly) and alternately rubbed the seed into the walls, pressing deep and massaging it against the flesh, and fed it to Law, savoring that hot mouth around his fingers. The beast rumbled contently, the filthy, wet noises and weak whimpers sating its primal lust.

He took it slow, intent on every twitch, every shudder, every pitiful noise he drew from his lover. Law clung to him, all wrecked and fucked open under him and melting into his hands, and Drake carefully and thoroughly took him apart one breath, one stroke, one taste at a time.

Law had by this time given up on trying to kiss him, only holding their heads together like the contact was the only thing holding him together, and Drake rumbled comfortingly, nuzzling against his skin, drawing fractured moans and whines from his mouth.

Savoring the simple, single-minded pleasure on his lover’s face- not a stray thought past here and now remained in his head, Drake was sure. To be able to quiet that clever mind, usually a dozen steps ahead, and bring him back to the animal base of him, just to feel…

He pulled Law through a final, shuddering orgasm, watching eagerly as it wrought its work across his lover, body wholly trembling, eyelids fluttering, jaw dropped and mouth open and head tipped back in ecstasy.

The way he lost control and fell apart was breathtaking, and the triumph of being the one responsible for it better than any release. He hadn’t missed the way Law shied away from the careful touches, insistent on being treated roughly, like he wasn’t something to be cherished. One day, he would accept all the gentleness Drake had to offer, and not think himself unworthy of it.

-

The second orgasm wrung Law of everything he had left, squeezed dry of every drop of energy he could muster, more blissed out than he’d ever thought he could achieve.

It took longer, this time, to come back to himself, to trust his brain to carry a thought to completion- long minutes of drifting in a haze of buzzing, satiated afterglow had eventually deposited him back into his exhausted, aching body, comfortably settled under Drake’s weight.

Flaming hair tickled at his temple, half-lidded blue-gray eyes passing over his skin lazily. He wasn’t sure Drake even noticed that it had been those molten yellow eyes staring at him like he was the most delicious meal, almost mesmerizing in their intent glow.

The attention on him, solely on him, had made something inside him squirm, vulnerable, before his focus was lost entirely to pleasure, but he was sure he’d continue to see that intent gaze in his mind, thoughts working it over to interpret what it meant, which of the two beings was watching him at that moment, which he hoped was watching him.

Utterly dazed and half-conscious, he sighed, “Hell. If that’s you feral…” Half amazement, half smug triumph- he’d known the beast was worth chasing.

Drake hummed, pressed a gentle kiss to his clavicle, seemed to have to work to find his human mind before speaking, “You know… it can get even bigger, if you wanted to try sometime.” Law scoffed, offense driving him to weakly flick the back of Drake’s head, “You only say that after I can’t possibly get it up again? You complain I’m impatient, but you make me that way.”

Another nip at his throat that made him jolt, and Drake rumbled that low purr again, that half-noise half-sensation that always made Law’s eyes go half-lidded, “Mmm. Incentive.” The other read him far too easily- it was a pretty damn good incentive. He just huffed and rolled to his side, tucking close against Drake’s chest, letting the other take on his weight.

Drake trailed gentle fingers down his spine, tracing tattoos he’d long memorized, and Law was nearly dozing against him, lulled down by sated exhaustion and warm arms around him, when the other’s voice came as a low, teasing rumble, “If I have to carry your unconscious form back to your crew, no one will be happy about it.”

Law groaned aloud. How cruel of Drake- drag him out of his mind with pleasure, then make him get up and act like a normal person again? As if he weren’t still shaky and weak, flooded with hormones that made him want to curl close and fall asleep?

If he complained, no doubt Drake would only remind him that he was the one who started this. …Would it really be so bad, to simply curl up against Drake’s chest and let the larger man carry him back?

Then his mind volunteered the teasing he’d receive from his seconds, Penguin and Shachi leaping into Bepo’s arms and performing hideously exaggerated mockery of him being carried like a damsel, and… yes, yes that was so bad.

The thought was enough to have him pulling himself up, pressing gauze over the wound and securing it there- he’d clean it properly later, once he’d gotten enough libido back to enjoy it.

Drake bunted his cheek against Law’s temple gently, affectionately, and murmured, “I didn’t mean for our meeting to turn bloody.” He pressed a kiss to the edge of Drake’s mouth, lapped up a last smudge of red there, “Mm, I got exactly what I wanted.”

And more, he hummed to himself, the wound at his hip aching in time with his heartbeat. He’d certainly be feeling Drake on his skin for a long time to come.

Chapter Text

It started between them, as most things did, with a fight. Calgara would probably call it sparring, but there was nothing of the regimented duels Noland had been trained in here. No, their combat was all raw, blood and teeth and sweat and closeness. Even before their lips first met, it had been more carnal than any tumble Noland had previously experienced.

And he would readily admit these fights were just as satisfying. How quickly Calgara had slotted into his life, like he’d always belonged there. How quickly the other learned to anticipate his blows, neither having to hold back, their fights seamless and sure as if they’d known each other for years.

Calgara relished in making him bleed, opening cuts on Noland’s arms and chest, pressing into them to make him wince and hiss. The bastard bit, too, anchoring teeth in Noland’s flesh and holding there, jaw locked, greedy and grasping; seemed intent on leaving marks, on carving himself into Noland’s skin the way he’d already done in his soul.

He made Noland’s adrenaline pump like nothing ever had, a sort of near-bloodlust he’d always prided himself on not giving over to in battle. And the line between one type of lust and another was growing fuzzier all the time, sometimes crossed without him even realizing it.

But the weakness was never lost on Calgara, seemingly, and he accordingly never failed to steal any advantage available to him. The only warning Noland got was the slight smirk suddenly edging at the other’s mouth before he was on his back, breath tossed from his lungs with a huff.

He gritted his teeth, made to twist and throw his opponent off before Calgara decided to think with his teeth, but froze when the pressure at his hips, the ache between them, all at once made itself known to him, very insistently.

Oh. His partner grinned down at him, all teeth, and rocked again, pressing down on the hardness beneath him. Noland tossed his head back, groaned, tried to catch hold, to get a grasp on anything through the sudden aching in his loins.

In his fumbling, he accidentally caught a hand in Calgara’s wing, managed to yank at the feathers- the other froze atop him, a shiver running tangibly up his spine. Noland jerked his hand away clumsily, “Ah- sorry, I di-“

But Calgara’s mouth was on his, all teeth and tongue, pressing into him like a wild thing, rutting against his belly, possessed with some quick fury that stole all of Noland’s sense, whipping it away like a harsh Northern gale, and he was left reeling in the eye of it.

“Again.” He didn’t catch the word at first, although in his defense, part of that was because it was less spoken and more bitten harshly into his lips. His brain was slow to catch up, and he blinked dully, and Calgara dug nails into his shoulders, growled into his mouth, “Do it again.”

Well. When he asked like that… Noland securely fisted a hand in those feathers, soft and plush, all presentation and no flight, and tugged firmly- Calgara arched, back bowing into his hand, chest thrust forward. A noise almost like an animal whine escaped his gritted teeth, and he trembled like a leaf in Noland’s hands.

For a moment, Noland could only stare, caught by how… strangely beautiful Calgara looked- his muscles heaving powerfully with every shuddering breath, the sweat trailing down his chest, the slight shiver in his hands where they dug at Noland’s shoulders. His own hand twitched for his charcoal, to draw the statuesque form, memorialize this sight forever.

But his partner’s feral energy was infectious, it seemed, because he surged up, instead, mouth clashing into Calgara’s with painful force. They rolled, first Calgara hitting the ground, then Noland again, earth and sky changing places unnoticed above them.

When they tore apart to breathe, Calgara was once more straddling him, hands pressing into his pecs as if holding him down with claws, his own digging bruising divots in dark skin. Calgara’s hair fell around them, obscuring the rest of the world from view (not that Noland could tear his eyes away, just then).

Sometimes he couldn’t help but compare the vibrant shade of Calgara’s hair to arterial spray, his eyes catching helplessly to it every time, expecting to see lifeblood there, spattering and bright.

His hand wound into that mane of blood-red hair, coarse and wild, pulled to expose his throat, and he bit down, recompense for the marks Calgara had littered his own skin with. Calgara hissed, nails dragging down his back like claws, pressed him closer closer closer, until the salt and musk under his teeth gave way to iron and heat.

He could feel the pulse, heavy and thudding like a drum under his lips, his own rising to meet it in a battle song that drove coherent thought from his mind, reduced him to a wild thing seeking only heat and pleasure, fulfillment in the warm body against his own.

When they kissed again, blood smeared across both their mouths like lions glutted with a kill, the metal of it sparking between them. Hands like claws, teeth like fangs, breathless and grasping and rutting like beasts. They rocked together, lost in each other, muffled growling noises in devouring kisses that stole breath and thought until there was nothing but this, nothing but them, here in this moment.

Noland crested the precipice with one hand digging into the sensitive spot between Calgara’s wings and the other bound with his partner’s around their joined cocks, spine arching into the touch, to press against Calgara wherever contact was possible. And his partner followed him over, teeth gritted and frame taut in a low keen as he trembled to completion.

Noland shivered, let his muscles go limp, hands settling atop Calgara’s thighs where they clasped tight around his hips, thumbs rubbing gently against hard muscle.

The stillness was magnified in the wake of the frenzied motion, Calgara bent over him, their foreheads tucked together and heavy breaths mingling, the curtain of red hair still hiding them from the world outside.

Noland was still bleeding, sluggishly now, thin stripes drawn by gravity across his prone figure, similar to the ones that graced Nola‘s back. Calgara’s eyes traced them, and he hummed thoughtfully, smudged a thumb in the blood, dragged it across Noland’s skin. His eyes were intent as he painted him, and Noland tried to be a good canvas, slowing his breaths to a steady rhythm, watching swirls and eyes and serpents and suns take shape on his skin.

For all the ferocity he’d shown earlier, Calgara was exceedingly gentle now, dedicated to his task as thoroughly as to a hunt. Noland couldn’t know what the symbols meant, hoped perhaps he’d be entrusted with the knowledge one day, but for now, he would just enjoy the closeness, the pleasant embers of warmth burning still in his veins, his limbs leaden and sated under the unseen warmth of the sun.

The deft hands climbed steadily up his chest, softly drawing patterns into his clavicles, his throat, his jaw. Something like a satisfied smirk edged at Calgara’s mouth, and he took more paint from the fresh wound at his throat, tracing his own blood on Noland’s lips, the same hot-bright scarlet of his hair, before settling a hand on his face.

Noland could feel the blood, tacky on his cheek- no intricate marks here, only Calgara’s handprint, cradling his jaw like something precious. Their lips met again, soft this time, deep and warm and searching, and Noland tasted their mingled blood on his tongue, savored it.

He wouldn’t be so bold as to ask what this meant to Calgara, but he knew very well what it meant to him, and tried to press all of that into the kiss. ’I’m here. I’m right here with you.’ And that was all that mattered, in this moment.

Chapter Text

Law’s blood was running hot, as he led Drake through the empty hall. He had plans for tonight- a surprise. He wasn’t under the illusion that he could genuinely surprise Drake- no doubt his lover could smell the anticipation and arousal on him.

Still, he could do his best- all Law had said was that he’d made ‘arrangements’ for that evening, and he would ensure Drake enjoyed it. And they’d arrived early for a reason. Law had been thinking about this for days, and was more than ready to begin.

His sex life was the best it had ever been, in all honesty. Drake was a very giving lover, and indulged his desires eagerly, even if Law had to cajole him into some of the bloodier ones. Still, he had certain urges that remained untouched. It would be nice to be told what he looked like, called out for the slut he was, but Drake wasn’t the type to say those things- the closest he’d gotten was calling him an ‘impatient fiend’ when Law had gotten a bit too handsy a bit too close to their crews.

It never stopped being endearing, how sweet he was, but sometimes Law’s tastes ran a bit darker than Drake was willing to fulfill. So Law had found a solution that he thought everyone would enjoy.

Drake let him nudge him against the wall, bring him down into a deep kiss. He did love it when Drake manhandled him, but the trust of the other letting him do it back was nice, too.

When they drew back, Drake raised a brow at him, “What is this about?” He trailed gentle kisses along the other man’s jaw, mischievous smirk irrepressible. “I can’t want to make out with you?”

Drake hummed skeptically, but tilted his head to allow better access, “You’re usually too impatient for that.” He nipped at the sensitive spot under Drake’s jaw, high at the top of his throat, and his lover sighed in pleasure.

“I’m trying to be… more patient.” His next words immediately contradicted that, however, “Although… I wouldn’t say no to riding your hand.”

In one smooth movement, their positions were switched, Drake shoving him up against the wall, and he could feel the smug grin against his throat. “I really don’t think you understand what making out is. It doesn’t usually involve penetration.”

Law huffed a quiet laugh, winding a hand in Drake’s hair and pressing him closer to his neck. “When has anything we do ever been ‘usual’?”

Drake made a reptilian sort of chuffing noise in response, nipped at his collarbone, and pulled back. “I didn’t bring any grease.” Law only grinned, “I can take care of that.”

He took one of Drake’s hands in his own, carefully untucked the end of his leather glove from the bracer where they met at the wrist and slid it slowly from his lover’s skin. Drake’s hand flexed in his own, as if unused to being bared- Law was one of a lucky few who got to see Drake without his gloves, although for the sake of what was coming, he left the bracers untouched.

He brought the hand to his mouth, pressed a playful kiss to the tip of the index finger before drawing it in, closing his lips around the second knuckle. Drake’s eyes were intent on his mouth, and Law sucked lazily on the digit, laving his tongue around the callouses on its surface.

Drake didn’t wait idly, but slid a leg between his thighs, giving him that delicious friction to rut against. He did so eagerly, rolling his hips into the hard muscle of Drake’s thigh, and took the middle finger into his mouth as well, moaning around them.

Drake’s thumb stroked along his jaw, gaze still caught intently on his mouth. He drew back, pressing forward with three fingers this time- Law took them greedily, his lips starting to stretch around the girth, saliva pooling on his tongue.

Drake rocked his hand forwards, backwards, fucking gently into his mouth, and Law leaned into it, bucking on the other man’s leg to show his appreciation. His feet were hardly on the ground, weight firmly settled on Drake’s thigh.

He felt utterly decadent, high on all of it- his kimono was askew, hanging from one shoulder, the belt threatening to come loose entirely where it barely hid him from view. And Drake’s eyes… he could feel the hunger in that gaze, and yearned to be consumed.

Finally, the fingers left his mouth- he gave them one last, tantalizing lick, eyes meeting Drake’s meaningfully, before he released them. Drake slipped his hand beneath Law’s kimono, teasing a light touch high on his thigh before descending. A single slicked finger pressed gently to his puckered hole- the heat, the wetness of it, that was his own doing- and he shivered.

The invasion was so gentle, so careful, and his body welcomed it eagerly, hips rocking in an attempt to take it deeper. Drake didn’t let him speed it up, however, continuing at his own slow pace. Even this was so good, Drake knowing exactly how to move to keep from causing Law discomfort, to make him fall apart.

The second finger tore a gasp from him, Drake starting to gently open him up, the pads of his fingers pressing and curling, making Law’s breath come heavy and uneven.

The third felt like too much, enormous inside him, and he bit his lip at the stretch, tipping his head back to the wall with a groan. His hands grasped at Drake’s coat, grounding himself in the leather, trying to tug the other man closer. He’d taken larger, of course, but without lube to ease the way, everything was so much tighter, every sensation more raw.

Drake’s fingers spread and twisted within him, rubbing at his walls in all the right ways, and he squirmed, grinding down onto his hand and making choked off noises. God, it was so good- and it could only be better knowing what was coming.

-

Despite having joked previously about his ‘damsel’, Drake had to admit he greatly enjoyed having Law like this, loud and desperate and wide open for him. The sounds, the scents, the way his face flushed and his eyelids fluttered, the way he bit his lip and moaned so pretty…

He tucked his head at the crook of Law’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, heady and thick with arousal- salt, fur, the bite of cold steel and ozone, a wisp of cigarette smoke.

Then, in the background, the scent of metal and machine oil filled his senses, sharp and acrid and familiar, and Drake stilled.

He cursed himself for not sensing them earlier, murmured against his lover’s temple, “We’re about to have company.” Law only wound his arms around his neck, pulling him closer yet, and smirked against his shoulder, “Let them see- I was waiting for them to arrive.”

So Law had planned this, then. Drake’s raised brow said, ‘Is this what you ‘arranged’?’ and he got a wink in response, as good as confirmation.

He only sighed when an abrasive shout met his ears, “Oh, you impatient bitch! Couldn’t wait five minutes to get something in your damn greedy hole?”

It was Kid, with Killer at his side as always. Neither looked surprised at their exposure, and Law greeted them with a feline smirk and a rude gesture.

Law and Kid had formed an interesting sort of bond, in the wake of Wano. One might think them bitter rivals, as they were always shouting and growling at each other, and Kid’s goading pressed Law’s buttons with a deliberate ease that even Strawhat didn’t manage.

But it was more than that- they challenged each other to improve, to work harder and be better. There was hot blood between them.

Drake felt his neck heat, but didn’t make any move to retreat- he had lived in Marine barracks long enough for any sense of embarrassment to be beaten out of him. And anyway, he wasn’t the one in a compromising position at the moment.

Law still somehow managed to look haughty and smug, even pressed against the wall with another man’s thigh between his legs. Drake’s fingers were still inside him, for fuck’s sake.

Killer gave him a friendly wave from behind Kid, and Drake did nod in return- it would be rude to not greet the other, after all, even if his hands were occupied.

Kid waved an expectant hand, impatient, “Well? Finish him off, then.” He looked to Law, who only smirked back, “You heard him- finish me off.” Well, if that was how they wanted to play it…

Drake settled his hand atop his thigh, using his leg as leverage to fuck into his lover, and Law gasped, “Oh! Yes, yes- that- hah-“

He wasn’t gentle or slow- a petty sort of punishment for the secrecy- but he knew Law liked it that way. Kid and Killer stood by, watching as if this were nothing strange at all, and Drake intended to give them a good show. He found the prostate easily, pressed fingers against it mercilessly, not relenting even as Law gasped and swore, head knocking back painfully.

Drake muscled him into the wall, crushing the smaller man against it and trapping him there, folding him beneath his larger frame. Law’s cock went untouched, even hard and aching as it was against the leather of Drake’s pants- since Law had decided to make decisions for him earlier, Drake was going to do this his own way.

He had his lover writhing and squirming before long, panting helplessly under his touch- Law clutched at him, clever fingers gone desperate and shaking, bared his throat for him.

Drake did indulge him in this way, letting himself be pulled in, settling his mouth at the pulse point high on his lover’s throat. His teeth went sharp, closing gently on the skin- not enough to puncture, but pressure enough to hold the other still against the wall as his hand worked.

Law shook under him, whimpered through a savage thrust, and he heard Killer smack Kid’s shoulder, “Ooh, look at his teeth.”

He resisted the instinctive urge to hide Law in his frame, cover him from the others’ view- he wanted them to see this, wanted them to see how easily he took his lover to pieces, with only his hand and mouth. Mine, the beast rumbled within him- let them see he is mine.

Law came with a choked sob, Drake massaging his prostate through the aftershocks until he whined, oversensitive and trembling against him. Then he let his teeth dull once more, tenderly laving his tongue over the pressure marks they’d left, before drawing back.

Law followed him, dropping his head against Drake’s chest to catch his breath, and the too-soft noise he gave at the sudden emptiness inside him made the beast want to stuff him full. Drake contented himself with petting along his shuddering frame, spreading the scent of them together across his skin and purring lowly.

When the group finally left the hallway for the room off to its side, a low-lidded, catlike satisfaction had settled around Law, sensual and simmering. He was never done after just one go- Drake called him insatiable for a reason- but he could be patient now that the edge had been taken off.

It was a very attractive look on him. One that was shed almost immediately, as Kid began prodding at him, and the two were off, jabs and insults flying. Drake and Killer drifted to the other side of the room to avoid the noise.

It was a plain room- tatami flooring, wood and paper screens surrounding them. An aged sort of glory, and he curiously examined the faded ink on the screens, depicting a tiger with its jaws around the throat of a deer.

The scent of Law still hung on his skin, cool against his own warmer leather and keratin scent, and the memory of that racing pulse under his teeth made the beast grumble in anticipation.

Drake tuned back in to the room, then sighed, exasperated, “They’re still arguing.” “Will be for a while, knowing them.” Killer shrugged, amusement in the easy bend of his shoulders, the muscles there densely built and strong, and now that he looked closer, Drake found he wanted to bite down on them.

The other glanced up at him, mask tilting, and obviously had the same idea, because he offered, “Want to get started without them?” “If you like.” Drake stepped closer, just too close to be polite- normally he wouldn’t use his greater height like this, but the beast enjoyed the way the other reacted to it, the scent of arousal on the air. He was starting to ache, himself.

“Preferences, things to stay away from?” Killer’s voice had gone a little breathy, just slightly higher than normal. “Uh. Kid is the only one who gets to touch my mask. No sudden moves behind me. Um, I- I like it rough, and I can get really loud.”

Drake hummed- just what he liked. “My bracers stay on. I can do rough, but I don’t do degradation or pain.” “’S alright, that’s what I’ve got Kid for.”

“Then strip. Or I can do it, if you’d rather.” He smirked slightly, clicking claws in demonstration- it was something Law liked, on occasion, being torn from his wrappings. Killer chuckled, started to shuck off his clothes. “No thanks- I like these jeans, I want to keep them.”

Again, Drake thanked his military training- he had no sense of embarrassment anymore, standing bare and hard before another. He also thanked that Killer had the good sense to not ask after his scars- the other had a fair amount as well, but more varied than Drake’s own, which were almost singularly marks from his own claws.

Killer reached out, waited for Drake to nod his acquiescence before he touched, calloused finger tracing along his shoulder. “You’ve got more ink than I thought. Looks good.” He huffed, “Eleven years in the Navy. You don’t escape without it.” Those he had no problem talking about, if the other wished- his tattoos were marks of accomplishment and pride.

“You’re Southern, aye?” At Killer’s nod, he pointed out his mark for the South Blue- a sea king with the shell and beak of a turtle and the ridge of a lion fish, coiled around a fishing hook on his thigh. Its eyes were dice. “I first sailed there in pursuit of a pirate called ‘Snake Eyes Six’, who’d been terrorizing the Bubble Reefs.” Killer huffed in disbelief, “Cor, that was you what caught him? That bastard set our town ablaze. Kid was pissed the Marines got to him first.” Drake shrugged, “Well, I was just glad to get him off the seas.”

Perhaps later they could share drinks and stories about it, but right now, the scent of arousal in the air was overpowering. He took his cock in hand, giving it a lazy stroke, bringing it back to attention, hard and thick. “I’m bigger than most. You can handle that?” The mask nodded eagerly, and Drake got the feeling the eyes beneath were fixed. “Oh, yeah. Bigger is better.” Killer was a stocky man, dense and muscled- Drake didn’t have to worry about breaking him. Not like he did Law, at least, all angles and lithe frame.

“Do you want me to prep you?” He felt eyes go to his hands again- the claws had disappeared, and the other huffed a quiet laugh, “Yeah, sure.” “I suppose you’d prefer to lie on your back.” “Wasn’t expecting you to be nice, as frowny as you usually are.” Drake shrugged, “The facade prevents unnecessary conflict.” “Oh, that I understand. The trouble Kid gets us into, I’ve gotten good at mediating.”

Killer was a pleasant partner- patient, casual. He felt comfortable enough to joke, even impaled on Drake’s fingers, “Getting a workout, surely- how many folks have you had a hand in today?” “Only two.” The other burst out in a genuine laugh at that, “Oh, you were popular in the barracks, then?” “Aye. Marines are as much adrenaline junkies as pirates, you know.” He flashed Killer a grin of deadly sharp teeth, and the flush spreading down the other’s chest deepened a shade.

The scent of him was rugged, beneath the metal and wood and human musk- something like lanolin and barley. It made Drake want to dig in deep and rut.
Still, he wasn’t known for his self control for nothing, and ensured the other was well prepared to take him, before he tucked Killer’s legs around his waist, positioned himself, “Ready?” “Fuck yeah, take me.”

Drake slid in slow and easy, gentle rocks opening the other around him, and Killer gave a quivering sigh of pleasure when he bottomed out, limbs going liquid and boneless under him. He was just working up to a rhythm when there was a hand in his hair, long fingers pulling taut, and he hissed, teeth suddenly gone sharp, and gave a harsh thrust. Killer whined beneath him, trembling as he gasped and moaned through the shock of it. Their partners had finally stopped arguing, apparently.

Law draped himself languidly over Drake’s back, hummed, “Don’t stop on my account. It’s nice to be on the outside, occasionally.” He watched lazily as Drake returned to his task, and occasionally made whispered comments of “Look how tight he is”, “You make him sound so pretty”, “Not skinny enough to see your cock through the skin, a shame.”

Kid had settled across from him, pulled Killer’s torso up onto his lap, and the blond grasped onto him desperately, as if there was nothing else tethering him to reality. He said nothing, only watched, eyes alternately fixed on his partner and the place where Killer and Drake met.

That hand stayed in Drake’s hair, tugging at alternate moments, petting at him, and the other skated teasingly across his bare skin, following the ripple of his muscles, the trails of sweat that dripped from him. Doing absolutely nothing to make control easier, and Drake worked his jaw, forced his teeth back.

Law teased, “Hey, Killer. He can get bigger, you know.” He almost cursed- of course Law would remember him saying that. The other groaned, something high and needy, and managed a reedy chuckle, “You holding out on me, Drake?” He grunted, “Didn’t want to hurt you.” “Give it to me, I want- ha- I want all of it.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed, “All of it?” He pulled out, let the shift take over his groin, let the flesh change and grow. “Look. Look at it. This is what you’re asking for. Are you sure?” He couldn’t see Killer’s expression, but the scent that radiated from him intensified, and he gave a breathy sort of laugh, “Seas, yes.”

Drake tipped his head back, nuzzled against his lover’s hair. “Doctor, what do you think?” Law’s eyes were intent, the gaze almost palpable as his hand snaked down to trail fingers along the intimidating size of the beast’s cock- his hand couldn’t fit around its girth, and the length… “I haven’t even tried that yet, though I’ve been wanting to.”

Kid huffed, “Pipe like that? Your skinny ass would tear down the middle.” Law’s eyes narrowed, the sort of challenging glare that said ‘I’m not only going to do it, I’m going to make you watch’, but Drake nudged his cheek gently against the other’s jaw, successfully bringing him back to the matter at hand and heading off another fight. (That his lover would no doubt be even more intent on taking his largest form now was a problem for future-Drake.)

Law ordered, “Go slow- I won’t let anything perforate. And Killer- no walking tomorrow, at all.”

Drake did as instructed, proceeding as carefully as he could. He felt the difference from the moment the head slipped inside- any average-sized human would struggle to take him, and Killer was a vice around his cock.

He moved in millimeters, the gentlest of thrusts slowly opening the tight walls around him. Killer’s voice grew high, breathy, almost pained, but Kid said that was a good thing, and Drake decided to trust him on that. He wasn’t sure he was capable of stopping now, anyway- it was taking all of his considerable self-control to go slowly, muscles taut and skin glistening with strain.

Finally, he was fully seated, and he let his head tip back on his shoulders, savoring the feeling- no one had ever taken him like this before, not at full size. He felt so close to the beast right now, its consciousness overlapping his own, urging him to take, to conquer.

He forced it off, wrangled back control of his vocal cords, managing a growl, “Okay?” Killer only whimpered in response, whole body trembling, and Kid stroked through blond hair. “Give him a minute.”

Clever hands traced teasingly along the ink on his chest, the touch feather-light. Law’s voice was low in his ear, breath hot on his neck, “You’re being so good, so patient.” If he was, it was in spite of Law’s unhelpful ministrations, scent and sensation threatening to overwhelm him.

The menace spoke up, a tease oiling his husky laugh, “Important question, before things get too hot and heavy- do you want him to cum in you, or on you?” It was probably a good idea to get that out of the way, before he didn’t have the wherewithal to ask, he had to admit. Drake grunted, “Fair warning, it’s a lot in this form.”

Killer’s chest flushed deeper- ‘cute’, he thought- and the other seemed to pause, deciding, before he huffed, “On. Maybe next time.”

Finally, Kid gave him the signal- he kept himself tightly reined, moving in slow, smooth thrusts to help the other adjust, the tight muscles around him slowly loosening their death grip. Killer made broken, cut-off noises beneath him, like he was being taken to pieces, and it made Drake’s predator senses flare. Prey, they told him. Press, hold, take.

He worked up to a solid rhythm, hips pumping steadily. Killer was taking him so well, even managing to press back into the thrusts, broad chest heaving with pants.

Law continued his teasing commentary, “Oh, there we go. Now I can see it.” Long fingers traced the very slight bulge in Killer’s belly, the movement where Drake’s cock was visible, and fuck, Drake could smell the want in him, hear the genuine jealousy in his voice. “God, that’s so hot. Imagine how big that would be in me- you’d fill me up entirely.”

The words were purred into his jugular, dull teeth nipping at his throat- the image of Law small beneath him, whining and pleading impaled on his cock, flashed through his mind, and he could feel his own teeth sharpening in his mouth, the urge to bite overwhelming, the beast snapping at its reins. Killer’s shoulders, his thighs, suddenly looked so nice and meaty, thick enough to press into and just hold in his jaws.

He needed- gods, he needed flesh under his teeth. He doubted either of the Kid Pirates would appreciate it- but he knew who would.

-

Drake’s teeth were sharp suddenly, his eyes a molten gold and beastly, although his hands stubbornly remained clawless, not puncturing Killer’s skin. Kid watched him carefully, just to be sure.

The larger man tipped his head back with a groan, mouth stretching out around the deadly fangs, “Law- I-“ He broke off with an inhuman growl, something frustrated building in it, unable to manage words.

Law disappeared from his back, appearing sat atop Killer’s shuddering torso, thighs spread and a hungry smirk across his face. He tucked himself back to Drake’s chest, brought his hands over his head to the other’s face, caressing his jaw gently. “I know what you need, it’s alright.” He guided Drake’s head to his shoulder, holding him there, looking like nothing more than a satisfied cat. “Bite me.”

Drake trembled a moment before giving in with a growl, jaws snapping shut over the flesh in his mouth and holding tight. Law gave a muffled shout, the sound fading into a quivering groan as he fell limp against Drake’s chest, and shuddered, held still under the fearsome teeth, tight gasps drawn from him.

His eyes grew glazed, face flushed and screwed up in an expression of pained ecstasy, hands making aborted attempts to grasp at Drake behind him, to hold on to anything, and it almost looked like he was the one being fucked, body jolting up and down between Killer and Drake.

Kid watched him start to fall apart, penetrated by nothing at all, bar Drake’s teeth.

Drake himself was still moving, still fucking mercilessly into Killer, jaws locked around Law’s shoulder and lips stained with blood, but his eyes were watching Kid. He couldn’t tell if there was any intelligence there, the focus too intense to distinguish single-minded purpose from animalistic ferocity, but those gleaming yellow eyes never left his own. Was that a ‘don’t touch what’s mine’ kind of possessiveness, or was that a ‘you’re next’?

He felt a swooping sort of emptiness in his gut, something that itself had teeth, watching his partner blissed out and helpless and taking it all, watching Law’s skinny frame tremble, blood dripping slowly down tanned skin, watching the beast that was Drake conquer. It made him want to rear up, clash teeth with the hunter, rake steel into his flesh.

Killer had long fallen into that state he seemed to crave during sex, nothing mattering but sensation, and he opened easily for the massive cock within him, submitting entirely to the savage thrusts that rocked him. He’d lost all restraint, moaning openly, broken, incoherent pleas and whines. It was this that made Kid’s blood rush like nothing else.

He petted sweat-drenched blond locks, gentle only for one person, murmuring quietly to his partner, “Seas, you’re so hot like this, all fucked stupid and loud as a whore.” Killer whined for him, clutched to his coat- he’d always had a thing for giant cocks, and Kid was the only one who knew what his face looked like twisted in mindless ecstasy.

Kid looked up, sneered, “And you- are you getting off on just his teeth? What an easy slut.” Drake’s eyes narrowed in a sort of possessive glare, but Law only moaned, high and broken, so Kid grinned, continued, “Bet you’d love to try stuffing yourself full of that beast cock, but it’s occupied, filling up someone else. I don’t think he’ll let you have his cock, anyway- too afraid it would break your skinny ass. So you’re just grinding helplessly, getting your rocks off second-hand, scruffed like prey.”

Law had hooked his hands around Drake’s neck to hold himself up, one fisted tightly in the man’s hair, and his head dropped limply against his arm, panting heavy breaths and still leaning into the teeth that pierced him. His hips canted, ground desperately into Killer’s, their cocks pressed sloppily together with no hand to hold them, only rubbing fleetingly with each of Drake’s thrusts. He looked good enough to eat like this, bloody and desperate and wide open. Kid could understand why Drake wanted to get his teeth into him.

And as his eyes traveled, he noticed another set of teeth marks on Law’s hip, healed and faded pale on tan skin. “Oh, this isn’t the first time, either. You like being prey, don’t you? Helpless in the grip of the beast.” Another gasping moan, a shudder of hips. “You waltzed in here like you were in charge, your beast following meekly behind, but look at you now- you fucking love it when he goes feral and takes you down.”

Kid could feel the iron in that blood calling to him, to lick it from sweaty, fevered skin and taste the ecstasy in it. Drake sure seemed to be enjoying his mouthful, blood coating the bottom half of his face like a lion with a kill, and the look in his eyes now said ‘Do something about it’.

So he did, pulling Killer up against his chest and sliding forward, leaning over his whimpering partner to drag fingers through the blood dripping down Law’s chest. He swiped a slicked thumb across the other’s mouth, painting his lips red with his own blood, and Law bucked, a shattered moan falling from him, and came. His frame drew taut, spine bowing and chest thrust out, nails digging into Drake’s skin and writhing under his teeth, rutting uselessly against Killer’s belly even as the aftershocks left him twitching.

“Ha- don’t- don’t stop- keep-“ He tossed his head back, shuddered, panted, chest heaving. Kid smirked, “Such a diva. Well, you got yours, and now you’re gonna have to wait. It’s Killer’s turn now.”

It had never not been Killer’s turn, Drake an engine that never faltered in his thrusts, but he dedicated himself now, a beast advancing savagely. He leaned forward, tucking Law close to his chest- the smaller man was pliant now, limp against him, face open and expressive as he moaned and whined- and settling sharp claws on Killer’s hips, still careful to not pierce flesh.

Part of Kid wanted to egg Drake on, urge those claws to trace lines in his partner- don’t you just want to dig in, to really let the beast out- but so far he was the only one allowed to draw Killer’s blood, and he wasn’t sure yet he wanted to share.

Kid licked Law’s blood from his fingers, the iron singing in it. “Doesn’t he sound pretty, Killer? Whining like that? And all it took was teeth and some blood- there’s nothing in that greedy little hole, even.” The blond huffed, reached a hand up to fit tight around the smaller’s waist, wanting to help, wanting to hear those noises again, even himself impaled and fucked nearly thoughtless.

His hand trembled, missed its target, and Kid petted him, “I’ll take care of this, don’t worry.” He took control of the metal ring on Killer’s thumb, guided his hand to Law’s hole.

The skinny man was still loose from earlier, Drake’s fingers having stretched him out, and the thumb wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t be nearly enough, but that was part of the fun.

Law rutted on it, teeth gritted with frustration as he chased a completion that was too far off, still grasping for waves of pleasure through the ache of overstimulation. He really was greedy, not sated yet even after cumming twice.

“Is that not enough? Your beast isn’t gonna give you what you want, clearly.” Blazing yellow eyes glared through him, Drake’s teeth settling deeper in flesh, holding tight to his prey, and Law gasped, trembled helplessly under him.

Drake shifted, changed his rhythm- thrusts slower but deeper, grinding and thorough- and Killer’s noises changed with it, less fevered gasping and more broken, overwhelmed moans and pleas. He was getting close- they both were, Drake’s thrusts savage and deep, spearing into Killer like he intended to come out the other end.

Drake did something- added an extra filthy grind to a particularly deep thrust, and Killer’s frame suddenly went taut- he wailed like he was dying, grasping for Kid as he shuddered, threw his head back helplessly.

The larger man rode out Killer’s orgasm valiantly, brow furrowed in restraint, and pulled out just as the blonde neared the edge of oversensitivity, giant cock settled on his belly as Drake succumbed to his own climax, a growl muffled in his partner’s flesh. Thick ropes of cum escaped his pulsing cock to streak Killer’s belly, and fuck, he hadn’t been kidding about the amount.

Law- pulled up by the hips and sat atop the giant cock’s length- rutted against it, hips stuttering back and forth, hands wrapped around its girth and sticky with cum, like he could imagine taking the giant thing. He whimpered once- twice- arched his back in a silent scream and shuddered to devastating completion.

He collapsed for good this time, twitching and dazed-looking against his partner’s chest, and Drake finally removed his teeth from the smaller man’s flesh, tongue laving gently across the wounds to ease them, the bleeding slowing even as Drake nuzzled a cheek into that soft, vulnerable juncture, smearing red further up his jaw.

The claws melted away into human hands, and Drake petted Killer’s trembling hips soothingly, some kind of low rumbling noise sounding deep in his chest as he checked him over. Not that Kid would have let him seriously get hurt, but he allowed the inspection.

Kid hadn’t thought much of Drake previously- mostly because his single-minded focus on his goal kept him from paying much attention at all to those unrelated to it, and as soon as Drake hadn’t revealed any interest in the One Piece, he’d become irrelevant. (There was one prominent memory he could recall, from Sabaody- Killer musing that the other had held both him and Urouge back at the same time- but little else.)

Ironic, that it was the skinny conniving bastard that made him rethink his dismissal- first with his obvious fixation on the larger man, then again with the arrangement he’d proposed. Drake wasn’t steel and stone, things Kid could control and understand. He was fang and claw, leather and bone, all organic and primal. Maybe someone he should reevaluate.

Chapter Text

The arrangement he’d made may have opened up a box he hadn’t intended on ever seeing unsealed. Kid was very good at degrading him in all the ways that made him burn, good at lighting that fire of competitiveness that insisted ‘I’ll show him.’

But had he known that Killer would get to Drake’s monster cock before he did, he would have insisted the other stay home. No offense, of course- the blonde was good company, and he and Drake were friendly enough- but he hadn’t set that up to watch his lover fuck someone else.

That intent golden gaze had belonged to another that night, eyes unwavering. But in the end, Drake’s teeth had found a home in his flesh, even as someone else got the privilege of taking his cock. Drake knew that his teeth belonged to Law and no one else. But Law wanted more- more than just the teeth he’d claimed. Law wanted that predatory gaze fixed on him and him alone.

He was obsessed, there was no way around it. He’d watched Drake fuck Killer with that monster cock and burned with jealousy the whole time. And he hated that Kid knew it, that the other was perceptive enough to read that he wanted, and that Drake wouldn’t give it to him.

It had to be classified as some sort of torture, denying him this. The cruelest of punishments. He’d gotten so tantalizingly close to that massive cock- Drake had physically sat him upon its length like riding a steed, for a few precious moments. He’d felt the solid mass of it between his thighs, hot and pulsing and so fucking big, cum smeared across his groin, his hands- had gotten as far as feeling his loosened hole catch against the shaft before he fell apart entirely, grinding helplessly down onto what little of it he could hold against himself and shuddering to pieces.

Even the thought of it made something in his gut clench, and he stopped, mind suddenly made up. He was not going to let this injustice stand any longer.

Lucky that Drake was to be found in his quarters, then, because Law wasn’t sure he would have minded an audience right now. He switched himself directly atop the other man on the bed, appeared between Drake and his book, so close their noses nearly touched. “What do I have to do to get you to fuck me with that giant monster cock?” Drake frowned, and he cut off any objections, “Serious question. How can I prove to you I want it badly enough?”

The book snapped shut behind his head, set down at the side with just enough deliberate gentleness to know that he was pressing at buttons. “You know that’s not the concern.” He almost rolled his eyes- no, the concern was if he could ‘handle’ it, because Drake was serious when he said he didn’t want to hurt Law, and a cock that big would no doubt tear something. Ignoring, of course, that Law was the best surgeon in the world, and could fix whatever Drake broke. He would almost be offended, if it weren’t so endearing.

“And if I prove I can take it? Without permanent damage?” The last three words, quickly added to the question, stopped Drake’s immediate objection, and he seemed to genuinely be thinking deeply. Law pressed his advantage, seeing victory in sight, “You know I can take myself apart in whatever configurations I want. I can move things around, take things out.”

He could pull himself apart at the seams, could become, temporarily, nothing more than a hole to be fucked- and just the thought had him shifting to alleviate the sudden pressure in his groin.

Drake sighed, giving in. “Alright. If you can prove- to my satisfaction- that there won’t be any permanent damage, then I’ll give it to you.” Law’s mouth grew into a triumphant smirk, as he trailed a hand down Drake’s chest. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied, alright.”

He tapped insistently at the other’s buckle, making his intent clear, and Drake blinked, “What- now?” “I need it- for measurement purposes.” The expression on Drake’s face said that he saw right through him, but it was true enough that he would need to know what he was getting into to make preparations, so the other had no legitimate reason to deny him, and he knew it.

Drake only sighed once more, and began unbuckling his belt. His face remained impassive, but the flush rising irrepressibly up his neck belied how much Law had thrown him off. He’d nearly turned Law inside-out with pleasure on multiple occasions, that he was still embarrassed stripping in front of him was almost funny. Maybe it was the fact that Law was openly staring like he wanted to bite the cock off at the base and swallow it whole.

Law watched intently as the shift took over, flesh rearranging and growing, the muscle in Drake’s core and thighs thickening to compensate, his frame bulking only a few inches. Still mostly human, save the beast growing more prominent between his legs.

It was intimidating, even soft, although it wasn’t so for long, quickly taking interest as Drake wrapped a calloused hand around the base and gave it a rough stroke, the man’s brow furrowing.

Law leered, raised a teasing brow, “Do you need some inspiration?” Drake grunted, teeth growing sharp, “Your scent-“, another harsh jerk, hips bucking into the tight circle of his fist, “-is doing quite enough. Gods, you- fuck- smell so hot-“ He leaned forward, intent, “What do I smell like? Tell me.” “Right now- ha- a bitch in heat. Needy, wet… desperate.” Certainly an accurate enough descriptor- his cock had been leaking against his boxers for long minutes now, the ache close to overtaking his heartbeat.

The cock continued to grow in Drake’s hand, surpassing intimidating into downright terrifying, and Law swallowed, mouth starting to water. Finally, the beast stood at full mast, rising swollen and engorged from Drake’s hips. Fuck, it was bigger than he remembered, and he reached out, touching lightly, forcing himself past the arousal digging hooks into his brain, forcing himself to think.

It didn’t look human, obviously- broad and thick, tapering to a dull head, a fleshy-red unmatched to the pale of Drake’s skin. Law’s hand wouldn’t fit around its girth, and it was longer than his forearm. The flesh burned hot, the vein on its side visibly excited, pulsing blood through the flushed head. A pearl of pre-cum rolled precariously to the edge of the slit, and he leaned in, almost mesmerized, to catch it before it could fall, licking a broad stripe up the hot flesh to the tip.

Drake shuddered, a curse punched from him as if struck, and suddenly Law couldn’t help himself, taking the head into his mouth- even this, the thinnest part of the beast, filled his lips to a stretch, and he grabbed the base with both hands, holding on.

Drake stopped breathing, suddenly razor-sharp teeth nearly biting through his lip, “Surely you don’t need-“ Law cut him off with a sharp twist, pulled away only long enough to insist, “I need to know how much comes out of it. For research.” And he stuffed his mouth full once more, suppressing his gag reflex to go deeper.

But even testing his limits, there was only so far he could go- the edges of his mouth ached, straining around what little he’d taken, and he forced himself a millimeter further, refusing to back off even when the head hit the back of his throat and he choked on it.

The larger man leaned close, claw tracing the bulge in Law’s throat where he’d pressed his anatomy to the limits. His pupils were blown wide, eyes glowing a transfixed golden- good, look at me-, and his voice shook slightly as he tried to sound put-together, “Don’t- don’t do anything stupid.” Law swallowed hard around his mouthful, throat clenching, and Drake hissed, tossed his head back. He would do as many stupid things as he wanted for this cock, thank you very much.

Still, there was physically no way he could take more into his mouth, not without getting into some… more intense anatomical changes. So he pulled back, focusing on the head and letting his hands take care of the shaft. The taste was salt and musk, something not-quite skin and not-quite keratin, that more-than-scent the beast gave Drake that Law had noticed made his nerves go hot and his head a bit light.

Drake was so polite, even with his cock down his throat. Too polite- Law wanted a fist in his hair, wanted to be pushed and pulled and used. Damn this man’s iron-clad self-restraint. He grasped for Drake’s hand where it wound in the sheets, tugging it atop his head.

Drake got the signal, twining his fingers in strands of fine black hair. The hand pulled, tentatively at first then a solid pressure, and Law’s eyes fluttered shut. He hummed in contentment around Drake, and the hand flickered into claws against his scalp, a growl sounding above him. Oh yes, that was exactly what he wanted.

Except… it wasn’t, really. He wasn’t content with stopping here. He pulled off with a final, lingering lick to the tip and scooted forward on Drake’s lap, straddling his thighs and pulling the massive cock against his body, measuring mentally. The head reaching to his sternum made his mouth go dry, a shudder running helpless through him. God, he’d have to take out so much to fit this in.

“Hold this.” Drake blinked, eyes wide as he processed what had been tossed to him, and he cradled the heart like something precious. His voice was slightly choked when he protested, “A warning, please, before you start throwing your organs at me.”

Law shoved his liver at him next, “You’ve been warned. Here.” Drake cursed, taking the thing gently in the crook of his elbow and struggling one-armed out of his coat. He laid it down, settled the gelatinous cubes gently atop the leather. Soon, they were both staring at Law’s empty body cavity, all the internal parts of him carefully wrapped in soft leather.

He barely heard Drake’s defeated mutter of, “The fact I’m still hard…”, and dismissed it immediately, waving a hand as if physically dispelling the implications. “Yes, yes, we’re both incredibly fucked up people, none of that is news.”

For a long moment, he contemplated. The ‘X’ tattoo spanning Drake’s chest was tempting, and he itched to follow it with his scalpel, open the other up like he had himself. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before- Drake had been eager to see what he looked like on the inside, the strange intermixed anatomy he had the beast to thank for. They’d examined together the scars that reached all the way to the interior of the body, the old cauterized places where intestine had been lost (to his own claws, Drake had said, when he couldn’t control the beast as a teen) and the remnants attached together.

But this… there was a hunger in him, something approaching crazed, to press their open places together, feel the inside of Drake’s body against his own, intertwine their guts and lock their ribs together. To be so caught up in each other as to be impossible to truly separate again. He could leave some part of himself inside Drake, and vice versa- a simple vein, maybe, something connected to the heart just for the sappy symbolism of it. Later, he promised himself- he could play around with interchanging their pieces like a mix-and-match doll later. Right now, he had priorities.

He leaned in, pulled the shaft of the cock against himself, shadowed in the fresh cavity of his ribcage. God, he could imagine it now, filling him up entirely, painting his insides with cum. The ruddy head dribbled another milky droplet onto his thumb as he swiped it over the slit, and Drake groaned, the cock twitching in Law’s hand.

Something at its base pressed insistently at his thigh, slowly inflating pulsating and hot against the soft skin between his legs, and Law froze. He’d seen that before, in veterinary anatomical diagrams (in the stranger, wilder sort of smut he’d started furtively reading after getting together with Drake, he would rather die than admit).

“Oh god, there’s a knot.” He stared, transfixed, struck utterly dumb by the simple realization- oh god, there was a knot. His brain couldn’t seem to move past that fact, caught and stuck on it as surely as he wanted to be. Oh god. It was unreasonably massive, easily the size of both his fists put together, swollen and desperate red, almost visibly pulsing with blood, and oh god, there was a knot.

Fuck, he wanted it. There was no way he could take it, but he wanted it, with a ferocity enough to nearly drive him mad. Just the idea- stuck on Drake, unable to move, broken open around him, filled so utterly, impossibly full he couldn’t even breathe- caused his cock to leap in his pants, almost painfully hard against his jeans. He’d nearly forgotten they were there at all, and immediately rectified that, nothing but skin between their flesh now.

Drake must smell the way he was suddenly so thoroughly aroused it consumed his thoughts, because he shuddered with the effort of restraining himself. This image, too, flooded Law’s veins with fire- he didn’t want Drake to restrain himself, he wanted to be mauled, wanted to be impaled on this massive beast, wanted the knot forced into his body even if it tore him open. And the wanting was so fierce it nearly overcame him entirely.

God, if he didn’t- if he didn’t get that cock in him right now, he was going to genuinely implode, and he used the very last of his rationality to find a way to make it happen that wouldn’t fracture his pelvis and, worse, make Drake never let him try this again.

“Here, here, I can- let me-“ He forced his hands steady, drew fingers down the center of his chest, all the way down, and opened his body down the middle, spread it around that massive cock, before closing around it, the flesh seamless and whole once more. A shudder wracked his entire body- it was inside him, at least. He hadn’t taken it, not in the way that really mattered, but it was still inside him. He could feel it there, cum drooling to drip along his insides, the knot pulsing at the inside of his hole, and shivered again, helplessly.

There was stillness for a moment, both of them seemingly just processing the novelty, the impossibility of it. Drake’s forehead dropped against his, claws framing his hips, shaking. He seemed incapable of human speech, barely hanging on to human thought. Golden eyes caught his own- something pleading, almost… scared in them. Asking, begging. He nodded solidly, the same plea echoing in every fiber of his being.

And then Drake snapped, shoving up against him, pulling him down, rutting that giant cock into his torso, the knot pulling and pressing savagely at the hole he’d made around it, incapable of pulling out and only thrusting short and sharp and deep. Law cried out, clung to the other, rode out the ferocious thrusts.

What happened between them then couldn’t rightly be called sex. When he looked back later, it didn’t make sense, as there’d been very little nerve stimulation at all. It was simply the sheer intensity of it all, the feral energy of their impossible accomplishment fueling some crazed coupling, intertwining their bodies and minds in animalistic fervor.

They were tied together, Drake stuck massive inside Law, his cock plugging him up, his claws meeting around Law’s waist, digging against flesh, dragging him closer closer closer.

Somehow, he found Drake’s mouth, dragging him into what could generously be called a kiss but was mostly a bite, reaching, consuming. Drake’s jaws, half-transformed and sharp everywhere, fit halfway around his head, gripping but not biting down, not tearing, only holding Law there in his grasp, in the wet heat of a predator’s mouth, and Law, for his part, only leaned into the hold, arching, demanding more and closer and inside. Eat me. Like feral animals, they devoured each other, all teeth and tongues and ferocious, unyielding, consuming need.

One of them must have bitten too hard, because all Law could taste was blood and salt and that heady, musky something that clung to his throat. It filled his mind with cotton and made all his senses hyperfocus- the heavy thump of Drake’s hips against his ass, the deadly grip of claws tight on his skin, the foreign weight and girth he could feel in his gut. His own heartbeat seemed to echo all around his head, some great quaking thing that drowned out all other thought, threatening to devour his consciousness whole.

His eyes rolled, crazed, hands grasping desperately as if to pull Drake into his body entirely, pull himself into Drake’s mouth, pull the two of them together into one being. He couldn’t have thought or spoken a coherent word to save his life, even had Drake’s tongue not been down his throat- all that escaped him were muffled gasps and whines as he was shoved and pulled and rocked and fucked utterly senseless, beyond all sense of humanity.

And when Drake seized, grasped teeth tight around his throat, his heavy growl ripping through them both as his hips shoved deep and hilted inside Law, and sudden liquid heat began to flood his naked insides, his peak hit him with all the force of a live wire.

The orgasm that overtook him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before- it burnt through his nerves like wildfire, leaving his entire body buzzing and hot in its wake, shaking and liquid like he’d forgotten entirely the boundaries of his own skin, like the hands he could feel stroking his hips and sides were as much his own as the ones raking bloody divots in Drake’s back.

He may have actually passed out for a moment, because the next thing he remembered was his head tucked against Drake’s shoulder, teeth pressed into the skin, hard enough to leave dents, hard enough to bruise, but not enough to puncture. Damn his dull human teeth- he deserved fangs, didn’t he?

Law eventually unlocked his aching jaws from Drake’s shoulder and just rested there against him, sated and complacent and exhausted and plugged full by the knot that still tied them together, the new warmth of its spend heavy inside him.

Drake nuzzled against his hair, that low purr rumbling comfortably as they both came down, the larger man gone hazed and tender, lost to base instincts in the wake of their frantic coupling. He laved his tongue across Law’s jaw, lapping up the blood that had smeared there, his own face painted with it, eyes low-lidded and hair sweat-greased against his skin.

The two of them drifted in that mindless haze together- Law couldn’t know how long it was, lost in touch and fullness and warmth, but eventually that pressure low in his gut lessened, the knot deflating, and he allowed Drake to turn fully human again, to lift him and slip out of his body.

An ache grew down there, fresh and sharp and nonsensical- nothing had been stretched or pulled, what could be cramping?- and he whimpered, body cavity now occupied only by cum, feeling somehow incredibly full even as his body was mostly empty. He put a hand to his belly, felt how it bulged slightly, skin elastic with nothing to secure it, and dropped his head to Drake’s chest, trembling and overwhelmed all over again, “Oh- oh god, oh god-“

Drake’s throat creaked as he attempted and failed human speech, and he wet his lips with his tongue, tried again, “I’m… going to call that temporary insanity.” Something like a hysterical giggle escaped Law’s mouth, high and breathy. “Not temporary for me.” God, that had been… life-altering. He was never going to be satisfied with normal, shore leave sex again- this man was the only one who could do this to him.

As a side benefit, he had, in fact, achieved his stated goal of measuring what came out, and his very scientific conclusion was holy fuck. He didn’t have an exact measure with him, but his knowledge of anatomy left his head spinning with the implication that Drake had spilled half a liter of cum into his guts. Just the thought threatened to send him over the edge again, even twitching and spent as he was, and his brain buzzed with mixed satisfaction and that disbelieving need that wasn’t yet sated.

He was taking this cock- for real, actually taking it- if it was the last thing he did.