[Before he can take the cigarette, Rosinante does, in fact, stumble. He'd just finished having a sip of his coffee, and then it's just one catch of his toe and the rest goes flying in an arc through the air as his arms cartwheel to try and catch himself before his face can hit the pavement. It's totally ungraceful and completely unfair.
Because Law looks so damned cool, there in his sunglasses with a cigarette, and of course that's what had thrown him off so quickly. God, the look of him with that cigarette.
But he laughs off his stupid fall as he picks himself up, then takes the cigarette in his hand.]
Bastard.
[Law's fault for being hot, apparently. He chuckles as he has a long draw of the smoke.]
[ The stumble is a non-item; it's part of life with the other man. But Law jumps just a little at that laughing insult. Not because Cora-san never gets shitty with him, but because he knows exactly what engenders a casual curse thrown his way out of nowhere. He pulls the brim of his hat a little lower over his sunglasses with his now-free hand. ]
Shut up - what did I even do?
[ He's not blushing he's still red from the hangover, shut up. ]
But also he's reminded of how fortunate he is. Law could have picked anyone else and he went for him, the clumsy fool who otherwise mostly keeps to himself and puts everyone else first. So while he may not hand out compliments freely, Rosinante is pretty sure he's been granted the biggest compliment possible.]
Do you at least have a break now, after all that? Seems like you deserve one.
[ The che in response is very much under Law's breath, but just as much entirely audible. Nothing. He'll have to badger it out of the other man once they get home; if he tried it now, he'd just end up embarrassed in the middle of the university sidewalk. ]
Of course. I may indulge the occasional horrendous idea, but I know better than to go on a bender if I don't have the recovery time. My next actual shift isn't 'til next week.
[And medical students, graduate students, hell everyone does stupid things under stress. He sure has.]
Glad to hear I get you all to myself for the next few days, though.
[Well, mostly. He does have to work, and he's the idiot who volunteers to do things like work on Saturday evenings so others don't have to, but there's plenty of time around the ends of that shift.]
Fair, fair. No, the one thing I won't do is jeopardize my place in the program, and if I end up hungover or in some other form of recovery while I have a shift to attend... [ He shakes his head. ] I could have done without the talking-to from an undergrad, though. [ Seriously, if he ever finds out who brought him in... ]
[ But then he grins against the mouth of his coffee, ducking his head a little. ]
Yeah... I have a paper and some reports to work on, but otherwise, I'm all yours.
[ He very nearly stumbles over that last phrase. Nearly. Takes another slow sip with his head ducked low. ]
[Now it's his turn to blush, even though he's trying so hard to be cool, casual, unaffected. They're in public, after all, though not too many people are out at this hour just yet.
The cigarette helps give him something else to think about for a second. Refocus on something a little less blush-worthy.]
[See, this is what drew him to Law so rapidly in the first place. Well, one of many things. But that passion he has for his interests is deeply attractive and really admirable. He's so smart! Rosinante only understands so much, and most of what he does understand is from listening to Law and occasionally helping him dig through some very obscure media in the library, but that doesn't keep him from nodding along and giving him his complete attention.]
Human bodies are weird. I have to say, even though I'd never want to be a doctor myself, I can see why it's so fascinating. So many things can go wrong!
[Like his own constant stumbling, but that's a lot less dramatic than, say, aortic aneurysm. And thank goodness for that.]
The most absurd things can go wrong, [ Law agrees, with perhaps too much excitement. ] And some of the most absurd things must be done to fix them. And to be able to do so many of them more accurately and safely with the human hand than by machine depending on which organs are involved -
[ He stops, then laughs a little under his breath. ]
Shit, there I go again. How do you put up with me?
[He grins down at Law at that question, then shrugs.]
I always find myself wondering how you put up with me, so I guess we're even. I love it when you get really into a subject like that, though. It's fun. I always learn something new.
[Which is why it feels less like he's indulging Law when he goes off on a topic, and more like they're both equally participating even if most of what Rosinante himself does is listening. Come to think of it, that's probably a big part of why Law does put up with him - he's a willing shoulder to lean on, a willing ear to vent at or just talk to no matter what he wants to say.]
Doesn't mean I know it all, just means I know how to know it. That's the trick. If I knew everything about surgery and anatomy, I'd be a surgeon, they get paid a lot better.
[At which he snickers around the cigarette in his mouth. He'd be a terrible surgeon and he knows it. Imagine falling on scalpels, dropping things into patients... no thanks.]
[ Law grins himself at that, keeping his own laugh to a chuckle to avoid setting his hangover off again. ]
Uh-huh.
[ He makes a face when the pleasant overcast breaks for a minute, the sun poking through, and pulls his hat brim lower. ]
Jesus...
[ - Oh thank god. He jogs the last couple steps to their building, blessedly into the shade of it, and beeps in with his pass. And then, you know, that reciprocity - holds the door for Cora-san. ]
[Ah, good to be home. He brushes past Law with a hand trailing across his shoulders, then gives a squeeze before stepping away and leaning down to untie his shoes.
The end of his cigarette catches across his shoulder in the movement somehow, and the shoulder of his jacket erupts into flame, but he's too busy wrestling with shoelaces to notice. Still a little too distracted mentally by Law to even succeed very quickly with the laces, and while on fire he also looks seconds away from toppling over.
[ Law lets a good 90% of Cora-san's clumsiness go without much more than a blink. Something you get used to. And then there are the damn fires and he wonders why the other man insists on smoking. He curses under his breath as he flicks his arm to let his hoodie sleeve slump down to cover his hand, and smacks at the fire with that while trying not to spill the last of his coffee on either of them. This has been a hell of a morning. ]
[Sometimes the smacking knocks him right over. Other times he seems poised to react, or at least to stand firm like the world's most stubborn brick wall. This is one of those latter moments, as he braces himself and looks at Law in alarm, then at his shoulder and takes notice, finally, of the smell of burning fabric. Oh.]
Oh!
[He'd join in the swatting but Law has it taken care of, so he flashes him a thumbs up, bends down to finish with the shoes -
And that's when he pitches to the ground sideways and somehow ends up on his back like the world's longest-legged turtle. But his shoes flop right off.]
[ Law comes thisclose to going down with him. Cora-san has a lot of leg. He manages to stumble out of the way, looks down at the other man, and just. Tilts his cup back and finishes the last probably quarter of his coffee. ]
[That worked out well, nice. He keeps the stub of the cigarette miraculously between his teeth the whole time, rights himself, and then takes the butt between his fingers and snuffs it out on the countertop ashtray. There, he's successfully retrieved Law, he didn't start too much of a fire, and all he lost along the way was half a cup of coffee and some of his dignity.]
More coffee?
[He's already on the move to start up a pot, given he didn't get nearly as much as he would have wanted.]
[ Law kicks off his own shoes with significantly less fuss, tosses his cup into the bin for the campus compost, and. Reaches for the arm of his sunglasses. Stops. Eyes the kitchen stools, considers, and, well. He already had his faculty boyfriend pick him up hungover from the fucking hospital. What dignity? With a huff, he drops his hat onto the counter, yanks off his hoodie, and lays down on the cool tile floor with his sunglasses still on. He should be embarrassed by how loud the following groan is, but fuck it. ]
Oh my god. I don't understand why anyone spends the blackout part of their drinking out of their own home on purpose. Much less regularly.
Can't say everyone's good at making decisions. I'm guessing it's not usually a conscious choice, though maybe for some it's a bad habit.
[Look, he's spent enough time around students of all ages to know that as brilliant and wonderful as people are, they're also just complete morons sometimes. Such is the paradox that is life. He gets the coffee out, pours it into the machine, spills some of it across the counter but nothing too crazy to add to his list of blunders in the last few minutes. Cleans it up easily enough as he talks, then looks over to where Law was, doesn't see him, looks down and - ah. Poor thing.]
Balancing needs and wants is tough. You've got more self-control than half the people I've seen around campus.
[ It's half quip and half absolute truth. Don't anyone ever go through his room. (Which is more his office now, for as much as he actually sleeps the night in it, but shh.) ]
Ugh god. Carbs. What do we have. ...That isn't cereal, I feel like I'd be able to hear that too loudly in my skull right now.
Shit. You're my hero. [ He lifts the sunglasses only in that he slides his fingers up under them to rub carefully over his eyes. ] Warm but not hot. Jesus. I stand firm in my assertion that the undergrads who do this every weekend aren't human.
[ Really he knows very well it's that teens and younger adults are basically elastic, but close enough. ]
They're also not likely to make it through med school.
[Look, he knows the statistics well enough. It's not that the every-weekend-partiers are bad kids, but most of them aren't serious enough to even get into such a demanding program in the first place. They sleep in, skip classes, come to him with desperate last-minute demands for help if they're even slightly dedicated while the rest never even show their faces inside the library unless dragged in by a friend. Not the sort of students who get top marks, and the medical school only takes those with the very best grades because competition is too fierce for anything less.
He sticks the rice into the microwave for long enough to warm it through, and leans back against the counter as he waits. He takes the opportunity to smile warmly down at poor Law on the floor, too. Even this comes across as sort of endearing, mostly because it's a rare enough event and he enjoys the opportunity to dote without being scolded.]
So if I'm your hero, do I get a cool hero codename?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Because Law looks so damned cool, there in his sunglasses with a cigarette, and of course that's what had thrown him off so quickly. God, the look of him with that cigarette.
But he laughs off his stupid fall as he picks himself up, then takes the cigarette in his hand.]
Bastard.
[Law's fault for being hot, apparently. He chuckles as he has a long draw of the smoke.]
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Shut up - what did I even do?
[ He's not blushing he's still red from the hangover, shut up. ]
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[So unfair.
But also he's reminded of how fortunate he is. Law could have picked anyone else and he went for him, the clumsy fool who otherwise mostly keeps to himself and puts everyone else first. So while he may not hand out compliments freely, Rosinante is pretty sure he's been granted the biggest compliment possible.]
Do you at least have a break now, after all that? Seems like you deserve one.
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Of course. I may indulge the occasional horrendous idea, but I know better than to go on a bender if I don't have the recovery time. My next actual shift isn't 'til next week.
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[And medical students, graduate students, hell everyone does stupid things under stress. He sure has.]
Glad to hear I get you all to myself for the next few days, though.
[Well, mostly. He does have to work, and he's the idiot who volunteers to do things like work on Saturday evenings so others don't have to, but there's plenty of time around the ends of that shift.]
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Fair, fair. No, the one thing I won't do is jeopardize my place in the program, and if I end up hungover or in some other form of recovery while I have a shift to attend... [ He shakes his head. ] I could have done without the talking-to from an undergrad, though. [ Seriously, if he ever finds out who brought him in... ]
[ But then he grins against the mouth of his coffee, ducking his head a little. ]
Yeah... I have a paper and some reports to work on, but otherwise, I'm all yours.
[ He very nearly stumbles over that last phrase. Nearly. Takes another slow sip with his head ducked low. ]
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[Now it's his turn to blush, even though he's trying so hard to be cool, casual, unaffected. They're in public, after all, though not too many people are out at this hour just yet.
The cigarette helps give him something else to think about for a second. Refocus on something a little less blush-worthy.]
What's your paper on?
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Aortic aneurysm. Did you know that -
[ He launches right into it immediately, animated despite having to keep his voice low enough not to worsen his headache. ]
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Human bodies are weird. I have to say, even though I'd never want to be a doctor myself, I can see why it's so fascinating. So many things can go wrong!
[Like his own constant stumbling, but that's a lot less dramatic than, say, aortic aneurysm. And thank goodness for that.]
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[ He stops, then laughs a little under his breath. ]
Shit, there I go again. How do you put up with me?
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I always find myself wondering how you put up with me, so I guess we're even. I love it when you get really into a subject like that, though. It's fun. I always learn something new.
[Which is why it feels less like he's indulging Law when he goes off on a topic, and more like they're both equally participating even if most of what Rosinante himself does is listening. Come to think of it, that's probably a big part of why Law does put up with him - he's a willing shoulder to lean on, a willing ear to vent at or just talk to no matter what he wants to say.]
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[ Law laughs, softly, but still winces and brings up his free hand to rub at his temple. Ow. He gives his head a little shake before continuing. ]
You're the librarian. I feel like every time I have questions you've either got the answers or you know exactly where to find them.
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[At which he snickers around the cigarette in his mouth. He'd be a terrible surgeon and he knows it. Imagine falling on scalpels, dropping things into patients... no thanks.]
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Uh-huh.
[ He makes a face when the pleasant overcast breaks for a minute, the sun poking through, and pulls his hat brim lower. ]
Jesus...
[ - Oh thank god. He jogs the last couple steps to their building, blessedly into the shade of it, and beeps in with his pass. And then, you know, that reciprocity - holds the door for Cora-san. ]
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The end of his cigarette catches across his shoulder in the movement somehow, and the shoulder of his jacket erupts into flame, but he's too busy wrestling with shoelaces to notice. Still a little too distracted mentally by Law to even succeed very quickly with the laces, and while on fire he also looks seconds away from toppling over.
Seriously, Law puts up with so much.]
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[ Oh my god. ]
[ Law lets a good 90% of Cora-san's clumsiness go without much more than a blink. Something you get used to. And then there are the damn fires and he wonders why the other man insists on smoking. He curses under his breath as he flicks his arm to let his hoodie sleeve slump down to cover his hand, and smacks at the fire with that while trying not to spill the last of his coffee on either of them. This has been a hell of a morning. ]
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[Sometimes the smacking knocks him right over. Other times he seems poised to react, or at least to stand firm like the world's most stubborn brick wall. This is one of those latter moments, as he braces himself and looks at Law in alarm, then at his shoulder and takes notice, finally, of the smell of burning fabric. Oh.]
Oh!
[He'd join in the swatting but Law has it taken care of, so he flashes him a thumbs up, bends down to finish with the shoes -
And that's when he pitches to the ground sideways and somehow ends up on his back like the world's longest-legged turtle. But his shoes flop right off.]
Thanks.
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Don't worry about it.
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More coffee?
[He's already on the move to start up a pot, given he didn't get nearly as much as he would have wanted.]
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[ Law kicks off his own shoes with significantly less fuss, tosses his cup into the bin for the campus compost, and. Reaches for the arm of his sunglasses. Stops. Eyes the kitchen stools, considers, and, well. He already had his faculty boyfriend pick him up hungover from the fucking hospital. What dignity? With a huff, he drops his hat onto the counter, yanks off his hoodie, and lays down on the cool tile floor with his sunglasses still on. He should be embarrassed by how loud the following groan is, but fuck it. ]
Oh my god. I don't understand why anyone spends the blackout part of their drinking out of their own home on purpose. Much less regularly.
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[Look, he's spent enough time around students of all ages to know that as brilliant and wonderful as people are, they're also just complete morons sometimes. Such is the paradox that is life. He gets the coffee out, pours it into the machine, spills some of it across the counter but nothing too crazy to add to his list of blunders in the last few minutes. Cleans it up easily enough as he talks, then looks over to where Law was, doesn't see him, looks down and - ah. Poor thing.]
Balancing needs and wants is tough. You've got more self-control than half the people I've seen around campus.
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[ It's half quip and half absolute truth. Don't anyone ever go through his room. (Which is more his office now, for as much as he actually sleeps the night in it, but shh.) ]
Ugh god. Carbs. What do we have. ...That isn't cereal, I feel like I'd be able to hear that too loudly in my skull right now.
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[He says wisely, then sets the coffee to brewing and stoops to have a look in the fridge because he's pretty sure- ah.]
Still have some rice left over from the other night, how's that?
[Without waiting for a response, he takes the container out and sets it on the counter, then sorts through the pantry for the salmon flake furikake.]
Warm or cold?
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[ Really he knows very well it's that teens and younger adults are basically elastic, but close enough. ]
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[Look, he knows the statistics well enough. It's not that the every-weekend-partiers are bad kids, but most of them aren't serious enough to even get into such a demanding program in the first place. They sleep in, skip classes, come to him with desperate last-minute demands for help if they're even slightly dedicated while the rest never even show their faces inside the library unless dragged in by a friend. Not the sort of students who get top marks, and the medical school only takes those with the very best grades because competition is too fierce for anything less.
He sticks the rice into the microwave for long enough to warm it through, and leans back against the counter as he waits. He takes the opportunity to smile warmly down at poor Law on the floor, too. Even this comes across as sort of endearing, mostly because it's a rare enough event and he enjoys the opportunity to dote without being scolded.]
So if I'm your hero, do I get a cool hero codename?
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