[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?
[ That assertion brings a smile to Law's lips that tries its best to be a smirk and fails. What would otherwise be a sort of earned arrogance melts in favor of the fact that, coming from Cora-san, that's just straight up a compliment and he knows it. It's praise wrapped up in kind of a nothing, and that's what makes it sweet. ]
[ It breaks to a grin, though, and he pulls his hands away from his eyes and looks up at the other through his sunglasses. ]
Hmm. If you want one. What kind of codename would you pick?
Guess that depends on what my superpower is. And let me tell you, it better be cooler than warming up rice for you.
[Speaking of, the microwave beeps, so he pulls out the bowl, gives it a stir with a spoon to make sure it's not cold in the middle, and artfully (he wishes, there's nothing special about this) sprinkles the furikake on top, then reaches over to set it on the counter above Law for whenever he's ready to actually sit up and come eat.]
I know, it's pretty impressive, but I can do other things too, like shelve books.
[That's definitely even more impressive.]
What's a cool way to say - oh. Oh, how about, "The Broker." You know, like an information broker!
[That sounds way more important, very cool, and on second thought he regrets it because it's way too easy to make jokes about him breaking things.]
[ Law considers getting shitty with the other man about the shelving books comment, even if it is a joke. Needling him into admitting he does have a goddamned super power when it comes to his profession. But Cora-san picks up his own slack, even if he fumbles a little on the execution, and the words die on Law's tongue. Instead, there is soft laughter that he doesn't entirely mind rings his head a little. ]
You can broker information as your superhero code name and broke-r the villains' equipment as your alter ego.
Maybe I'll be one of those secret twist characters when it turns out I have more than one alter-ego. They might all figure out that the quiet librarian is also the masked vigilante, but it's just a red herring when he's the one behind every scene setting up everyone right where he wants them.
[He's animated as he says all this, looming dramatically and gesturing to show his expansive underground reach. Sounds cool! And not one word of it is serious. Probably. Just a big funny joke and not something he'd ever seriously consider if life started to take a darker turn.
[ Law smiles dopily up at the other upside-down during his whole spiel, utterly adoring of his grandiosity and just hungover enough not to hide any of it behind a smirk. ]
You'd certainly be the last person anyone would expect, with all your usual outward displays. Hm. I can see it, though.
[ He groans, though, before lifting a hand toward the other man. ]
I'd like to stay on the floor a few more hours, but I also know I shouldn't.
[He says, smug, as if it was all part of the plan all along. For his cool alter ego, it sure would be.
Rosinante extends his own hand down, having to bend somewhat to reach Law way down there on the floor, then firmly tugs him upward and catches him with an arm around his waist to sweep him into his arms. Sometimes he is actually capable of being graceful and suave, and it further backs up his point in this fantastical conversation.]
The outward antics are a distraction from what's been really going on the whole time. They underestimate me, and never find out the truth.
[Very funny, the whole thing. He laughs it off, then lets Law go so he can eat.]
[ Law would have thought he'd never be the kind of person to enjoy being swept close like this, that he'd find it unerringly irritating, but somehow, with Cora-san, it makes his heart flutter. Even if it does also pull another rush of red into his cheekbones and ears, and he finds himself reaching for the brim of the hat that isn't there before instead smashing his forehead against the other's chest. ]
Like I said... I can see it.
[ Help, he's becoming a sap. A weird conjectural nerd of one, but a sap nonetheless. ]
[ And enough of one that even though Cora lets him go, he stretches up on his stockingfoot tiptoes and catches the other's jaw in his fingers so he can press a kiss to his cheek. ]
So how do I fit into that little scenario of yours? [ He snickers, absolutely deflecting any further sweetness to duck away and heft himself onto a stool at the counter. Ugh, wow, that's more off-balance than he likes being. ] Am I completely oblivious, or in the know? Somewhere in the middle?
[He leans down on the counter, arms folded beneath him. It's a very deep lean but he makes it work. At least the bar height is easier than a standard height table for him, so it's a good compromise between their two sizes.]
You start out oblivious. But you figure it out eventually, and never say anything since you don't want me to worry about you knowing, I guess. And then later there's some dramatic reason I need to reveal it to you, but!
[He makes a dramatic upward sweep through the air with an arm, as if performing some sort of reveal.]
You already know. Cue music, or fireworks, or... something. It's very romantic.
[ Law snickers behind his grin, nose wrinkling with the breadth and depth of it, though most of the crinkle is hidden under the bridge of his sunglasses. ]
You're cute. And you're right. I'd keep any of your secrets, even from you.
[ The rice is the perfect temperature, and he sighs softly as he finally starts to physically relax. ]
Hey... Thanks. You do a lot for me. ...Besides this, I mean.
Besides haul you home at strange hours and tell ridiculous stories? You know, I've seen a lot of med students come and go. A lot of them burn out. Makes me wonder if the ones who don't are the ones who have someone looking after them.
[It's not a serious thought, just an observation. A curiosity, nothing more. The other students aren't his problem. And Law in particular could probably scrape by without anyone, though he imagines it would be a lot more stressful.]
Glad to do what I can, that's all. You'll be one of the best out there, with or without me.
And besides heating up leftover rice and brewing coffee. I mean... it all adds up.
[ Cora is probably not wrong, honestly. ]
I could have found an off-shift janitor's closet to take the world's most uncomfortable hangover-nap in, or texted Bepo or Roronoa and hoped one of them was awake at this godforsaken hour and listened to my own head pound until they texted back. But I've got this morning person boyfriend who... well... likes taking care of me... so you know, it's like I have a first choice or something.
[ He is not fiddling with his rice and pointedly not looking at the other while his face lights up, nope. ]
[ How is Law so constantly precious? And yet he manages so well to hide it from everyone else. Rosinante knows he's one of the very few who ever sees this side of him, and he revels in that knowledge like it's some secret they both get to share.
He can't help it, he reaches over and brushes his fingertips through a spiky bit of hair just above Law's ear. Just a gentle, loving little touch that also carries minimal risk of somehow knocking Law's entire meal off the counter, which has probably (definitely) happened before. ]
You can thank me in the acknowledgments of all your future publications.
[ This is sort of a dare, and sort of a request to do absolutely nothing like that, please, he's happy just knowing Law appreciates him and all the dumb little things he does. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[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?
no subject
[ It breaks to a grin, though, and he pulls his hands away from his eyes and looks up at the other through his sunglasses. ]
Hmm. If you want one. What kind of codename would you pick?
no subject
[Speaking of, the microwave beeps, so he pulls out the bowl, gives it a stir with a spoon to make sure it's not cold in the middle, and artfully (he wishes, there's nothing special about this) sprinkles the furikake on top, then reaches over to set it on the counter above Law for whenever he's ready to actually sit up and come eat.]
I know, it's pretty impressive, but I can do other things too, like shelve books.
[That's definitely even more impressive.]
What's a cool way to say - oh. Oh, how about, "The Broker." You know, like an information broker!
[That sounds way more important, very cool, and on second thought he regrets it because it's way too easy to make jokes about him breaking things.]
no subject
You can broker information as your superhero code name and broke-r the villains' equipment as your alter ego.
[ And everything else. ]
Or vice versa.
no subject
[He's animated as he says all this, looming dramatically and gesturing to show his expansive underground reach. Sounds cool! And not one word of it is serious. Probably. Just a big funny joke and not something he'd ever seriously consider if life started to take a darker turn.
Hm.]
You want a hand up?
no subject
You'd certainly be the last person anyone would expect, with all your usual outward displays. Hm. I can see it, though.
[ He groans, though, before lifting a hand toward the other man. ]
I'd like to stay on the floor a few more hours, but I also know I shouldn't.
no subject
[He says, smug, as if it was all part of the plan all along. For his cool alter ego, it sure would be.
Rosinante extends his own hand down, having to bend somewhat to reach Law way down there on the floor, then firmly tugs him upward and catches him with an arm around his waist to sweep him into his arms. Sometimes he is actually capable of being graceful and suave, and it further backs up his point in this fantastical conversation.]
The outward antics are a distraction from what's been really going on the whole time. They underestimate me, and never find out the truth.
[Very funny, the whole thing. He laughs it off, then lets Law go so he can eat.]
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Like I said... I can see it.
[ Help, he's becoming a sap. A weird conjectural nerd of one, but a sap nonetheless. ]
[ And enough of one that even though Cora lets him go, he stretches up on his stockingfoot tiptoes and catches the other's jaw in his fingers so he can press a kiss to his cheek. ]
So how do I fit into that little scenario of yours? [ He snickers, absolutely deflecting any further sweetness to duck away and heft himself onto a stool at the counter. Ugh, wow, that's more off-balance than he likes being. ] Am I completely oblivious, or in the know? Somewhere in the middle?
no subject
[He leans down on the counter, arms folded beneath him. It's a very deep lean but he makes it work. At least the bar height is easier than a standard height table for him, so it's a good compromise between their two sizes.]
You start out oblivious. But you figure it out eventually, and never say anything since you don't want me to worry about you knowing, I guess. And then later there's some dramatic reason I need to reveal it to you, but!
[He makes a dramatic upward sweep through the air with an arm, as if performing some sort of reveal.]
You already know. Cue music, or fireworks, or... something. It's very romantic.
no subject
You're cute. And you're right. I'd keep any of your secrets, even from you.
[ The rice is the perfect temperature, and he sighs softly as he finally starts to physically relax. ]
Hey... Thanks. You do a lot for me. ...Besides this, I mean.
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[It's not a serious thought, just an observation. A curiosity, nothing more. The other students aren't his problem. And Law in particular could probably scrape by without anyone, though he imagines it would be a lot more stressful.]
Glad to do what I can, that's all. You'll be one of the best out there, with or without me.
no subject
[ Cora is probably not wrong, honestly. ]
I could have found an off-shift janitor's closet to take the world's most uncomfortable hangover-nap in, or texted Bepo or Roronoa and hoped one of them was awake at this godforsaken hour and listened to my own head pound until they texted back. But I've got this morning person boyfriend who... well... likes taking care of me... so you know, it's like I have a first choice or something.
[ He is not fiddling with his rice and pointedly not looking at the other while his face lights up, nope. ]
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He can't help it, he reaches over and brushes his fingertips through a spiky bit of hair just above Law's ear. Just a gentle, loving little touch that also carries minimal risk of somehow knocking Law's entire meal off the counter, which has probably (definitely) happened before. ]
You can thank me in the acknowledgments of all your future publications.
[ This is sort of a dare, and sort of a request to do absolutely nothing like that, please, he's happy just knowing Law appreciates him and all the dumb little things he does. ]