#have this little sketch i do have impulse being hugged twice in my to draw list

[jestroer]

I want you all to know that i think about Impulse not actually liking hugging people a normal amount and do not have “impulse being hugged” in my to-draw list twice

[chokefriends]

Anatomy model Eustass Kid

By @godims0tired ♡ for my fic Life Drawing

Rating: E

Warnings: None

Characters & ships: Eustass Kid / Trafalgar Law

Word count: 2978

Summary: Law practices his anatomical drawing with Kidd as his subject. With his devil fruit abilities he can see right inside him.

Kidd finds this insanely romantic.

~~~

Read on Ao3 or below the cut. I know it's an older fic by now but I havent posted it here before so here!

~~~

Kidd jerked into full awareness as he lay sprawled in his bed. He checked around himself without moving and sensed a second heartbeat in the room, near enough that the dim echoes of its electrical impulses lapped at his skin like waves. Slow and calm. Just watching then; not yet poised to attack…

There were eyes on him.

It took him a moment to remember that the other heartbeat was supposed to be there. He wasn't used to having bedmates stay overnight.

Red eyes slid open and found keen grey ones fixed on him.

“The fuck you staring at.”

“You, idiot.”

The big redheaded sprawl snorted crassly at that and flopped over, returning the stare with sleepy menace.

Law smirked. He was wedged sideways in one of the heavy carved armchairs in Kidd's quarters, loosely wrapped in a sheet and busily scritch scritching in a large book. His gaze flicked from page to Kidd and back.

Kidd prodded him, “See something you want, Trafalgar? Come over here and take it.”

His limbs were still all loose and languid from when they'd fucked a couple hours before, but Kidd could stand to go another round. Especially with the sharp, evaluating looks Law was throwing him right now.

“Come on, c'mere.”

“Later. Go back to sleep, Eustass-ya.” The pen bobbed.

“Don’ wanna. What are you doing still up?”

“Just passing the time until my brain decides to let me fall asleep.” Law's insomniac woes again.

“A good fuck will do that for you. Lemme do the ligature thing and you'll be out like bam .” Kidd offered generously.

“Heheh. Thanks but oxygen deprivation is not the kind of sleep aid I need.”

“Your loss.”

Kidd burrowed into his cluster of satiny pillows with a sigh. For an infamously brutal pirate captain he sure liked his little extravagances. The whole room was draped with horribly clashing bits of luxurious fabrics and furs, and the odd shiny sharp thing. The manic magpie whims of past raids.

“Nah, that's no good,” Law recrossed long legs over the chair’s arm, well cushioned with some spotted pelt. “Go back to where you were a second ago.”

“Are you…? What, taking notes on me? Writing an ode to the sinful curve of my flawless ass?”

“Something like that. I'm adding my own anatomical diagrams to this medical text. It’s my favourite for reference material but the illustrations are scanty and kinda shit -- it's like they've never dissected anyone before.”

“Nice. Add a diagram of these.” Kidd kicked up a leg.

“Hah. I'm nowhere near the section on genital abnormalities, but I'll look you up when I get there. Turn on your side again, I was doing upper body musculature.”

“Ooo. I got lots of that, yeah.” Kidd complied.

The lamplight was flickering low behind Law. Kidd could see him and his book backlit dimly, the small hairs on his leanly muscled shoulders aglow like a nimbus. Tinged subtly blue.

Wait, blue?

“Do you have a Room up?”

“Yeah, so I can scan down and see the actual anatomical stuff.”

“Huh. That's handy. You don't even have to dissect anyone.”

“Yeah but it’s easier to see everything if you physically open someone up. You can isolate the individual structures that way.” Law peeked overtop of the book. “And it's more fun to do it the old-fashioned way, heh…”

Kidd gave a low laugh. Law wasn't even joking, he knew. He imagined waking up one night like this, to find some part of him delicately splayed open and the dark haired doctor sketching away with the same expression. If Law used his devil fruit power he could do it painlessly and bloodlessly, without even waking him. Kidd had seen him sever heads away from bodies completely within that blue sphere, both pieces still functioning as one. He’d never been the subject of that eerie power himself, though.

He didn’t think so, anyway.

Law untangled himself from chair and sheet, and finally came over to join him on the bed. Kidd was gifted briefly with a full view of the lithe figure. His recent handiwork was beginning to show in the mottling that ran up either thigh and the bites framing his chest tattoos.

The long limbs refolded next to him. “Stay there, I wanna do the neck muscles now.”

“Lemme see that first.”

“Don't be grabby,” Law complained, but gave up the book.

“Holy fuck.” Kidd flipped through studies of his back, shoulders, hands. “So that's how I look without skin, huh.”

He had been expecting more… yeah. Skin.

“I did say I was drawing the muscles.”

“And my bones and everything.”

“Yeah. Good skeletal structure too. Several odd calluses where breaks didn't quite set right, though.”

“You can see all of that?”

“Yeah, of course. Like I said, I can scan down to any level. Though it helps if I know already the shape of what I'm looking for.”

Something about the drawings was just so Law. The lines so precise, so sharp, somehow impatient. A little obsessive and overworked on certain details, like the hollow between his collar bones and the knobbly crook of his index finger, broken at least twice. Many practice studies on loose sheets of paper showed that Law had been trying to get these parts just right.

It occurred to Kidd that these weren't just anatomical studies using him as a model -- these were him.

Jotted notes crowded around the practice studies, but Law grabbed the book back before Kidd could read them properly.

“Trafalgar. Does that seriously say I have 8.2 litres of blood in me.”

“Nevermind that. Just an interesting fact. You have a lot of blood.”

Kidd stole another peek as Law held him off. “And that I have a grip strength of 68 kilograms in my right hand?”

“At least. That’s not something I can see; that's from uh, experience.”

Kidd leaned back with his hands laced behind his head to look at Law. “One might misinterpret this as a target profile of some kind.” Because that's exactly what it was -- a detailed map of Kidd’s strongest, and weakest points.

“Whoa, your blood pressure’s spiking.” Law grinned with more teeth than usual and leaned in to hover over him.

“Now you're just showing off,” Kidd complained.

“Does this disturb you?”

That wasn't exactly the feeling that was spreading through him, no. Or not entirely, anyway. Kidd just cracked his neck, stretching it out for Law's benefit, and raised an eyebrow.

“So you wanted some neck action? It's all yours.”

Law seemed to like the sound of that. He angled Kidd’s head away and up with a gentle press of fingers, so the ear and neck were exposed to him.

Kidd watched his shadow flicker on the opposite wall and listened to the pen scratch across paper. The undulating magnetic field of Law’s heart was so close now, washing over him. His own blood thudded in his ears, senses all on high alert from holding himself in this vulnerable position.

He could be fuckin patient. Sometimes. Well… when he had all of Law’s attention focused on him like this, he’d stay still forever. He could feel the sharp eyes on him like a touch. His own eyes started to wander back over…

He jumped a little when Law did touch him, nudging him back into place. And then trailing fingers over the mound behind his ear.

“Sternocleidomastoid,” Law mouthed to himself. “Levator scapulae…” The hand travelled down to his collarbone and rested there lightly, his thumb tracing little circles.

It was so calm. And strange. Rare for the reserved doctor to be so casually intimate. Even while they were fucking, touch was more like a struggle, hands straining against and into each other. Kidd was rough without even trying, but it was Law who seemed to flinch from any contact not resembling combat. Or medical care. Such structured things. He’d objected -- vehemently -- to being “pawed at” and “pet like a lap dog” often enough. As though anything less than bruising force would hurt more.

He was so guarded. It made Kidd greedy.

“You're hard, you know,” Law breathed onto his neck.

“Yeah I'm aware.”

“Heh.”

Tattooed fingers ran along Kidd’s side, over the tight bands hugging the ribs (“Serratus anterior…”), and pinpricks rose in their wake. Kidd found himself arching up against the hand desperately.

“Ah, fuck, Trafalgar…”

“Mhm,” Law responded, distracted. Or pretending to be. He followed a particular cord of muscle down Kidd’s powerful thigh with his thumb. “Sartorius. Gracilis.”

“Dick.”

“No that's not a muscle, Eustass-ya.”

“Oh for the love of GOD.”

Law made a sound that was probably a muffled laugh. “Hold still. I'm doing anatomical studies.”

“Oh is that what we're doing.”

“Obviously.”

“Where's the book.”

“It's…” Law looked around for a minute. “On the floor.”

Kidd covered his face with his hands and just laughed. Law sighed dramatically.

“Well. Guess I gotta start from the top again.”

 

---

Law could be a pushy bastard when he topped. But he kept up the slow, focused treatment this time and it was driving Kidd fucking insane.

“I'm gonna flip this the fuck around and pound you inside out if it takes any longer.” Kidd growled from under his arm, slung across his face.

This was as close as he could get to actually asking for it. Here he was laid out, so open and ready, core clenching and unclenching. Needing to be fucked, to have hands on him, in him, whatever. All of it.

“Nah you're not.” Law countered smugly.

“F-uck,” was all Kidd could come up with when a third finger twisted into his slicked up hole. His body tensed and spasmed before yielding itself open.

By the time Law was actually fucking him, Kidd had nearly popped a fucking vein.

Law pushed in slowly, slowly. Until they were pressed together as tight as they could go, breath hot on each other's faces.

“Shit, Tr--ahh…”

“Eustass-ya…”

He was done with all the slow shit. Kidd was a shifting mass of need under him and honestly, he was even more worked up. He dragged almost all the way out only to grind back in hard, and the tight body jolted.

“Aw fuck, yeah…”

Law braced his weight on his arms, pressing Kidd’s hips into the bed. He watched the muscles bunch beneath him with each impact, Kidd straining to meet him. Watched through skin so pale it was translucent, glowing and rippling.

Kidd still wasn't entirely sure what to make of that gaze. All hunger and splitting seams, open lips and ragged breath.

He quirked up one corner of a mocking mouth.

“The fuck’re you-- ah --staring at?”

Law didn't answer for a moment. Under Kidd's skin it was like… layers of red ribbons, wrapping him up. The ribbons all pulling and straining against each other when Kidd moved (when Law moved in him), like something inside was trying to burst out. Under them, ribs curving -- jealous fingers. Wetly clinging membranes. Then under that…

“Your heart. It's…”

Their bodies collided, beaded with sweat. Harder. More. Law could see, hear Kidd's heart beating faster as he picked up his pace. God, he could feel it in his palms. In his dick. Beating so strong it echoed in his ears, drowning out his own.

“Fucking perfect. It's perfect.”

Kidd laughed breathlessly. His heart. What the hell. “...You wanna get your hands on that too?”

Law did.

He wanted to grip it, feel it flutter, make it burst …

… What if I could? he thought. He slowed, thinking, and spread a hand over Kidd’s breastbone. Not just to incapacitate through dismemberment, but to cut a piece from the whole, one vital piece…

Kidd watched the pensive eyes flicker and gave him a swift jab of encouragement with his heel.

“You'll just have to get hold of it the old fashioned way. Hahahaaa…”

“Hah.” Law shook himself from his distracted state. He picked up a pace that was slower than before, though not less jarring. “Like… I should court you or like I should cut you open?”

“Whichever ...ah ... But you should fuckin get me off first.” Kidd guided the tattooed hand down from his chest to his dripping cock, and Law obliged, finally.

They fucked with foreheads pressed together and grips slipping on sweat slick skin. Kidd thought of Law digging his hands right into his chest and came in jerking starts like it was being beaten out of him, legs clamped tight around him. Skin thrumming with the echoes of hands and heartbeat.

 

---

Kidd flipped through the last few drawings with some undefinable flutter in his gut.

“That's some shit you won't see in any other textbook.”

“Mhm.” Law allowed himself to press against Kidd just slightly as they lay sprawled out, sweat drying in the cool air. He was in a fuckin good mood, kinda dazed.

“I do look damn good without skin, I'll say that much.”

“Heh. And with. You can see the suprasternal notch really clearly even under the skin, it's nice. I fuckin love all of that. That area.”

Kidd choked a little but Law didn't seem to realize what he'd said. And that's not even what he meant anyway, Kidd told himself.

But the whole thing kinda was the same as a confession, at least as far as Law went. The drawings, as vaguely threatening as they were, betrayed an intimate preoccupation with Kidd's finer points. Maybe even admiration. Definitely possessiveness. Need.

“I wanna do you too.”

Law grinned, “Already?”

“Not that, idiot. Draw you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

“Well, draft. I can draft things -- just basic. For engineering stuff on the ship, mostly.”

“Oh, nice!” Law bounced up to get fresh paper from the floor by the chair. “How does one usually draft stuff? Don’t you need a triangle thing? Compasses, etcetera?”

“Maybe. I’ll just make an outline for now.”

Law seemed right into this whole idea. “Draw me like one of your machines, Eustass-ya.” He draped himself dramatically across the bed and Kidd shoved him with a grin.

“How do you want me, though.”

Kidd appreciated that question for a moment.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I don’t know how to draw from life -- like perspective or anything. So it’s gonna be pretty diagrammatic. I just need a few details and some numbers.”

“Like specifications? How to build a Trafalgar?”

“Yeah, so I can make another if this one breaks.”

That made him laugh.

“Okay lie out flat and lemme measure you.”

“With what measuring tools?”

“I'll just eyeball it,” Kidd insisted.

This turned out to mean that he was going to get his hands all over him, which Law supposed was fair. He tensed and shied but stayed mostly still, letting Kidd explore his dimensions and proportions. Pages filled up with ratios and vectors of movement. Things got off track again around when Kidd was testing the rotation arc of his arms and quickly became vicious rutting. Light, skimming hands could become crushing ones so quickly.

Anyway, turned out that Law could get off while his arms were being hyperextended behind his back. Pretty effectively, in fact.

After, when they were laid out next to each other once again, and Law’s breaths were finally lengthening into sleep, Kidd dared to try another light touch. Without their thin pretense of functionality this time -- just want. He smoothed a hand over all the tattoos he'd taken such careful note of earlier. A large heart on his chest with a grinning skull similar to his Jolly Roger. Hearts on his shoulders. Kidd’s fingerprints blooming dark purple on his upper arms.

Sixty-eight kilograms of pressure and Law hadn't made a sound, but a feather touch over the marks and a quiet ah pushed past his lips.

“Whose emblem is that tattoo?”

Law mumbled with his eyes closed, “Someone who died. Long time ago.”

“Someone…” Kidd repeated to himself, but didn't probe. “You going to get any more?”

“Nah.” His breath stuttered slightly when Kidd trailed knuckles down his jaw. “I just like… your marks…”

He fell asleep with Kidd's lips against the shell of his ear.

 

---

A roll of broadsheet tied with string arrived by carrier gull when Law was back on his sub some days later. He stole away to his cluttered quarters and spread the roll out on the bed.

Inside the broadsheet was a large-format technical drawing.

There were three flat outlines of Law: front, back, side. All heavily marked out in blunt pencil, all surrounded by arcs and lines, dotted and solid, indicating measurements and angles of motion. The insides of the outlines were empty except for perfectly to scale renderings of his tattoos.

[mhbwrites]

Title: Falling For You Summary: Roman and Virgil have been friends for quite awhile now, but Roman's never seen him with his guard down. When he gets the opportunity too... let's just say his heart can't handle it - side story to my high school au - 

Sophomore year was coming to a close, the drama club having just wrapped up their end of year play. Everyone in the club was feeling the post-performance buzz as they worked together taking apart the set and getting everything cleaned up and put away before the end of the day. Cleaning up usually meant joking around and putting off the work for as long as they could because once it was cleaned up, then they weren't allowed backstage until the beginning of the next year. So everyone liked making the most out of the time while they can.

Roman hummed softly as he scrolled through his phone, hitting play on a Disney playlist and music started drifting out through the stereo had set up. He couldn't keep a smile off his face, loving this time of year even though he was always a little sad when a play ends, but it was worth it to see everyone laughing and having a good time together afterwards. He let his gaze flit from group to group, eyes landing on Virgil where he was talking with Logan, perched up on one of the prop boxes and legs swinging idly, feet tapping along to the music. He must have felt eyes on him because he turned his gaze over to Roman, raising an eyebrow when their eyes met. Roman grinned brightly, lifting a hand in a wave, which prompted an eye-roll and a sigh from the other.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Patton asked, coming up beside him, a dress folded over his arm. "Maybe the person you're making flirty eyes at?" His tone was teasing, a grin tugging at his lips as he watched Roman sputtered.

"I'm not flirting with anyone!" Roman huffed out, crossing his arms. He knew Patton was just teasing him, he knew their relationship wasn't like that at all, but he still felt the need to defend himself. Patton just wiggled his eyebrows at him playfully and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I guess Virgil is looking a little cute today." he said, deciding to play along for once.

"Oh? So you do think he's cute!" Patton grinned brightly, clapping his hands together. "Do you think Logan is cute too?"

"Ha! As if!"

"You are aware that Virgil and I look the same, don't you?" Logan asked, making his way over to them. He lifted an arm when Patton moved forward for a hug, rolling his eyes fondly down at him.

Roman definitely didn't jump when he suddenly appeared, thank you very much. Even if he did press a hand to his chest dramatically. "You don't look that much alike you know. For example, you wear glasses, like a nerd."

Logan just raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in confusion. "You do know Virgil wears glasses too, don't you? He just prefers to wear his contacts whenever he's out of the house."

Roman blinked once, twice, confused. "He does?" He glanced at Patton for confirmation, frowning slightly when he nodded. "How come I've never seen him in them?" He watched as the other two exchanged a look, already knowing he wasn't going to get an answer. If he wanted to know why, then he was going to have to ask Virgil himself.

Which is how he found himself quietly making his way into the Clarke household, having received a confirmation text from Logan that Virgil was home and in his room with his glasses on. He did feel a little bad about sneaking up on him like this, but this really was the only way to see him completely relaxed. He carefully made his way up the stairs, easily avoiding the creaky parts, slowly inching his way down the hallway. He could see Virgil's bedroom door open and if he leaned just right, he could see him sitting on his bed.

If Roman hadn't know it was Virgil beforehand, he would have thought it was some stranger sitting on the bed instead. Virgil's long hair which normally hide his face was pushed back by a headband, glasses perched on his nose and, from he was able to see, he didn't seem to have any makeup on his face. His lips were barely moving, probably mouthing the words to whatever song he was listening to from the earbuds tucked neatly into his ears and a sketchbook was open, resting on his propped up knees. He looked so... relaxed, unbothered, and Roman found himself slowly inching forward, wanting a closer look but not wanting to startle him.

Unfortunately or him, he forgot about the dog. The second he took another step closer, a small dark head perked up from the end of the bed, looking over at him and wagging her tail. Virgil glanced at her before following her gaze, eyes landing on Roman. Their eyes locked and there was a long moment of silence stretching out between them before he let out a startled yelp, shifting quickly and pulling his blanket up and over his head.

"No! No no no no Virgil!" Roman rushed forward quickly, hands up in a nonthreatening way even though he couldn't be seen. Scaring him like that had been the last thing he had wanted to do and he cursed his curiosity. "It's okay! I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that!"

"What are you doing here Roman?" Virgil's voice sounded small under the blanket and he didn't know how to help make him feel better.

"I just.. I was thinking that we never really spend time together. Just the two of us." Roman came to a stop by the bed, crouching down next to it and hesitantly reaching a hand out, hand hovering over Virgil's covered form. "I should have asked if it was okay for me to come by, and I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence before Virgil let out a soft sigh, forcing himself to sit up. When he pulled the blanket off from his head, his glasses were no longer on his face and Roman figured he was hiding them for some reason. "It's.. fine. I would have liked a little warning, but I don't mind spending time with you." He grabbed his thrown notebook, flipping the cover closed and fingers playing with an edge, not looking directly at him. He did pat the bed, scooting over a little in invitation.

Roman waited a few seconds before taking up the offer, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, wanting to give Virgil some space. "You can wear your glasses you know. I'm not going to, you know, judge you or anything." He may just want a closer look at the sight, but he did want him to see.

Virgil just gave a little shrug, pulling the glasses out from beneath the blanket but not putting them on. "I don't really like the way I look in them, so I try not to wear them that much."

"I think you look good!" Roman had to mentally scold himself for sounding a little to enthusiastic. He didn't want to make him feel like he was just screwing around with him. "Not to say you don't look good normally! But -" He cut himself off when Virgil huffed out a laugh, shaking his slightly.

"I get it. Don't get all tongue-tied there princey." He reached over, nudging him slightly before sighing and putting the glasses back on. "Better?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! You look..." Roman turned to face him fully, feeling the words die in his throat. He couldn't help but notice the splattering of freckles across Virgil's cheeks and nose and he was finding it hard to look away. "You have freckles."

"I do." Virgil gave a little shrug, gaze very pointedly looking at his lap. "They're kind of -"

"Cute." Roman cut him off, already knowing where his train of thought was going and wanting to cut it off before it could fully form. "You look very cute right now."

Virgil blinked, an embarrassed flush spreading across his face, cheeks slowly turning pink up to his ears and he glanced at Roman from beneath his lashes. "You think I look cute?"

Roman could feel his heart thump heavily in his chest at the look, his mouth going dry. 'Holy shit I'm gay..' How was he supposed to respond to that? He couldn't exactly lie about it, and he didn't want to anyway. "Uh.. yeah. I do. You look cute like this."

Their eyes met and silence stretched between them, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as Roman would think it would be. He had the overwhelming urge to lean in for a kiss, and he had to tear his gaze away before he actually gave in to it. Him and Virgil were just friends and he wasn't going to risk ruining it for some impulsive feelings. He turned his attention to the sketchbook still on Virgil's lap and he remembered seeing him drawing something in it when he first came in. "So um.. what were you working on?" he asked, nodding towards the notebook curiously.

"Oh! It's nothing really. I was just.. making something for Patton for his anniversary with Logan next month." Virgil flipped the pages open and Roman very pointedly didn't mention seeing glimpses of drawings that looked kind of like him. Even if he was curious. He could always ask about it later. He came to a stop of drawing of Logan and Patton in what appeared to be Hogwarts robes.  He held the notebook out to Roman to take, and he looked away self-consciously.

"Virgil! This is really good!" Roman praised, taking his time admiring the work. He could tell it was still just a rough sketch, but the details were easy to see and he could tell a lot of work was going in to it. The quality already alone was enough to tell that the finished product will be amazing. No wonder Virgil was in the art club.

"It still has a lot of work left to do for it, but it is reassuring to know it's looking okay." Virgil flickered his gaze over to Roman, hesitantly returning the bright smile being directed at him. He could only hold it for a moment before he looked away again.

Roman wasn't offended though, but he felt the need to get some space between them before he did something he'd regret. So he hopped up from the bed and held out a hand in invitation. "It's getting close to lunch time. So how about we order some pizza and put on a movie?" he offered, giving his eyebrows and over-exaggerated wiggle to elicit an amused snort from Virgil. He considered it a victory when he agreed and they made their way downstairs, Lilith following behind with the bell on her collar jingling cheerfully.

And, if Roman had to fight the urge to hold Virgil's hand later while they were watching the movie, well, no one needed to know. These were feelings he was going to have to keep to himself. For now at least, until he could figure out what exactly it was he was feeling. He had an idea, and watching Virgil smile and laugh at the movie, expression carefree, it was becoming very clear to him that he had indeed developed a crush... and he didn't know what to do about that.