Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/872145.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Piece
  Relationship:
      Donquixote_Doflamingo/Trafalgar_Law
  Character:
      Trafalgar_Law, Donquixote_Doflamingo
  Additional Tags:
      that_weird_au_where_dofy_has_law_as_a_pet???, Vomit, sickplay?_is_that
      even_a_thing, pwp_honestly
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-06 Words: 2042
****** wipe him clean and lock him up ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     The kid is sick. At first Doflamingo thinks it's just residual
     seastone sickness from his last punishment, strung up in a collar and
     cuffs made of stone harder than iron and twice as deadly, but as the
     days fade into a week he realizes that Trafalgar Law is sick, really
     sick.
The kid is sick. At first Doflamingo thinks it's just residual seastone
sickness from his last punishment, strung up in a collar and cuffs made of
stone harder than iron and twice as deadly, but as the days fade into a week he
realizes that Trafalgar Law is sick, really sick.
Law is fourteen and his fear of Doflamingo is starting to snap and splinter
into sharp little points. He's headlong into the sullen throes of puberty and
Doflamingo's pretty little thing is beginning to stretch out, limbs growing
from faun to stag. He sleeps in Doflamingo's bed, still, when he's been good,
but he rolls all the way to one side, faces the wall, stony and silent.
He catches Law vomiting in the bathroom, one day, and realizes that he's not
feigning to get away, or suffering from seastone sickness. Law is kneeling in
front of the toilet and his hands are trembling on his knees and he gags once,
twice, then pukes, not realizing Doflamingo is behind him.
"What are you doing, kid?" Doflamingo asks, and Law inhales sharply, his
shoulders going stiff.
"Sorry," he says, and there's barely disguised fear in his voice, as well as a
low undercurrent of anger. "I'll clean it--"
"No," Doflamingo says, and takes a step forward, leaning down to touch Law's
shoulder with one hand, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"
Law's taken aback. He doesn't speak for a moment, then looks at Doflamingo from
the corner of his eye. "Sir?"
"I don't want any of my possessions getting damaged," Doflamingo says, and then
scoops Law up as easy as one would scoop up a kitten. Even with his new lankier
form, Law weighs almost nothing, and he goes limp instantly. He's used to
Doflamingo picking him, knows the repercussions of struggling.
He plops Law down on the top of the sink. He still towers above him, and Law's
not meeting his eyes-- there's a flush to his olive skin, and his eyes are
glossy and fever-bright. He's not wearing his usual fuzzy hat, and his hair
sticks up in sweaty spikes.
Doflamingo slaps him across the face. Law rocks backwards, teeth gritted, and
hisses in surprise. His eyes are closed and his hands fly up to protect himself
unconsciously.
"Stupid child," Doflamingo says, and then laughs, loud. "Tell me next time."
Law's still hiding behind his hands, so Doflamingo crooks one of his own
fingers and loops invisible strings around his wrists. He yanks down until
Law's hands are by his sides, then lets go. Law's still gritting his teeth.
Doflamingo knows that Law hates it when he uses his powers on him, so he makes
sure to do it when he can.
"Sorry," he says, finally, tone full of acid. Doflamingo grabs a towel and
before he can react he wipes off Law's mouth roughly.
"Don't make me use soap." Doflamingo drops the towel and grabs Law's jaw,
yanking up until Law's looking at him. He's sick, for sure-- there's a strange
pallor to his normally dark skin, and he's too warm under Doflamingo's fingers,
hot enough that Doflamingo wants to move away. He doesn't. He grips harder,
trying to leave a mark.
"Ow!" Law attempts to yank away, but Doflamingo doesn't let him. His breath
smells like bile. Maybe he will get his mouth washed out.
"Strip." Doflamingo lets go, wipes his damp hand on his overcoat. Law looks at
him with eyes that are fever-bright and loathing.
"Don't order me around," Law bites, and Doflamingo smiles.
"Strip," he says, again, only this time it's a command and not a request, and
Law's hands move of their own accord, grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking
it over his head, dropping it on the floor. He's beginning to develop muscle,
smooth and lean and lithe, and a trail of hair that leads down his belly and
creeps below his boxers. He's biting his lip and he looks beautiful, even while
pallid and sweaty.
"Sir," Law says, and his voice is weak. "I don't feel well--"
"Shut up." Doflamingo crooks his fingers and Law begins wriggling out of his
boxers, too, dropping them on the floor below. There is pain in his eyes and
his breathing has begun to increase in rate.
He's naked before Doflamingo, who reaches out one hand and caresses his thigh.
It's damp with fever-sweat and he shivers, hard. Doflamingo leans in and kisses
him on the hot forehead and he can feel Law quaking.
He picks up the towel that he used to wipe Law's mouth and reaches around him,
turning on the cold faucet. Cool water pours out and Law gives a little hiss as
a few droplets splatter his skin. Doflamingo wets the towel and then brings it
back around, and before Law can react, he begins to wipe off his face.
Law goes stiff, hands curling in on themselves as Doflamingo swipes his cheeks
and forehead with the towel.
"How does that feel?" he asks, and Law's eyelids are beginning to go heavy as
he runs it down his jaw and then behind to the nape of his neck.
"Sir," he mumbles, and sighs pleasurably as Doflamingo scrubs his back.
"You like it, huh?" Doflamingo murmurs, beginning to move down Law's chest,
leaving him cool and clean. He can see the muscles in Law's belly tense and
strain as he moves over them, and he smiles to himself.
Law is half hard, and he looks away embarrassedly when Doflamingo glances at
his face. It's cute, really. Doflamingo cleans his thighs carefully, spreading
Law's legs with a twitch of a finger to give himself access to the inner sides.
Law makes a little sound that's half a whimper, half a moan as Doflamingo
skirts around his cock. His eyes are half-lidded and shiny and full of
something that is half lust and half loathing, which is how Doflamingo likes
it.
"Want me to touch you?" Doflamingo asks, grinning.
He can hear Law's throat click as he swallows. "You won't stop if I say no."
"Your body's not saying no, little thing," Doflamingo says, a little sing-song,
and he runs the back of his finger along Law's cock. "You don't know what you
want."
Law gives a strangled moan as he touches him. "I hate you," he hisses.
Doflamingo laughs. Such little acts of verbal betrayal should be punished,
usually, but he knows that Law is only trying to piss him off, trying to deny
the pleasures that Doflamingo can give him.
He loops one arm around Law's shoulders, pulling him a little closer. He can
feel how the boy is trembling. There's satisfaction in that. Often, fucking Law
is like breaking him, feeling his little body shake itself to pieces, feeling
his barriers wear down.
He drops the towel on the floor and takes Law's cock in his hand. It fits
primly and Law whines before he can stop himself, eyes fluttering shut.
Doflamingo gives a couple of pumps, slow and teasing, and the boy looks
beautiful, muscles tensing in his jaw.
"Scoot forward and lean back," he says, and waits until Law grudgingly does so.
Doflamingo wiggles his fingers until Law's legs are splayed out, feet up on the
counter. He's resting on his lower back and giving access to everything and
Doflamingo feels heat growing in his gut at the sight.
There's lube on the countertop and Doflamingo squirts some out onto his
fingers. Law is looking at him, now, eyes brazen. Doflamingo smiles back and
reaches forwards between his legs, slicking his entrance with his thumb, and
Law's breath hitches.
"You're so pretty," Doflamingo murmurs, and works a finger in. Even with lube,
he's tight, muscles clenching to force the intruder out, but Doflamingo won't
give him a break. He feels unnaturally hot inside and Doflamingo can only
imagine how good it will feel around his cock.
Law's working hard not to make a noise, biting his lip and curling his hands
into fists, but Doflamingo breaks his silence by sliding in another slick
finger and twisting his hand around to curl up. He finds the little spot inside
the boy that makes his legs quiver, makes his breath come in hot pants. Law
whimpers as Doflamingo grinds against it, working his fingers in and out. He
adds more lube and begins to slide in a third finger and Law's mouth screws
into a thin line as he tries, useless, to contain himself.
"Sir," he manages, then gives a pained gasp as all three fingers slide inside
of him, up to Doflamingo's palm.
"Yes?" Doflamingo asks, fucking Law gently with his fingers. The kid's face is
beaded with sweat again and he squirms as Doflamingo pushes in and out, muscles
clenching.
"Fuck me already," Law gasps, his whole body trembling, and he sighs as
Doflamingo pulls his fingers out.
Doflamingo unzips his pants and pulls himself out. He's hard already, hard
enough that it's almost painful, and he grins at Law as he slicks himself up.
Even with the prepping, Law is tight, and he gives a strangled whimper as
Doflamingo pushes inside of him. His body feels overheated and incredible
around Doflamingo's cock and his eyes are glossy with tears. Doflamingo eases
in an inch, breathing out with pleasure at how Law's body is beginning to open
up for him.
"You feel so good around me," Doflamingo whispers into Law's ear, and he can
hear Law's teeth grit as he pushes himself in further.
"You're a pervert," Law says, the words ending in a little whine as Doflamingo
pulls out and then back in. He's still not entirely inside, but he's not in a
huge hurry.
Doflamingo laughs at that, loud and long, and he grabs around Law's back to
better push himself in. He looks at the kid's face as he does so-- Law is
grimacing, face flushed, eyes wet, and when he's all the way in, Law sighs,
allowing his head to loll back.
Doflamingo fucks him gently, smoothly. Law's not looking at him, anymore. His
eyes are off to the side somewhere and he's murmuring to himself, quiet enough
that Doflamingo can't understand him.
Doflamingo slams in, to get his attention, and Law yelps in pain and surprise.
"What are you saying, little bird?" he asks, and Law frowns at the nickname.
"I'm practicing my anatomy," he says, and the message is clear: I'm sending
myself somewhere else, I'm trying not to enjoy this. That simply will not do.
Doflamingo raises one hand and curls it around Law's flagging cock, stroking.
"You fit so well in my hand," he says, and Law tries to look away, so he
twitches the fingers on his other hand, stilling his head.
"Disgusting," Law murmurs, muscles tense under Doflamingo as he fucks him slow
and deep. His cock is hard in Doflamingo's hand and he looks into Doflamingo's
face defiantly.
Doflamingo angles himself a little better and pushes in and up, trying to hit
the sweet spot inside him, and Law arches his back and makes a sobbing noise of
pleasure as he does so. He fucks him harder, making sure his cock rubs against
Law's prostate the entire time, his hand still working Law's arousal.
Law comes first, shaking and breathless, and Doflamingo keeps pumping his cock
until Law pushes at him with both hands. He's tired enough that he almost falls
forward and leans against Doflamingo and there's something so sweet and
childlike in his sleepy actions that Doflamingo slams in one last time and
comes too, inside of him.
"Trafalgar Law," Doflamingo murmurs, stroking Law's sweat-soaked hair absently,
and Law groans in response.
"I feel even worse now," Law says, making a face, "And my mouth tastes like
vomit."
Doflamingo ruffles his hair, hard. "Don't complain, kid. I could have been
rougher."
"I need to take a bath," Law says, crinkling his nose as he looks down at the
mess forming underneath him. "Get out."
"Who's the master here?" Doflamingo asks, but leaves Law to bathe.
The next day, Law seems a lot better, but Doflamingo is absolutely miserable.
Fucking a sick kid was definitely not his brightest idea, he thinks, sneezing
into his sleeve.
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