A/N: A story where Law is eager to find the love of his life, and Sanji just wants Law to know that it's their destiny to share body fluids. Prepare yourselves; it starts out normal enough but then turns into something completely different a couple of chapters in. I lack imagination.

Chapter One

It all started one rainy Saturday afternoon when a downpour forced most of those wandering the streets outside into the café for a respite. Receiving moderate business due to the bigger coffee shops located on the main road, the café was nestled between a drug store accessible by street level and the garage to the side. This side of the city was part of the downtown area, popular with tourists taking advantage of the hotels and shopping district atop of sloping streets.

Sanji had returned home from a short stint at college, where he was shamed to admit that it was his own bad choices that forced the move. Impulsive, bad tempered and just a little out of control, he'd promised Zeff to work hard and at all hours to keep the one bedroom apartment two floors above the café just so he wouldn't be forced to move back to his family home. He thought it would keep him from making any impulsive decisions because Zeff warned him that if he pulled any 'usual acts', he wouldn't take any pity on him.

He was mumbling under his breath while sweeping the floors of food crumbs from previous customers when a group hurried through the doors with laughter and exclamations about the rain. He glanced at them with irritation because they had taken away his chance to get a cigarette in. Out of all the shaking heads and wiping of shoulders, only one truly stood out.

Sanji could have sworn the floor dropped out beneath him, and he was thrown into the universe without a jetpack because standing amidst the group of plain and ugly faces was one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. Tall, dark, wearing a spotted cap and horn rimmed glasses, Mr Gorgeous was everything and nothing he'd ever seen before. He was taller than the others, thin, wearing a dark navy blue peacoat jacket. His face was crafted from the very finest of skin and hair, blurring together to create a beautiful visage that took his breath away. Sanji's mouth watered in a way he didn't notice until his chin felt sticky, and it was only because of his hard suction that drew their attention his way.

Humiliated by his own reaction once they recognized him as an employee, he snapped, "What the hell do you guys want?"

All of them froze, wearing stunned expressions at his harsh words as Sanji caught himself. With the way they were all dressed and cringed in reaction, he could tell this group belonged to beta male club. They were dressed near similar in colored khakis and boring jackets. Some had their hair hidden underneath hats that looked as if they'd survived the first two World Wars, and a couple had beanies. A few wore glasses; three of them carried backpacks while two held messenger bags. They all looked as if they'd just left some lecture hall; none of them looked like they had anything but ramen and coffee in weeks. They were a little older than him in appearance, but seemingly awkward in their own skin.

Sanji gestured at the nearby booths and tables. "I mean, please sit your asses down, you're dripping all over the goddamn floor."

"Are you…open?" one of them asked tentatively.

"Look at the sign, dumb ass. Does it say 'closed'? Anyway, how do you take your shitty coffee?" Sanji then asked, walking around the corner of the counter while throwing the broom into a nearby closet. He struggled to kill the shakiness out from his hands with loud cracks of his knuckles and fingers, red-faced from internal screaming over his own reaction and behavior.

There was some quiet discussion on whether or not to partake in the convenience of the café's wares, the menu looked over with consideration. Once a few items took their interest, the group gravitated towards a booth near the windows, and Sanji took a few deep breaths to gather his composure. He was sure this was just a fluke – a weird symptom of nicotine withdrawal. Surely when he turned around and looked again he wouldn't feel the same way as he did earlier.

After all, just because he was secretly attracted to men didn't mean he was actually going to act on it.

He drew up a tray and slammed cups onto it, along with the café's coffee of the day. His arm and hand suddenly started shaking violently once he realized that these strange feelings did not go away as he'd thought – every step closer to the booth brought him close to the man with the stern face and black goatee, the light from the window illuminating eyes so gold that they had to be contacts. The others looked like Gary Larson trolls compared to him with their plainer features and somewhat skittish behavior.

Sanji nearly dropped the tray out of sheer nervousness, gut gripped with such tight apprehension and awe that he momentarily blanked out on how to breathe. He slammed the tray down onto the table, a near miss that could have been potentially fatal to the café's insurance policy. With his chest held in such a tight grip, he pressed a hand to it and breathed steadily, heart racing and lungs struggling for breath. His legs felt shaky and his knees knocked – it was such an uncommon feeling that Sanji wasn't sure why this was happening to him every time he looked at the man.

Seeing his face turned in his direction caused a terrible zing! to Sanji's heart, threatening to completely stop its fast paced beating. He was so perfect up close that it was blasphemy to think that he possessed any flaws.

"Are you all right?" one of them asked in panic, hands reaching tentatively for him.

Sanji managed to let go of the tray and straightened up out of sheer, stubborn will, rattling the table contents.

"So, you losers decide what you want?" he asked crankily, pouring out five cups of piping hot coffee. "Don't even tell me you don't want this, because all of you have grossly yellow teeth from drinking too much of it, along with guts that suggest too much of the sugary Starbucks shit."

More than one of them self-consciously pulled at jackets and shirts in an attempt to hide from this observation. The human in a god's skin looked like he was attempting to lick his own teeth with his lips pulled tight.

"Well, it looks like we're going to be here awhile," one of them stuttered a little, giving a nervous look at the outside. "So how about the house special for each of us?"

Gritting his teeth out of sheer relief, Sanji nodded. Before any of them could open their mouths to make special requests, he snapped, "Don't even tell me you want gluten or sugar free shit because none of you look like you're suffering from any diet or allergy disease, and I don't want to cater to your sensitive guts because of it."

All of them once again looked at each other nervously, and Sanji snatched up the tray and stalked away, grateful he was able to. He heard one of them sip at their coffee and comment, "Wow, this is great!"

"I fear we're going to be killed in some way, here."

"Do we offend? Seriously?"

"If one of you survive, please tell my mom not to open my Secret Box underneath my bed. Thanks."

"Should I hold off on this Yelp review until after we get our food?"

Once inside the kitchen, Sanji slumped against the wall with relief. He could breathe easier, his heart rate returning to normal. He wiped his forehead, alarmed at the amount of moisture he removed with that action. He felt like he was going through some terrible drug withdrawal again, and it made him sick.

"Zeff! Your street rat is infecting the kitchen with some mysterious illness!"

"Get out of here if you're that sick!"

"Five specials, and not another word," Sanji threatened the pair of cooks looking over a newspaper on the counter. He picked up a nearby knife, waving it at them. "Or I cook you both medium rare and serve you to the dogs!"

"Zeff! He's threatening us again!"

"He has a crazed look in his eye, he's meth'ed up! Should I put him out of his worthless misery?"

"Quiet, all of you!" Zeff snapped at the three, glaring Sanji into dropping the knife onto the counter. One of his eyes narrowed. "Are you on something?"

"Not yet," Sanji assured him. He flapped his white shirt about, his sweat sticking to the fabric.

"Well, stop it. It's raining outside, so I expect more people to pop in. You finish your clean up?" Zeff then asked, glancing out the windows of the door to inspect the outside. "This isn't some mouse shop, we want to actually appeal to people who do stumble upon us."

"That all depends on these guys," Sanji complained. "If people hate the place, it's their fault for serving pure excrement."

"If anyone gets scared off from this place, it's all your fault because you have an ugly face," Carne threatened him with a frying pan as Patty chopped vegetables quickly.

"All of you are ugly," Zeff commented, causing three aghast expressions to turn his way. "That's why you're all doomed to a life of loneliness and misery here in the kitchen. Enough of this chatter – get to work on serving those customers."

Sanji returned outside, catching sight of more customers popping in from the outside. He greeted them cheerily, the women shaking out their jackets and umbrellas. He graciously showed them their seats and charmed them silly with compliments and gestures, serving them their drinks of choice. As he checked on the table full of nerd-men, he lost his footing and slammed up against the table because the man with the spotted cap had removed it to reveal neatly combed blue-black hair that seemed to frame the most perfectly symmetrical features he'd ever seen. All of them snatched up their coffee as it sloshed with the force of his trip.

Clawing to his feet and awkwardly brushing himself off, Sanji huffed and glared at all of them for their concerned attention. "What're you looking at? You want something else besides my time? Your food will be ready in ten minutes, stop your bellyaching!"

He walked off in a huff while the five looked at each other with concern.

"I was too afraid to ask for a refill," Shachi whimpered, looking into his empty cup.

"You think he's drunk?" Penguin asked, horrified. "Should we trust him with our food?"

"But he treated those ladies so nicely," Ptarmigan complained. "Maybe he has split personalities."

"The rain's not letting up, soon, so let's just wait it out," Law said, giving a grim look outside. His glasses had steamed up so he couldn't really see, and didn't feel like removing them to clean them after being treated to the waiter's ungraceful actions.

"This place is so cute, you have to admit," Hudson said with a pleased face, which was covered with a face mask underneath the brim of his hat. "Look at the little antiques!"

Once their attention was diverted once again to their surroundings, more than one face flushed with visible pleasure. Law ended up cleaning his glasses anyway, caught by the old-fashioned decorations and setup of the café. His mouth dropped with awe.

"They are so cute!"

"And the colors! It takes you back to some quaint English setting!"

"Oh, I love the smells, I want to ask what sort of oils they're burning, but I'm afraid to."

"Look at all the plants! Imagine how much care goes into those to allow them to grow that way!"

"The coffee alone excuses the waiter's bad personality."

"Oh, but we should eat sparingly – I felt totally self-conscious when he mentioned our guts."

"We should look into gym memberships…"

"Oh, man, do we have to?"

"It'll impress the ladies."

"The ladies!" most of them sighed, craning their heads to look at the table of women that had been catered so lovingly towards the back. Once they realized they were being looked at, the men quickly retreated their attention back towards their own table. A few seconds passed where they felt safe enough to lift their heads and cautiously look at each other.

Law cleared his throat as he fiddled with his coffee. "Has anyone had any success with their Tinder dates?"

"I swear once they find out my real height, they run in the other direction," Penguin said with a sigh. "Damn this half inch curse!"

"What are we doing wrong?" Ptarmigan asked, gesturing at himself. "We're destined to have good jobs, we live in nice places, we have respectable occupations. What's wrong with us?"

"Maybe they're intimidated by us," Law theorized, rubbing his chin. "We might have too respectable occupations and goals."

"It isn't fair!" Shachi cried. "Shouldn't the promise of being a treasured housewife drive them in to us in droves?"

"Maybe we should frost our hair and wear tank tops," Hudson murmured pensively.

"Or not brag about our Fortnite scores."

All of them looked bothered.

"Look, I've been reading up attentively to major female-guided Instagram posts," Ptarmigan said tersely, hand out. "Women want men who aren't fuckboys, who are well over six feet, can provide wine, and return phone calls. If we just follow those examples, we can prove ourselves to be worthy men."

"They won't even let us near them," Penguin complained.

"Maybe our looks turn them off," Law said with a tight frown, fiddling with his stiffly combed hair. The others gave each other sneaking looks of guilt.

"I thought we were pretty good looking guys," Shachi said with bewilderment, adjusting his sunglasses. "We take care of ourselves and dress appropriately."

"Aren't dark circles and eyebags a positive thing?" Hudson asked. "That's a sign of a hardworking man!"

"Maybe we dress too much alike," Penguin murmured, rubbing his chin.

All of them looked down at themselves – they pretty much wore the same uniform; khakis, button down shirts (in various colors and patterns), with bowties, ties or vests, and matching brogues because all of them thought it was a good idea to invest in real leather shoes. All of them had splurged on electronic watches, made sure to comb their hair and wore knock-off jackets that a celebrity was once spotted in.

"There's nothing wrong with our outfits," Law said with confidence, straightening his tie. "We look like future professionals, and that should be portrayed as such to assure them we are capable of providing."

"I like how these khakis round out my butt," Shachi said cheerfully, wiggling in his seat.

"I love your shirt because it has a fun pattern," Ptarmigan said to Penguin, who flushed with pleasure. "I wanted that one, but in green."

"I found it at Target! The brand they sell there has such soft material, like my underarms don't itch at all!"

"Maybe our teeth are too yellow?" Hudson said with concern, licking his own teeth.

"Damn that waiter for pointing out flaws I never noticed! Now I'm going to invest in a good charcoal cleaner!"

"Oh, tell me how that goes!"

"Oh, shh! Here he comes," Shachi hissed, all of them freezing up as Sanji kicked the kitchen door open with two full trays in his hands.

He wobbled in mid-step and nearly tripped as he grew close to their table – all of them cringed or held their breath, sure they were going to have food thrown at them but Sanji somehow managed to catch himself and catch a plate with the tip of his shoe. He slid it onto the table and dropped the tray within the center, exhaling harshly as he did so. Then he crossly dropped each plate in front of each man with a huff, retrieving the tray.

Despite the awkward fumble the food looked amazing, the scent catching the group's interest.

"I don't want to hear any complaints," Sanji warned them menacingly. "Because if any of you complain or I catch a review on Yelp, I will personally track you down and do terrible things to your insides because I know it'll be you. Got it?"

The group mumbled their assurances as he glared at each of them in turn before strutting off to the women, showering them with pretty words and compliments.

"Is…is he a Demon?" Shachi asked tentatively. More than one set of eyes lit up with fear.

Taking a bite, Law perked up. "Wow, this is insanely good."

"Holy shit, you're right!"

"Oh man, the flavors just pop out!"

"I don't even feel like drowning the eggs with ketchup or hot sauce!"

"Oh my god, it's melting perfectly on my tongue!"

"Should we give him a compliment?"

"No, don't, he'll take it as a threat of some kind. I want to finish this with my throat intact."

"You're right, it seems like he'll dig out my gallbladder with a teaspoon."

"Don't look too obviously, but look at the way he has those ladies' attention," Hudson whispered. Despite the warning, all of them craned their necks over the booth walls to see the women tittering with pleasure as Sanji charmed them with flowery words and promises.

Once they had their fill, all of them looked at each other with thoughtful frowns.

"How can we pull that off?" Shachi asked in a low whisper.

"Compliments are hard when you don't know what to compliment them on," Law insisted. "Where would you start?"

"No mention of their crazy cleavage or makeup, but he makes it sound like they were born perfect," Penguin hissed.

"I don't think I could be that obvious," Ptarmigan said shakily. "I get so tongue tied seeing big breasts right in front of me."

"We had decided at the beginning of this year that women will no longer intimidate us," Law said low, stuffing his mouth full and speaking like that. "So if that's what it takes to get their attention, then we should take notes."

"If he catches us looking at him, he's going to be mad at us!"

"Did you see how he caught that plate with his shoe? No man does that unless they had years of some martial arts training! That balance was too perfect!"

"Once again, we should sign up for the gym."

"Those big guys with muscles are going to laugh at us again."

"I couldn't take that humiliation."

"If one of us dresses up each time we go, it'll take the attention off the rest of us trying to gain!"

"Despite the service," Penguin said carefully, dapping at his mouth with a napkin, "that waiter probably gets laid a lot by the women that come here."

"Ugh, you're right!"

"We should come here often to take notes on what he's doing. Maybe it'll rub off on us," Shachi said with a startled look.

"Can we do that without looking like creeps?" Law asked with concern, goatee glittering with food crumbs.

"Ugh, wipe your face!"

"You eat like a pig!"

"You're embarrassing us!"

As Law wiped his face, Ptarmigan watched Sanji as he smoothly charmed the women into trying some of their desserts on display. Despite their protests, they looked eager for the brightly decorated slices of pie or cake that was produced to them on dainty plates and silverware. He drooled a little.

"I want dessert," he whispered longingly, still scraping his plate clean.

In what seemed like a flash of the eye, Sanji snatched his plate and glared furiously at him. "Control yourself! You could use a five mile walk after this! No dessert for you unless you finish exerting yourself after three months of regular gym-use!"

As he proceeded to snatch all their plates from them, he couldn't help but notice that Law still had some crumbs around his mouth. Sanji had a strange temptation to clean the man's face with his mouth.

"Oh, I would wipe your flesh clean with my tongue," he heard himself whisper hungrily before hastily catching himself. He cleared his throat as Law gave him a puzzled look, wiping at his face with a napkin. To the others, Sanji snapped, "If the rest of you pigs are through, wipe your damn faces and get the hell on out of here!"

He then slapped down their bill and strode off.

"He's so mean," Hudson whispered with a near quivering chin.

"I'm having flashbacks of the high school cafeteria," Shachi commented shakily, hugging his middle. "And that was years ago!"

"Those were terrible times," Law agreed with a sullen frown.

"But look at those ladies," Penguin hissed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "They obviously put in hours of gym work for those bodies, but are practically oozing over their dessert plates without regret! They've been put under some charm, so despite the way he treats us, we can learn a few things from him."

"But can we take the emotional and mental abuse?" Law questioned tentatively. "It felt like he spoke so aggressively towards me because I was the one to speak up repeatedly."

"Sorry about that."

"I automatically freeze whenever someone sounds threatening," Hudson whispered. "Like playing dead in front of a bear."

"Maybe he's just having a bad day," Ptarmigan said low. "He smells like a smoker, and we probably interrupted his smoke break."

"You're too compassionate!"

"But again…maybe he's a Demon?" Shachi said tentatively. "They're capable of that type of thing, tempting and manipulating one into doing things they shouldn't."

"Some humans are capable of pure talent without Demon abilities," Penguin said skeptically. Then he scoffed. "And he's obviously not a monster!"

"Take note of the hours here," Law then interrupted the debate. "Maybe we'll return at another day – those women took pictures of their food, no doubt posting to their social media. They'll give out recommendations to their friends, who are most likely female friends that are curious about the charming waiter and the food. This place will soon fill up with female customers, and we can take notes without him noticing while he's busy with them."

The others lit up.

"Great idea!"

"That's a high possibility!"

"I bet this will help us, too! If we endure his bullying, it might make us stronger dudes!"

"Okay, everyone, the total is an odd number. Who wants the fun in dividing it down to the closest cent?"

"I'm too full to think right now."

"I paid extra last time."

"I really want dessert…"

"Anyone who uses their phone calculator has to pay the total bill."

By the time the group left, leaving behind an exact percentage of a tip, Sanji felt it easier to breathe again. He couldn't believe how rocked he'd been by the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen – of all the women in the world, a man had drawn his attention. It was pretty unnerving because men had never rocked him this way. He cleaned their table, muttering darkly about the mess left behind – really, they were all pigs – but when he came to the place where Law had sat, leaving behind a crumbled napkin and scatterings of hashbrown bits, Sanji had to take a few moments to recover.

He sat in the exact same place Law had, amazed at how his body felt in response to the warmth left behind. He carefully scooped up remaining food bits that had escaped the man's plate, hand trembling. It took all he had to drop them on top of the plate pile he'd made, swearing up and down that he could feel the warmth of the man's mouth on them. His blood tingled in such a way that his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

"Oh, god, I want him to swallow my children," he whimpered morosely, hand to his chest.