🎙️Tell Me More. (Podcast!AU Trafalgar Law x Eustass Kid)

The Cure In Ink.

🎙️

Kid sprayed the disinfectant on the leather chest pad and brushed it with an alcohol wipe. The radio in the corner of the saloon went into short static, then resumed playing the latest pop hits.

It had been at least an hour since the last coworker bid him goodbye while he stayed behind to work on some new designs. He already put his tools in an autoclave and he would do so again before each client; the process of sterilizing always felt satisfying to him.

Kid scratched gently at his nose. It still seemed pretty fragile.

Despite his attitude leaning heavily against taking work home, he was hunched over a few unfinished sketches afterhours. Technically, that wasn't breaking any of his rules. He wasn't home, yet.

The door chimed. Kid scowled and lifted the pencil off of his sketch. "We're closed!"

There was no response, only the sound of footsteps in the waiting room. The tattoo parlor itself consisted of smaller rooms, all doorless and connected, but Kid still had to move from his workstation to see the newcomer.

"Oi, are you deaf? It's closed!" Kid threw the pencil down and marched to inspect the sound.

He stopped in the doorway.

Law was leaning against the counter, his hair sticking to his forehead and raindrops dribbling down onto the front of a loose white shirt. His gold earrings reflected the bright light of the parlor. When Kid walked in, Law lifted his gaze. What was that in his eyes? Shame? Anger? Defeat?

Kid didn't want to be the first to disrupt the silence, but Law didn't seem eager to do so himself. He only stared with that weird look in his eye. Kid had never seen him like this.

He knew they would have to face each other eventually and reach a mutual agreement about the future of their podcast. Kid felt he was up for the task of continuing it alone. He enjoyed the gig. It would be more difficult, without someone outlining each episode and coordinating its course, but Kid would manage.

He had taken this train of thought multiple times over the past few days and each time he stopped before his anger turned into something much harder to control. And now that Law was actually standing before him, silent and stiff as a piece of cardboard... Kid hoped his jaw still hurt.

"Well? What's Mr. Medicine doing in such a lowly parlor as this one?" Kid snarled. "Don't tell me you're here to ask how the talk show went. And how did you know the address?"

"Ace-ya gave it to me," Law replied in a rigid voice. He fiddled with the earrings on his right ear. 

"Then what the fuck do you want?" Seeing as Law was still having difficulty voicing his thoughts, Kid turned his back on him and returned to where he left his sketches. He picked one and held it out in his hand, imagining it on skin. Not bad, but he personally wouldn't choose it.

Then, somewhere among visualizing a better alternative for the sketch and trying to ignore Law's shadow at the doorframe, a revelation sprouted.

"You're here because the results are in, yeah?" Kid said without turning his head. "You already know you want out of our contract?"

Even though Kid didn't know anyone in medical school, he imagined a bunch of skinny-fat nerds with backs bent into question marks and stress-induced acne who barely had time to take a shower, let alone pursue hobbies. And he had no doubt Law would be just like that - even when he studied to get into med school, he already had little to no time for any meaningful rest.

Not that Kid had paid it much attention. It was just that Law was always in a hurry, always checking his watch and planning the rest of his day - it drove Kid insane.