The evening had settled into one of those comfortable hangouts the five of you had fallen into over the years. Bepo had lasted all of an hour before yawning for what felt like the hundredth time, apologizing profusely for being tired before shuffling back inside the house. No one had stopped him—if anything, Penguin had teased him about having the sleep schedule of an old man, earning an embarrassed laugh before the front door clicked shut behind him.

That left you, Shachi, Penguin... and Law.

Your motorcycle was parked nearby, and Shachi had just finished his turn riding on the back with you, pulling off his helmet with a huge grin. "Dude, that never gets old!"

"You say that every time," Penguin laughed, already stepping forward. "Now it's my turn."

"It was your turn!"

"You took longer!"

"You talk too much while we're riding!"

The two immediately dissolved into their usual bickering, neither of them actually upset as they argued over whose turn lasted longer. They'd always loved riding with you, practically racing each other to claim the passenger seat whenever you brought the motorcycle around.

A few feet away, Law remained leaned against the porch with his arms crossed, watching everything with an unimpressed expression. He'd never liked motorcycles. They were too fast, too dangerous, and he'd seen far too many injuries caused by them to ever willingly get on one.

"You're all going to end up in my clinic one day," he muttered.

Shachi exchanged a glance with Penguin.

"...You know."

Penguin grinned.

"I've got an idea."

Law's eyes narrowed immediately.

"...No."

"You don't even know what we're gonna say."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I do."

Shachi pointed dramatically toward your motorcycle.

"Ride."

"No."

"Just once."

"No."

"You've never even been on one."

"I've also never willingly jumped off a building."

Penguin threw his hands up dramatically.

"You're impossible!"

"I'm alive."

"Coward."

"I'm a doctor."

"Exactly! If anything happens, you'll know what to do!"

Law pinched the bridge of his nose.

The two immediately began pestering him, insisting that he should try it at least once. Law repeatedly refused, but after several minutes of their constant nagging, he finally sighed in defeat.

"Fine. One ride," he said, pointing at them. "And after this, you two never bring it up again."

"Deal!"

"Absolutely."

Law immediately regretted his decision.

He reluctantly walked over to the motorcycle, eyeing it suspiciously before carefully climbing onto the back. He sat stiffly for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do with himself before finally Law reluctantly reached forward.

His fingers gathered a careful fistful of the back of your shirt, gripping the fabric just tightly enough to steady himself without fully wrapping his arms around you.

"...Don't make this weird," he muttered, refusing to look at anyone.

Behind him, Shachi and Penguin were already trying—and failing—not to laugh.

"Look at him."

"He's terrified."

"I'm not terrified."

Law's grip on your shirt tightened ever so slightly.

After a moment, he muttered quietly, "...Just drive carefully."