Yeah, I'm rearranging my Fanfiction Net account, so you might see a few stories I originally posted as their own stories now added to the collection here. Please be patient with me. :D
One Piece isn't mine. So please don't sue me…
Signatures, rated T (language and sexual situation) My first ever fanfiction.
He was curled up on a broad, muscular chest, basking in the afterglow of an evening of passion. The soothing sound of Zoro's heartbeat thumped in his ear as he rested his cheek just below the swordsman's strong chin. For the past few moments his fingers traced idly over that broad expanse, hovering here and there when they encountered one of the many rough bands of scar tissue.
There was no missing the largest of them that ran diagonally over that well-toned flesh. Zoro earned that one at their first meeting. A wry smile touched Sanji's lips as he thought of how much had changed since then; if anybody even hinted that they would have someday become lovers, he would have kicked their asses all the way from the Baratie to the Grand Line. Then he remembered how only a short time later the swordsman stubbornly fought Arlong's merman for the sake of his drowning captain, never mind that he was gushing blood all over the place. That scar held a lot of meaning for both of them.
He slid his fingers from that blemish to the fainter lines that crisscrossed the swordsman's sun-bronzed torso. Remnants of battles fought and won by the santōryū left their mark, like a storybook of Zoro's life. Signatures of villains whose lives ended on the tip of his swords.
A large, calloused hand covered his own, pausing his searching fingers. Sanji glanced up to see the swordsman watching him from beneath sleep-hooded eyelids. "What are you doing, shitty-cook?" The whispered curse resounded like an endearment in his ears, and he chuckled.
"Just reminiscing, asshole." He sighed as a muscle-bound arm snaked up to clasp the cook in place.
"Hmph." Rough fingers traced his shoulder blade absentmindedly. "What about? All those idiots I sliced up?"
"No." The cook rose slightly to lean towards the other's face for a gentle kiss. "About the ridiculous amounts of blood you like to mark your battlefields with."
Zoro grunted, pulling Sanji back down to his chest. "I'm still alive, ain't I?"
"You're not allowed to go and die on me anyway, marimo-head."
"I don't plan on it." The swordsman's mouth opened wide into a yawn. "Now go back to sleep."
Sanji nestled his head back down into that junction of neck and shoulder where he seemed to fit so perfectly and smiled. As Zoro's snores began reverberating through the small room, he couldn't help but find peace in the thought that no matter how bloody or torn, the swordsman always returned to him. No matter how many scars he may accrue, Sanji's signature remained on his heart as an invisible mark of love.
Yah, I know the ending was a bit cliche. This was my very first fanfic ever, so it has its problems.
A/N: If you like this, add it to your 'Story Alert' so you know when another drabble is added!