Setting: Post Time-skip (Spoilers ahead if you're not updated with the manga xD)
Pairing: Established ZoSan
Rating: M for sex, alcohol and coarse language
Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda! :)
Special thanks to allbluewitness for beta-ing this story and to Chica for contributing to the plot. *Hugs*
A thin ray of brazen light escaped from a narrow slit between the dark, heavy draperies. Its beam traced through the opposite wall, to the ornate mahogany headboard of the queen-size bed perpendicular to it, and landed on the eyes, or rather, on the better eye of the sleeping swordsman. The nagging light may have prompted him to wake up, but his instinct made him apt to raise his right arm to guard his eye. The quilted duvet covering him slid a bit but he didn't bother to pull it back, exposing his naked, toned chest. What really made him more awake was the discomfort on his other arm: a feeling of being pricked all over by needles.
Zoro would have yanked his arm away from the weight that was pinning it down to let his blood flow if not for the other man sleeping on his side, placid and coy, over his numb arm. He could barely feel a familiar warm breath, one that reeked of cigarettes, on his shoulder. Unfazed by the light, he lifted his right arm to stretch his joints and gave a lazy yawn. He then rubbed his right eye and tilted his head to face his partner.
As he sensed the slight movement of his 'bed', Sanji produced a soft hum and furrowed his swirly eyebrows. His visible eye squinted, hinting that he was at least half awake. The cook shifted a bit to his right and lied on his stomach, making his forehead touch Zoro's tan cheeks and their bodies pile together. His golden hair caught the ray that was on the other's eye a while ago, giving a vibrant gleam.
To Zoro, it was more picturesque than any daybreak…more beautiful than the sun itself though he would rather not tell anyone about it.
With his lips, he made gentle pecks to brush off the fine strands of hair that was covering Sanji's visible eye. Zoro gave the man stacked atop him a light kiss on the forehead, placing it still. He would seldom display deep affection to the blond, except when he was asleep or just unaware. This time he couldn't help but be thrilled, although in secret, because after two painstaking years Zoro was able to be with his lover like this.
The blood in his left arm started to flow like an internal current, heavy, but with gradual ease. He lifted his muscular arms to wrap the duvet on themselves and trapped Sanji in an embrace; both their body temperatures and the cozy warmth provided by the thick fabric fused together. His veiny left hand made its way up on the cook's bare, costal back; his callous fingers outlined his protruding spine, light and almost tickling. It then found its way up to Sanji's golden hair and fondled it, feeling the distinct contrast to his thick palm. How he kept it soft and silky like a lady's was a mystery. The lazy swordsman opted to wallow in this affectionate idleness and tried to get back to sleep when he suddenly felt a burning pressure pinching his right cheek.
"What the hell are you doing, bastard?" His visible blue eye glared at Zoro, twitching. Sanji pulled the other's cheek harder; unfortunately for him it wasn't made of rubber like their captain's so he bloody made sure that Zoro would cringe from the pain.
"Ow!" Zoro's functioning eye squinted, wincing from the abrupt attack. His right hand grabbed Sanji's slender wrist. "Nngh…cut it out!" He jerked the hand away with his brute force and clutched it tight. His tan cheek became swollen and turned red. "What the hell are YOU doing in my bed, shitty cook?" Guilty of being mushy, his retort was just a bluff since he really didn't mind Sanji invading his space and comfortably creeping up to him, well, except for the pinching part.
"You idiot marimo!" The blond tried to pull away his left hand but Zoro's iron grip wouldn't budge. "How can you get lost in a little damn room? This is MY bed! The other one's yours!" Snarling, he pointed to the other queen-size bed on their right, with its linens still mitered tight.
With a scowl on his face, he turned to look in the said bed's direction where he also laid his precious swords and brought his gaze back to Sanji again. Dumbfounded, Zoro's eye blinked in response. "Oh." His firm grip hadn't loosened.
"Oh? That's all you had to say?" A vein popped on Sanji's forehead and his right hand attempted to pull the other wrist; he struggled to break free but in terms of upper body strength, Zoro was stronger. What kind of monstrous training did this buffoon go through and why the hell is he this STRONG?
The green-haired man avoided eye contact and pouted his lips. "Well, we tossed all of our clothes there last night so I thought we should sleep on this bed together." His other cheek also flushed when he recalled last night's events. His lips curled to a satisfied grin.
"Are you stupid? That's really lame!" With Zoro looking away, Sanji took this chance and mustered his power in his back. In one big yank, he swung back and managed to break free from his clutches; this tugged the swordsman closer, making the speck of light fall on his head instead. He gave a hearty chuckle though he was smirking. "Ooh, sunshine on the lawn. Good for your cultivation, Marimo-kun!"
Pissed (or so he pretended to be), he grabbed both of Sanji's wrists and unceremoniously got on top of him; the duvet slithered down, revealing the thin garter of Zoro's green boxers. He pinned down the cook by straddling him.
Sanji tried to squirm his way out, which caused his skimpy blue boxers to rub against Zoro's. "Oi, stop it already! I have to make breakfa-"
"KEEP IT DOWN!" A grumpy voice from the other side of the wall interrupted them. "You're waking everyone up!" She was heard loud and clear even though the mahogany door to their left connecting their rooms was locked on the girl's side. The two men vaguely understood what Nami the Sea Witch mumbled after a thick fabric rustled, possibly tucking herself again under the covers.
"Haaai, Nami-swaaaa-"
All of a sudden Zoro lunged forward to kiss Sanji on the lips, muffling whatever he was trying to say, still clasping his wrists. The three gold earrings that dangled on his left ear chimed softly from the motion. When the cook settled down, he prodded Sanji's chapped - but soft - lips with his tongue. His entry was permitted almost immediately , slick and suave, astonishing him that the blond was being rather docile. Their tongues engaged in a light but fervid 'swordfight'; Zoro closed his eye and loosened his grip over Sanji's wrists. He lifted his partner's lithe torso, slid one hand to support his head and the other beneath his back. He then cradled the cook down, pressing their hot bodies together.
Sanji wrapped his supple arms around Zoro's neck, his skinny but delicately toned muscles flexed a bit. He let out muffled moans and his eyelashes slightly flickered from the sensations. His left hand ran across his green hair, caressing its short, voluminous strands and urging him to plunge deeper.
Zoro understood that message and obeyed willingly. His tongue pushed forward; their lips sealed tighter for a deeper kiss. He took his time to savor his partner's flavor: bittersweet from nicotine and morning breath and dessert and whatever it was that made it so…
Zoro pulled back to let him breathe but he also found himself gasping for air. Their faces were still close, and both could feel each other's warm breath from panting. "Sssh…she told you to keep it down."
Sanji's pale cheeks felt warm, flushing a bright pink hue. In embarrassment, he averted his gaze to the ceiling, to the spot where a round, plate-like chandelier embellished with tiny rhinestones scattered like petalous fireworks clung. Fireworks, huh? "Ah!" Sanji's eyes (yes, even the one covered by his hair) widened after realizing something. "Oi, get off of me."
The dominating man buried his face on the cook's left shoulder. He kissed his long, scrawny neck and worked his way up to his ear. "Do you really mean that?" His voice was low and coquettish, almost like a whisper.
"Nnh…" Realizing that he was still clinging to Zoro, Sanji quickly withdrew his arms and tried to shove him away, but to no effect. His blush wasn't disappearing. "Get off. NOW."
"No."
Thud! "Gwoaa!" Zoro's eye popped out -blank and completely white- while his teeth gritted in pain. A sharp pang lashed on the back of his head, shocking his cranium.
What stunned him was Sanji's right foot, still deftly planted on the target, smoke emanating from the impact. He at least made sure not to crush his damn lover's skull. For him to reach that length in that position was truly commendable; his flexibility never failed him. He pushed the spastic Zoro away, laid him on his back, and broke away from the swordsman's embrace. Sanji stood up and turned to the mahogany drawer between the two beds where he kept his cigarettes and his lighter. He set one stick between his lips, lit it, and took a long drag. He sat facing Zoro on the other bed, reached for the glass ashtray on top of the drawer and laid it down on the carpeted floor between his feet. He glanced at the chandelier again and expelled the thick smoke upwards, blurring the rhinestones' shimmer.
"Damn you…" Zoro sat up limply and stroked his head, hoping to ease the pain. "I'll get your ass for this!"
Sanji's face displayed a smug expression. He bent down and flicked a chunk of ash. "Hah. You can't catch me, shitty swordsman." He bit the filter of his cigarette, stood up and approached the louvered sliding door on their right. He ran his long, thin fingers on one of the polished slats, feeling its smooth texture. "So everything here's made of mahogany, huh? Quite elegant." He reached for the engraved handle and slid the door open.
The dresser revealed two sets of familiar clothes. Sanji tidied up the green yukata that hung sloppily on the first hanger. Honestly…that slob. He gathered his forever formal garb that was hung piece by piece: slacks with a matching double-breasted jacket -both black- and a long-sleeved olive polo shirt, all crisp and wrinkle-free. His left hand held them by the hanger and the other opened the upper deck of the side drawers. He took a neatly stashed pair of long, black socks, black leather belt, and two glossy neckties, royal blue and bottle green. He hung them on his left and arm and bent down to reach for his black, polished leather shoes.
From where Zoro was sitting, he could keep a good eye on the cook's…butt? Yes, the closet pervert of a swordsman was gawking at Sanji's pert bottom which was swaying with his every movement. He could thank his lucky stars (well, he believed in them just this once) that Sanji was wearing skimpy boxers.
"What're you looking at?" Sanji almost caught the swordsman ogling at him when he headed back to the unoccupied bed. He placed down his shoes beside the ashtray, jostled away the used clothes and laid down his garments neatly, one by one. He sat on the bed again and continued to smoke. "Aren't you going to get dressed yet?" He only got a pensive stare in response. Lazy-ass pervert. Sanji finished his cigarette, exhaled the last fine swirls of smoke and disposed of it, placing the ashtray back on top of the drawer. He put on his socks which extended up to the half of his long, fuzzy legs and donned his low-waist slacks, zipping them snug. He slid on his belt, wrapping his slender hips, and shut the pricey-looking brass buckle.
Zoro lied on his side facing Sanji, left elbow planted on a pillow and chin set on his palm. "Aren't you gonna shave? Your stubble's itchy." He lightly scratched his thoroughly sculpted abs, almost languid in motion.
"No." He bent down and put one shoe. He could see his own reflection on the polished surface. "I'll keep it like that. I like how manly I look with it."
"So the princess decided to grow a moustache, huh? Trying to get all macho or somethin'?" That last bit was more of a serious question rather than sheer mockery.
"Haha, very funny." You don't friggin' know what kind of HELL I've been to! His nostrils flared a bit upon remembering his 'trainers'. He slowly put on another shoe, mulling if he should kick the moss head or not. Knowing that he would be late for his morning schedule if he frolicked with the swordsman, Sanji proceeded to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Sanji pulled open another louvered mahogany door past the dresser. The first thing that he stumbled his eyes upon was the toilet. Good thing this one's not made of mahogany! He turned to his left where the broad, marble sink and the mahogany-framed mirror were fixed. The blond scoured the medium-sized wicker basket laid near the sink. There were two small tubes of used shampoo, bath gel, cuetips, two dental kit boxes and…small, empty tubes of lotion. That bastard's horrible sense of direction saved my ass…if he wasn't such a lost, hopeless idiot, he wouldn't have found this lotion! He grimaced at the thought of being thankful to Zoro. He unraveled the contents of the dental kit and started brushing his teeth. Oh, mint. This rest house sure does have nice amenities.
He brushed for more than two minutes; after that, he used the small glass provided to gargle and rinse the toothpaste but the taste of mint still lingered. He returned the toothbrush in the box and grabbed a hand towel from the towel rack above the toilet to wipe his face. Sanji looked at himself in the mirror, contemplating his looks. This stubble looks good on me…doesn't it? He ruffled his hair in annoyance, but combed it with his fingers at once. Yes it does, because I'm a MAN! Sanji blinked a few times, a realization came in. Fine…so I slept with an idiot marimo, but he's going to be the best swordsman in the world so that makes me a REAL man! He was having a silent fit all by himself but he sighed, admitting his defeat. He could also see the tub behind him in the mirror, reminding him of 'something memorable' that had happened last night. His pale cheeks became hot and rosy again. Yeah, right. As if totally submitting myself makes me reeaaally manly…
After a few more minutes, he got over his untimely musing and went out of the bathroom, only to find that Roronoa Zoro had not moved an inch.
"Oh, you're finally out of the bathroom, woman." He was really good at giving insults while keeping a stoic expression.
A vein popped on Sanji's forehead and smoke emanated from his whole body, as if it was set ablaze by the word 'woman'.
The swordsman sighed in annoyance, though implicitly concerned. "Tsk. What's got your panties in a bunch?" He sat up, shoving the duvet away with his feet.
The steaming cook didn't say anything; he reached for the drawer to grab a cigarette, lit it vigorously, and inhaled a good lengthy drag, burning almost half of the stick. He furiously dipped the stick in the ashtray which caused a loud thud along with the sound of a glass cracking. He rapidly exhaled the smoke like a runaway train, walked up to the heavy drapes and unfurled them as if he were dispersing heavy slabs of stone. Sanji turned to face Zoro, bearing a golden lining that defined his gangly silhouette. "Ahh! Nice weather we're having today eh, Zoro?" His panting evanesced and felt more relaxed after vexing out a tantrum.
Zoro's eye squinted from the sudden brightness, furrowing his arched eyebrows. "Oi cook, did you hit your head on the toilet?" And didn't you just brush your teeth?
"Oh, so you're concerned about me?"
"Shut up." Seems he's back to normal…
Sanji slinked his way to the bed where he laid his clothes. He removed his polo shirt from the mahogany hanger, slid his supple arms in the sleeves, and buttoned the cuffs in place. "Hey muscle-head, aren't you supposed to be doing something?" He started doing the lowest button, making his way up.
"Yeah."
"Then why aren't you moving?" Sanji tucked his shirt in his pants, ran his hands across the sleek, cottony fabric to straighten it, smoothening out any wrinkles. He then grabbed both neckties, one in each hand. "Hey, which color looks better?"
"Green."
"Yeah. You LOVE green." The cook stood in front of the full-length mirror beside the dresser; he held the glossy royal blue tie to his chest, testing its harmony with the color of his polo shirt. "I think this blue looks good…but why did you pick green?"
Go figure it out yourself, dumb blond. Zoro blinked a few times and looked away to completely hide his face from Sanji's view. "Tch. Fussing over simple things."
"Yeah, yeah." He put back the royal blue necktie in the dresser drawer and rolled the glossy bottle-green around his collar. He looked at himself in the mirror again, did his necktie, and fixed his collar. "Hmm…this green is fine, I guess." Well, since he's a bit of a narcissist he thought he'd look good in ANYTHING. Sanji was adjusting his tie when suddenly a strong force tugged his shoulders and shoved him to a wall; his back had thumped against it. "What the hell are you doing, shitty marimo?"
Zoro had sallied out on him, spread his arms and placed his palms flat on the wall, trapping Sanji. He moved his face forward and licked the cook's jutting Adam's apple. Zoro could feel him shivering from the sensation. What a sensitive body he has…
Sanji gasped from the sudden approach which also made him tilt his head up. He swallowed down his throat, causing his Adam's apple to surge up and down, nudging it further into the hot mouth that was tickling and sucking it. "Sss…top that!" He tried pushing his passionate assailant, and even though he could kick him to oblivion, he was also enjoying himself. Damnit! You're gonna make my nose bleed again!
The swordsman stopped licking but his lips were still planted on his neck. He breathed warm air on it and spoke. "We're not done yet. You're not going anywhe-"
Out of nowhere, a ludicrous grumbling sound loomed inside the room, overwhelming the turned-on mood they were having.
Both men stared at each other for a few seconds without blinking before Sanji burst into a chaffy laughter.
"So the great swordsman's hungry! Look at you…" He lifted Zoro's buffed arms and strutted his way to get his jacket.
"Tch. Screw this, I'm going back to sleep!" He stomped to his bed and enshrouded himself in the cold duvet. He left his eye uncovered though, so he could take a peek at what the blond was doing. He fancied how svelte Sanji was wearing that double-breasted jacket.
Sanji headed to the drawer to get his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, and put it in his hip pocket. He noticed the green mane peering out from the duvet; he chuckled at how silly it looked and ruffled it. "Don't be late for breakfast."
"Un." He yanked the bony hand away and covered himself completely.
"And don't lose your way to the dining hall, okay?"
"Fuck you."
"Haha, you big idiot." And so he walked to the mahogany door, took a last look at their room number, and made his exit.
The sound of the door shutting resonated in the entirety of the room, followed by a deafening lull…
Damn, I should've asked where the dining hall is!
No, I'm not discriminating against blonds. And please don't use lotion and other oil-based creams IRL as substitute for lube. Use water-based lubes instead. xD