Chapter Two: Knife Accidents
There's a lot of smut here. Do not read if you're not a) legally allowed to or b) prudish. Otherwise, grab your vibrators, this is smut two years in the making. Also, I do not own One Piece in any way, shape or form.
"I just don't know what happened, Robin-chan," Sanji said, speaking into the phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he needed both hands to whisk the egg whites for meringues. "It's been two weeks, and I think she's avoiding me."
"Nami has her own problems, Sanji. You know, with Arlong?" Robin tried to be tactful, but Sanji could tell it was a conversation she didn't want to have. He remembered the fishy smelling asshole, and remembered wanting to smash his face because Nami had been crying, but that was a long time ago. The details were fuzzy, and he'd gotten the shit kicked out of him by five of Arlong's lackeys.
He was about to ask her something else, when he heard someone's voice on her end, and knew someone at work was probably demanding her attention. Since he could hear her indistinct reply and her decidedly more rushed tone when she got back on the phone, he wasn't surprised when she only said, "I have to go, new shipment of ponyglyphs just arrived. Bye."
He chuckled a little. Robin was usually so composed and collected, but she did love her work at the museum. She'd probably be AWOL for a few days, and then would turn up at their next group meeting a few weeks later with very little explanation, and they would all understand. They'd been friends for long enough to understand each other's quirks.
He was just about to put his phone away to focus on the meringues, when it rang again. With his lightening fast reflexes, he managed to whisk the bowl of fluffy egg whites away to catch his phone on his foot and flipped it back up to his shoulder to answer it.
"Hello?" He answered absentmindedly. He wasn't really paying attention, though. His egg white really were shaping up nicely, and the meringues would make a nice peace offering for Nami. Her sweet tooth was a sure way to get through her defenses.
"-And I can't carry Nami, anyways, she's too big!" Chopper finally got Sanji's attention by saying her name.
"Take that back, Nami is perfectly sized!" Sanji yelled into the phone.
"She's too big for me to carry! I'm a reindeer! Besides, I have to finish my shift!" Chopper hollered back at him.
"Wait, why do you have to carry her and why is Nami-san AT THE HOSPITAL?" Sanji's voice pitched to the slightest edge of hysteria at the thought.
"She passed out and -"
The bowl of meringues thumped onto the floor, spilling the sweet fluff all over Sanji's immaculate kitchen floor. Sanji didn't even notice - he was already out the door.
Sanji may have broken every speeding law in the book to get to the hospital, but he was there in under six minutes. He charged through the emergency doors in a tearing hurry. He dodged the two male nurses who tried to block his way, and was through the swinging door before the head nurse had gotten around the front desk.
"CHOPPER!" He shouted, sticking his head into every room in the emergency room corridor, "I'm sorry Madam - CHOPPER WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU - Pardon me - DAMMIT CHOPPER YOU ASSHOLE."
"Sanji, we're here!" Chopper had to dodge an errant bed pan that someone had thrown at Sanji, but missed. It hit his torso, since the reindeer was hiding his face, not his torso, and spattered water all over his doctor's whites.
Sanji backed out a room where someone was crying hysterically over a hospital bed to jog three more rooms down. Chopper started to talk to him, but Sanji had to see Nami to see the worst. Was it an infection? How bad was it? Her sleeping face would be...
Very, very red?
"Nami-san? You're awake?" Sanji goggled. He whirled back to Chopper, who was scowling at him.
"I was trying to tell you that, you big dummy!" Chopper scolded. Sanji blushed, feeling both extremely embarrassed and very relieved that she was okay.
"I sliced my hand while I was cutting meat," Nami muttered, not meeting his eye. "I was on the phone with Usopp when it happened. He called the ambulance for me."
"Good for Usopp, then," Sanji sank to his knees in front of the chair she was sitting on to get a better look at her bandaged hands. He was too preoccupied with her injuries to notice that she'd turned an even darker shade of red. "What happened?"
"She just fainted from anemia and blood loss from a knife wound," Chopper told him. "We gave her a blood transfusion and she's not bleeding any more, but she shouldn't be straining the hand, nor driving around, and she needs to be awakened to take her antibiotics, and someone needs to help her change her dressing if it gets wet and generally help her out. It's a deep cut, and she needs to be monitored. That's why I called you. I can't take her home and everyone else is busy, so..."
Nami's head whipped up, "No, it's okay, I can get myself home!" She protested. She couldn't help adding snarkily, "I'm sure Sanji's busy, too, with his new restaurant and his new girlfriend."
Sanji blinked. How had she learned about that? He'd refused to cooperate with his family's plans, begged for Pudding's help in making the Big Mom Conglomerate understand, and refused to attend the...press... conference...
They wouldn't have...
Sanji wanted to groan. It would be just like his family to announce the marriage and business merger without him, even though he would be the central figure. He'd have to deal with them later.
"That doesn't matter right now," Sanji said gently, but firmly, "Nami-san, you need to go home and get some rest, and Chopper and the Hospital needs the room back." He put his annoyance with his family aside - he'll deal with it later.
Nami almost felt like she should protest more, just on principle, but Chopper was already getting the wheelchair, and Sanji... Well, she was always surprised by how strong Sanji was. He looked so skinny. Well, perhaps not skinny, but he definitely looked toned. Toned and delicious...
She wanted to smack herself for letting her mind wander like that. The point was that Sanji was strong enough to gently pick her up and place her gently in the wheelchair, then take the handles from Chopper to wheel her out of the damn hospital. She was so tired, and she just wanted to find a soft bed and curl up to sleep...
By the time they'd reached her place, Sanji was really worried.
Intellectually, he knew he didn't have to avoid waking her up. She'd lost too much blood, not conked her head. He didn't have to make sure she was still conscious. Even still...
Sanji tried to wake her up so she could walk into her place, only to have Nami simply moan at him and bat his hands away. She simply refused to get up. Sanji didn't have the heart to try any harder, so he did the only thing a true gentleman could do: he gently gathered her into his arms and carried her through the door like a groom carrying his new bride over their threshold.
Except that he was carrying a girl who could barely stand him through the lobby of her condo building. In front of all her gawking neighbours. While she wrapped her arms around him like a trusting child, and buried her nose in the crook of his neck.
God, she smells good.
It took a bit of juggling with her purse, but Sanji finally managed to get them through the door to her apartment in one piece. However, his plan to tuck Nami into her bed, set an alarm clock with her next dose of antibiotics beside it, and slip out went awry when, when he went to let her go, she moaned.
"Bell-mere, don't go."
It wasn't the words. The words didn't really mean anything to him - he didn't know who Bell-mere was. It was the way she sounded, because it reminded him of how he'd felt, watching that white stretcher leave his mother's room.
So he kept holding her, kicking off his shoes so he could keep holding her in bed. In her sleep, Nami nuzzled closer to him, and all he could think was I hope this is worth the lumps she's going to wake me up with.
She didn't wake him up with love taps, though. She woke him up by sobbing and grasping at his shirt collar. Sanji hadn't been able to sleep much to begin with, staying in a watchful doze because he'd been worried about Nami. But when her injured hand had gone to his neck, his face, he'd been worried enough to immediately reach for the painkillers Chopper had given him.
She wasn't crying because her hand hurt. Nami was still asleep, but moaning restlessly because of a bad dream. She was rapidly mumbling something that Sanji had to strain to hear.
"No, Belle-mere, run," She whimpered. "Arlong's coming to for you. Run away Belle-mere. He'll kill you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm a bad daughter. I don't want you to die. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have dated him. I'm sorry."
He couldn't bear to listen any more. Acting instinctively, he kissed and soothed her brow, murmuring something incoherent. She settled a bit, but kept her nose buried in his collar. Still, there was a desperation with which she clutched at him with her uninjured hand. Sanji stroked her hair until she relaxed. He knew her whimpers and the haunting feeling that she'd hate him for knowing, much less slaying her demons, would torment him for a long, long time.
Nami might've been awakened by the dull throbbing pain in her hand, but she stayed in bed with her nose buried in a warm pillow because she was just so damn comfortable.
She didn't want to wake up, because she knew from experience that if she did, the scent would disappear. She hadn't smelled the scent since she was an irresponsible teen, in her mother's kitchen. God, she missed it. Even with all the anti smoking campaigns, Nami still loved the scent of a freshly smoked hand-rolled cigarette. She missed Bell-mere.
But she had to live her life moving forward, which meant getting up and dealing with the increasing pain in her left hand. When she opened her eyes a crack, though, the smell didn't disappear.
Her eyes popped open.
To see a neck.
It was quite a nice neck, all muscled like the chest she was lying on top of, with an elegant Adam's apple and a light dusting of dirty blond fuzz...
Her eyes narrowed. It would be the one dirty blond she'd been trying to avoid all week. Trust him to take advantage of the situation. Lech.
She violently shoved away from the very comfortable chest she'd been lying on, pushing Sanji, who'd been dozing, off the bed, along with half the pillows and half the comforter.
"Oof," He grunted, rubbing his head. He looked up blearily at her, the sleepy, disgruntled look changing once he'd realized why he was suddenly sitting on the floor. "Good morning Nami-san. How's your hand feeling?"
"My hand?" Nami blinked, then winced when she looked at it. Shoving him off the bed had caused her hand to throb painfully, and it looked like new stains were appearing on the bandage.
"Here, let me," He reached for her hand, but Nami scooted backwards.
"No," She scowled at him, "First explain why you were in my bed. Sleeping with me." She narrowed her eyes at him, "I wasn't coherent enough to consent to anything last night, you know."
Sanji scowled right back, "Contrary to your beliefs, I am a gentleman. You wouldn't let me go."
"No way," she scoffed.
A twinge of something crossed his face, and she felt an answering ripple of guilt. But that couldn't be right. Men always took advantage, when they got an inch.
"You're still dressed in what you were wearing yesterday." He pointed out, "So am I. I didn't take advantage of you, Nami, and I'm insulted you'd accuse me of doing something to you without your consent."
Nami looked down, and realized he was right. She was still wearing the yoga pants and crop top she'd been wearing yesterday since she'd been expecting a day of running errands. There was even a blood stain on her pants from when she sliced her hand, and a tomato stain from the pasta sauce she'd been making. She felt gross.
She looked at him. Damn him for always looking suave, even when he was scruffy with stubble. She'd never seen him like this. He was definitely still wearing the same white shirt and jeans he'd been wearing when he crashed into the emergency room yesterday. His normally impeccable designer loafers weren't there, but he was still wearing socks. The whole thing made him look ridiculously cute, sprawled at the side of the bed like that. There was a smudge of lipstick on his collar, and Nami was about to say something snarky about him finding the time to make out with someone, when she realized that it was her colour. That would also explain the smudge of foundation and mascara on his shoulder. She had some fuzzy memories of him carrying her, cradling her head against his shoulder.
She wanted to put her face into her hands and groan. She probably looked like a mess right now, and she'd accused him of taking advantage of her, when he'd probably taken care of her all night. And she thanked him for all his help by dumping his ass off the bed.
"Here," While she was indulging in her wallowing self pity, Sanji had picked himself off the floor and approached her with antiseptic and a roll of bandaids. He gently took her injured hand in his and started unwrapping the old bandages.
Nami tried to tug her hand away, but he simply held onto her wrist to keep it there. "As talented as you are, Nami-san, I don't think you can tie your bandages single handedly. You might've split something open back there."
When she shoved him off the bed. She understood, but Sanji was too tactful to say it. She swallowed her pride and humiliation.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have accused you of... of impure intentions. Thanks for helping me," Nami mumbled.
Sanji only nodded, then shot a mischievious look at her, "I have impure intentions towards you, but I would prefer you were awake for them."
Nami blushed and smacked him on the shoulder with her free hand. Sanji laughed, and at that moment, she knew they were okay again. There was still an itchy... thing between them that made her aware of how gentle his fingers were, and how close he was, but they could put it behind them, now they could joke about it.
Sanji didn't say anything more while he clucked his tongue over the newly opened cuts, and she winced when he disinfected them. He was gentle, though, and Nami could get a makeup wipe for her face while he worked. It was such a tranquil, convivial moment that she should've known it wouldn't last.
"So who's Belle-Mere?" Sanji asked once he finished tying up her bandages. All the relaxation suddenly deserted Nami and she stiffened defensively.
"None of your damn business. How do you know about her?" Nami narrowed her eyes.
"Her eh? I guess I don't have to be worried about competition," He said, but the joke fell flat. Nami was still tense, watching him defensively. She was on her guard again.
He sighed, "You wouldn't let me go last night. You kept calling me 'Belle-Mere' - that's why I slept in your bed and not on your couch like I was planning to."
Again, Nami felt hot shame wash over her. Why was she so defensive about everything with him? She relaxed, and drew herself into a ball against her headboard. She hated talking about Belle Mere, but he had a right to know after last night. It was the scent of his cigarettes.
"She was my mother. Not my birth mother, but in everything but blood, she was my mother, just as Nojiko is my sister," She said, chin on her knees. Sanji watched her, keeping his distance. She was glad. She didn't think she could bear it if he touched her now.
"She found us when I was just a baby, and Nojiko just a toddler. She used to be a gang member, and during a firefight with another gang, she found us in their abandoned hide out. She rescued us." Nami didn't notice Sanji's hands ball into fists. She just continued with the story. "She quit, afterwards. She had her gang's blessing, if you could call it that - there wasn't any room for children in the Marines. She went back to her family farm, the one she'd run away from, to give us a life. If it was really well guarded, if we were extraordinarily shielded, well, I never really thought about it. We were never rich, but we were always loved. Always provided for. Always."
She didn't see Sanji shift closer, didn't see the tears drip down her face. She had to get it out now, couldn't stop even if something had exploded.
"I met this guy called Arlong when I was in high school, at the local shopping mall. At first it was just a date. He was exciting, you see. An older guy, kinda of cute if a little fishy, and an older guy with money who wanted to spoil me," The tears were flowing now. "When Belle-Mere found out, she was so angry, but she was also so scared. I didn't notice it then, but looking back, I can see the fear, now. So I was a brat. I went on another date with him, told him our address so he could come pick me up. I wanted to show her his nice car, you see. Show her I could find a nice guy to take care of me, to take care of us."
Her hands were trembling now, and Sanji was sitting right beside her. He took her hands, and miraculously, the shaking stilled. The small gesture gave her the strength to continue.
"Arlong arrived to pick me up for our date, you see, but instead of picking me up with roses, he came with 20 men and guns. Turns out he was just using me to find her, to get revenge for that day years ago when she'd found me and Nojiko and deprived them of prime child slaves. They gave her a choice - save us, or save herself. She chose us."
Nami had to stop then to wipe her tears.
"He decided that he liked me well enough, and decided to keep me as his woman. At that point, I was ready to cut his throat myself, but he told me he'd come back and kill everyone - Nojiko, everyone in the neighborhood if I didn't. I couldn't go to the police - Arlong had them all on his payroll, and I couldn't risk my sister or the neighbourhood. those people helped Belle-mere raise me. So I went. He sent me to University because he wanted me to learn enough meteorology so I could help him move drugs across the sea, and by then, he'd come to think that I loved him, and that I wanted to be part of his gang. So... he let me go."
She'd stopped. She was no longer crying, but Sanji still wanted to hold her more than he wanted his next breath. But he knew if he touched her now, she would never finish the story. And she needed to finish the story more than she needed the meager comfort that he could provide.
So he waited, and broke his heart for her with every silent second that passed.
"I don't know what love is!" She burst out, finally. There were no more tears, but her eyes were hot burning coals. "Arlong loved me, in his own twisted way. He made love to me, and took care of my needs. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so stupid and let me go to university. He genuinely believed that I loved him too. And he was kind to me, in his own way."
"No, Nami," Sanji said quietly but firmly, "he wasn't."
"He was!" She insisted, "There were these other gang members who tried… Well, they tried to… Look, I was dressed for a date. I was trying to look cute, especially since I was dating an older boy." Her mouth twisted into a mockery of a self-deprecating smile. "I was probably dress a little too slutty for a –"
"No!" This time Sanji's voice was more authoritative, and Nami finally looked at him in surprise, "Nami, you cannot blame yourself for that. You can't blame yourself for any of it. You were a young girl, flattered by an older guy, who was a predator, a murderer, a monster. He killed your mother." At that she flinched, but Sanji was done sitting passively and letting her shoulder at such an enormous burden of guilt. He moved closer and gently cupped her face in his hands when she would've looked away from him.
"He killed your mother, kidnapped you, and terrorized you by holding the lives of everyone you knew and loved hostage. He raped you. You were with him through coercion, you couldn't have said no. None of that is your fault." He saw the hope battled with the guilt on her face.
Sighing, he let go of her and sat back, but he didn't break their eye contact. "And he didn't love you. When you love somebody, you want them to grow, to flourish, to be the amazing person that they are. You would rip out your own heart before you caused them even a moment of pain. You just want to be blessed with their presence for as long as they allow you there. That's how I feel about you."
Nami's breath caught in her throat when she saw the intent look on Sanji's face. She had seen that hunger before, in the elevator. "Sanji –"
"Don't. We can talk about it later," he interrupted her. "What happened to Arlong? Is he –"
"No." She said quickly. "Do you remember that night you all came for me? Back in second year."
Sanji remembered. He remembered that Nami hadn't shown up for classes for a few weeks, and he had gone of his mind with worry when her sister, Nojiko, had turned up at the college looking for her. When Nojiko hadn't found Nami there either, she had refused to tell them where she was going to look next, until Sanji had begged her. She had given in, and had led him, Luffy, Zorro, and Usopp to the wharf where they'd found a gang of street toughs and a badly beaten Nami. Sanji had been too preoccupied with first getting to, and then protecting Nami as the other three took care of the rest the gang to wonder why they had taken her in the first place.
There hadn't even been a trial afterwords. They had been scolded for their vigilantism, and the police had pretended the whole thing had never happened. The gang of toughs were wanted for several crimes already, and all Sanji had cared was that they were never getting out.
Sanji realize now that the police hadn't been embarrassed by a bunch of kids doing their job, they had want to keep Nami's name out of it. Even if she had been coerced to help the gang, she would have still faced drug charges if her involvement in the gang had come out. This way, her involvement and that chapter of her life had been quietly buried so that even her closest friends had not known.
"I see," it made their relationship more clear to him. He'd carried her out of that warehouse, swearing bloody vengeance. He'd been by her bedside when she woke, and had been confused and hurt when, after she woke up, she had distanced herself from him. He'd tried desperately to restore the flirtatious camaraderie that had marked their friendship from that first day with the pizza slice. But while the sexual tension had still fizzed every time they were near each other, her determination to maintain her distance made him do ridiculous and awkward things to close it.
He made her feel vulnerable, he realized.
"I'm sorry," Nami whispered.
She wasn't sure she was ready for him to forgive her yet.
He knew what he said next would potentially be his last chance to bridge this chasm between them. The magnitude of the moment almost paralysed him, until he swallowed, and made a decision.
Sighing, he got to his feet again. "You must feel gross. You haven't had a chance to clean up since the hospital. You should take a shower."
What?!
Nami goggled at him. Here, she had bared her soul to him, and he couldn't say anything more than "she should take a shower!?" She didn't smell that bad, did she? Suddenly bad tempered, she awkwardly hopped out of bed in a huff.
"Wait!" Sanji called to her. He grabbed a towel beside the bed and a roll of bandages, and hurried in behind her. "You can't get your bandages wet."
Nami shrieked as he barged passed the bathroom door. "I'm taking off my clothes here!"
Sanji had to fight his embarrassment, but her health was more important than his modesty right now. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." He retorted, and had the great pleasure to see her turn a bright red. Good. If the interlude in the elevator was burned into his fantasies, he wanted her to remember it as well.
"Pervert," she muttered.
"With you, always." He teased her, pleased to see she got even redder. "But I'll be the perfect gentleman, I promise. I just want you to be comfortable, and I know how much you like to be clean."
Nami blinked. She didn't think anyone noticed how much more fastidious she was than most girls, but Sanji apparently had. She looked down at the yoga pants and thin cotton T-shirt that she wore to be comfortable, and winced when she noticed that they were still splattered in blood. Ah, hell. He was right. She did want a shower. She tried to lift up the shirt on her own, but the deep gouge in her hand twinged in protest when she went to flex it.
"No peeking," she scowled.
He held up a hand, "On my honor as a gentleman."
Nami still hesitated. Seeing her inner turmoil, Sanji left the bathroom. Nami heard him rummage around in her closet, but before she could object, he came back in holding one of her silk scarves.
"Look," he said offering the scarf for her inspection. It was one of her favorites, a dense silk weave in a deep cerulean blue. He tied it around his face as a blindfold. "There. Now I can't see anything. Happy? Now please let me help you."
Nami stifled a giggle, but she was touched by the gesture. He looked so ridiculous like that, and she knew he had to feel vulnerable as well. She checked the knot was tight but not uncomfortable, and gently guided him to sit down on the toilet seat. She stood between his legs and guided his hands to her waist.
"Help me with my shirt." She instructed, and shivered when his hands skimmed up and down her sides to find the hem of her T-shirt. His knuckles brushed her bare skin as he drew it up her body, and she was surprised at how even this slightest touch of his fingers left a trail of fire on her skin.
Sanji heard the rustle of clothes as she finished shrugging it off. He might not be able to see, but he had years of fantasizing to help him picture it in his mind's eye. Down boy, he scolded his rampant imagination. Instead, he waited patiently for her next instruction.
Nami was holding her breath, waiting for him to do or say something pervy. When he didn't even crack a perverted joke, she continued. "Now my pants."
Nami didn't notice how hard Sanji swallowed at her words. She was too distracted by the feeling of his calloused hands stroking down her skin to rest at her hips.
Close your eyes and think of the All Blue, Sanji told himself sternly, and gulped even harder when he felt her guide one of his hands to hook into the waist of her pants, rasping against the soft lace of her panties. God, her skin was just so soft. He pulled down, then winced even harder when he felt her step away from him to kick off the pants.
Still, he waited.
Nami stood there, in her bra and panties, trying to think through the arousal singing through her veins. Sanji might as well have been a statue, for all the moving he was doing. She wanted to climb onto his lap and feel his big hands roam all over her. She wanted to stroke his skin and feel the tension in the muscles under her fingers. She wanted to lick him up, taste him, nicotine gum and kitchen scents and honest, hardworking sweat and all.
Hell, she wanted to run out of her building and be far, far away from him.
"I won't bite," the words were light but carried a wealth of meaning. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could see the small smile on his lips.
And the certainty came over her like a benediction.
This was Sanji. He would never hurt her. She trusted him with everything else in her life. Maybe she could trust him with this.
"I think you'll need your sight for my bra."
Sanji hardly dared to believe as he felt her step closer, felt her arms go around him, felt her fingers, fumbling but nimble, pluck at the knot holding his bandana up. He still didn't believe it when the sudden bright light blinded him for a second, and he looked up to see an angel standing between his legs.
A furiously blushing angel in a sweet white bralette, trimmed with little ruffled lace and a blue bow. Thank you, god.
He wanted to pinch himself, but he was afraid to move.
"Well?" She glared at him, turning even redder.
"Are you sure?" He asked. He had to be sure that she was certain, despite the insistent ache on his groin. They knew he was asking for permission for more than just helping her remove her bra.
Nani looked at him for long, thrumming second, then, with Sanji tracking everyone of her movements, slowly reached with her uninjured hand to unclasp the front of her bra. The scrap of white lace and blue ribbon fell away. Sanji could only watch, like a medusa's victim, as she put a hand on his shoulder and pushed a leg over his, to climb into his lap.
Oh God, she was so close. If Sanji leaned forward just a bit, he could bury his face into her amazing breasts. He was so focused on not doing that, not lapping at the little strawberry nubs that were presented on those creamy mounds, that he started when he felt a small hand nudge at his chin.
"Help me up here," She wasn't looking at him. In fact, she was very deliberately not looking at him. Her face was glowing like a traffic light.
"Help you where?" He asked stupidly.
"Here," Sanji felt her take his hand and hook it under her butt, brushing the edge of that tiny scrap of lace she called panties. Oh god, he was touching her butt. Instinctively, he supported her while she finished climbing onto his lap. Oh god, she was sitting almost naked in his lap.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Oh sweet, sweet God. Her lips were so soft. They moved across his like a whisper, gently caressing him as if she were unsure of her reception. That hesitation, that unsureness, almost undid him. He reached up (with the hand that was not clasping her butt), cupped the back of her neck, and drew her in closer so he could properly savour that taste that had been haunting him for these past few weeks.
Nami had just been about to call herself sixteen different kinds of fool. After all, she had gotten nearly naked into a guy's lap and proceeded to kiss him. She wasn't even that good a kisser - she had never initiated a kiss before. And the incident in the elevator didn't count.
Just when she was about to get off his lap and into a deep, deep hole she never intended to emerge from, she felt him draw her in a bit more closely, turn his head a little, and the universe click into place.
He devoured her. There was simply no other way to describe it. She felt something ignite as his lips seduced her in a fiery dance, coaxing her to dance with him. Those little nips at her lower lips coaxed her to nibble back, the way his tongue flicked playfully across her lips to surprise a gasp out of her, and the way his tongue took advantage of her distraction to slip past her guard to find her weak spots - all of it was driving her to distraction. She was losing herself in this kiss.
"Nami-san," A little wimper escaped her throat when he suddenly pulled away from her. She almost reached for him again, until she realized he had broken the kiss. Blushing furiously, she tried to pull away as well, but his hand, gentle as it was on her butt, wasn't letting her move. "No, don't leave. I'm not letting you go that easily." He growled at her, half playfully, half seriously, and rested his forehead against hers so all she could see were his blue eyes. God, she could drown in his eyes.
"Why did you stop kissing me, then?" She muttered, trying to break the eye contact. She was distracted by the soft petting motions he was making on the back of her neck, so that she'd almost forgotten. "Is it your fiancee?"
"What?" He jerked back, "I don't have a fiancee!"
"Your dad seemed to think otherwise, when he made that announcement in that news conference today," She muttered.
"Oh," He groaned, putting his head onto her shoulder, "God, that's going to be such a mess. I told him I didn't agree to the marriage, but did he listen? No. Pudding knows that I'm not going to go through with it, though."
So that's what's going on. Nami hadn't known who Sanji's family were - he had been estranged from them since before their college days, and had never mentioned them. It had been such a shock, watching that news conference while she had been cutting the tomatoes for a pasta, that it had started this whole mess to begin with. Still, it left the question. "Then why did you stop, Sanji? Do you not find me attractive?"
He groaned, and buried his face deeper into the crook of her shoulder, then abruptly pulled back to stare her straight in the eye. "I love you, Nami," He said simply, "I don't want you to regret this like you regret the elevator. I will wait as long as you need, but when I finally make love to you, I don't want you to run away again."
Nami bit her lip. Her brain was still fuzzy with arousal, so she focused on the one word. "When?" She raised an arched eyebrow.
"If. I meant if, not if you change your mind." He amended hastily and groaned. "I'm not making any sense. Please don't change your mind."
"I... I trust you," She said quietly. She placed her hands on his shoulders. "I'm not sure if I love you, because I'm not sure about love, but I want this." She traced her finger down Sanji's chest, brushing the button of his jeans. She felt him shudder under her fingers. She peaked at him through her lowered lashes. "Is that enough?"
"You'll tell me if you start to regret it? If you want to stop at all?" Sanji asked.
She nodded.
"Thank God," he captured her lips again in a hot, demanding kiss, fiercer than their first kiss. Nami cupped her hands around his face and gave as good as she got. She was so engrossed by that kiss, the feel of his lips coaxing hers to play while his lips licked out to send tiny shivers down her spine, that she didn't notice him shifting his arm under her. She did, however, notice when he started carrying her out of the bathroom.
"Wait," She gasped. Sanji froze. He felt like granite under her hands.
"Why?" He asked, his hands still firm on her butt.
"I-I need a shower. You said I was gross," She muttered, looking down in embarrassment.
Sanji groaned "No, I said you must feel gross. Do you feel gross?"
"No, but… I don't want to smell," she admitted.
Sanji buried his face in the crook of her neck, and Nami wanted to squirm when she felt him take a deep breath against her neck. She actually did squirm when she felt his tongue rasp against her skin.
"You smell delectable, and you taste delicious, too. Now can I please take you back to the bedroom so we're comfortable while I ravish you?" Nami shivered at the dark promise in his words.
"If you insist," She mumbled, and clung on tighter as he hoisted her up and started towards the door. She felt so safe and warm, with her ear against her chest and his arms supporting her.
She almost mewed in protest when he tumbled her onto her bed, but he almost immediately covered her with his body. He hovered over her, supporting his weight on his elbows, his knee nestled between her legs, just watching her for a minute. The intense look in his eyes made her skin tingle, and it made her nervous.
"Sanji?" She asked, "Is there something wrong?" some of her earlier insecurity seeped back into her consciousness. Should she have taken that shower after all? "Maybe I should take that shower after all," She made a move to squirm out from under him.
"No!" Sanji almost shouted, then cursed himself when she almost look scared, and dropped his forehead against hers. "You're perfect. Just the way you are."
Nami was about to respond, to say something flippant to diffuse the tension. His eyes were so intense, and she was so aware of him, of the strong, hard man between her legs. Involuntarily, she squirmed, grinding her core against his knee – anything to scratch that itch between her legs.
Sanji groaned loudly again, and swooped down to capture her mouth again. For once while Sanji kissed her, her attention was divided between his teasing lips and the fact that he was pushing his knee against her grinding hips, while his fingers crept up her thigh, dancing closer and closer to her rump.
"You taste delicious," He repeated himself, emphasising each word with a butterfly kiss down the column of her throat, "And I'm going to prove it to you."
It didn't hurt Sanji's ego that she was too dazed by his knee and his hand that she hadn't noticed that he'd trailed kisses down her torso. Her creamy breasts were so tempting, that Sanji couldn't help himself. He left off caressing her cleft, and she nearly protested, until she cried out when she felt him palm one of her breasts, and his breath hot on the other one. Her nipples were so round and pink, like little rosebuds that just needed a little coaxing to unfurl.
So he coaxed. With his fingers gently flicking one, and his tongue laving the other in rough rasps, he set an uneven rhythm that he knew would just drive her crazy. She was driving him crazy, the way she responded so ardently to him. Hell, he could feel the wetness pooling against his knee. His cock was almost unbearably hard now, but he was determined to make her scream with his mouth first, to overwrite her shame at their first encounter in the elevator.
With that thought in mind, he left off tormenting her breasts to trail kisses down the flat planes of her stomach. She mewled in protest, her hands scrabbling at his hair, but Sanji was not about to be deprived of his delicious treat. He started tracing firm circles around the little nub at the apex of her thighs, distracting her just long enough to let him go. Determinedly, he continued his inexorable progress down her body, trailing delicate little kisses as he went.
She was perfect. So responsive, so delicious, so beautiful – it was like she had been made for him to savour. So savour he would, but he wanted to her to only associate his touch with joy and pleasure.
So he asked, again, ignoring his throbbing hard cock and the ultimate temptation laid out before his eyes, slowly tracing lazy circles with his thumb. "Nami?
"Don't... stop...," she moaned, squirming desperately against his palm.
His heart dropped. His hand froze in its lazy circles around her clit, and he was about to pull away, when her eyes snapped open, and she propped herself up on her elbows to glare at him.
"I said don't stop!" She scowled at him.
A huge wave of relief crashed into Sanji as he bent his head once again to gently lave her most sensitive bud. He remembered her taste. It was as intoxicating as it was familiar, a sweet, musky taste that he was inexorably getting drunk on. He heard Nami moan, could feel her collapse back onto her bed, felt her hands tighten on his hair, pushing him to go harder. He obliged. He increased the tempo and pushed just that little bit harder.
Just as he could feel her begin to tremble, just as he felt her knees give way and collapse on his shoulders, just as he felt her whimpers grow louder, just as he knew she was about to reach her peak, he felt her fingers tug at his hair. He ignored it, thinking it was just a spasm and determined to make her orgasm. She came in a loud scream, the picture of ecstasy with her head thrown back and red hair spilling across the white sheets, her thighs clamped firmly around his face, nearly suffocating him.
Sanji only got to bask in his triumph for a minute, though. The next, she was disengaging her limbs from him, scrambling back. His heart sunk again. She was scowling at him, her arms crossed against her chest.
"This doesn't seem fair."
Nami was surprised when the most piercing sorrow and pain filled Sanji's eyes, and he clenched his fists.
"My apologies, Nami-san." He turned away from her, "I didn't realize you meant to stop."
Her heart clenched. He thought she'd meant him to stop? Stop this entirely? It hit home when she turned him towards her and saw the self loathing etched on his face. This man, she thought, both a bit exasperated and entirely besotted with him.
"No! I mean yes! But not the way you men. I mean, you think I meant. Oh, this is a mess." She flopped back onto the side of the bed.
"I'm afraid you'll have to spell it out for me, Nami," Sanji said slowly. He was staring at her.
She turned him fully towards her, while she was kneeling at the side of the bed and he was standing right beside it and they were eye level. She cupped his face gently between her hands, and said, so very tenderly to this man who thought the world of her,
"Take your pants off so I can return the favour."
Of all the reactions Nami was expecting, pure, blank shock wasn't one of them. He stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She felt heat starting to creep up her neck. Why won't he do something? Still, he stared at her with wide, disbelieving blue eyes.
That's it, she huffed to herself. Breaking that intensely uncomfortable stare, she nudged him far enough back from the edge of the bed, so she could stand in front of him. Shyly, she averted her eyes and started to unbutton those prim and proper shirts he always wore. Silk. Of course it was a silk shirt. She fumbled with how small the buttons were, and how slippery the fabric was, and how many of them there were. God, how many buttons were on this damn shirt? She felt so clumsy. Little jolts of electricity she felt every time her fingers touched his bare skin were not helping the situation.
When she finally tugged his shirt out of his pants, and undid the last button, she hesitated. Slowly, she looked up at him again. He was no longer shocked, but he was staring at her with an intensity that made her stomach quiver. She reached up, and drew the shirt off his lightly muscled frame.
Sanji finally made a move as if to touch her, but she quickly got onto her knees in front of him. His hands fell to his sides as hers reached, trembling, towards his belt. She blinked. How the heck was she supposed to get this darn thing undone? It was some deceptively simple combination of loops.
"Nami?" He asked, "you don't have to if you –"
"No!" She exclaimed, "I – I want to, but… I can't figure out your belt."
A quick huff from him that she suspected might have been a laugh was quickly stifled, and his beautiful hands moved to efficiently undo the knot at his waist with a few movements. Nami pushed his hands away as soon as his belt had been loosened. She was determined to do this on her own. She undid the top button of his jeans, felt the rasp of his zipper, and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers to get them out of her way.
She didn't give yourself time to think about it. She knew the theory, even if she'd never practiced. She'd studied the theoretical from sheer feline curiosity in the past, and didn't want to give herself a chance to overthink it. Grasping the base of his cock in her right hand, she gave the tip an experimental twirl with her tongue.
Sanji hadn't dared to move since Nami had requested that he drop his pants. He was afraid to wake up and find it was a fantasy brought on by fainting from sheer arousal. When her tongue touched his cock, however, he knew that it wasn't a fantasy. This was better than anything he could've dreamed up.
What she lacked in skill, she made up for in enthusiasm and a raw instinct for finding his most sensitive points. When she delicately lapped at the head of his cock, he squirmed. When she slowly and deliberately ran the rough side of her tongue against the sensitive underside of his shaft, exploring with her tongue, he shuddered. When she opened her mouth and sucked hard, he groaned out loud. And when she alternated between sucking on his cock and swirling her tongue around the tip, his brain exploded and his knees buckled.
He hung on to control for long enough to know that he didn't want to finish in her mouth. With extreme reluctance, he tugged gently on her hair to get her to look up, and nearly foiled his own efforts when she did look at him, her lips still wrapped around his cock. God she was so sexy.
"Stop," he croaked. She reluctantly let go of his cock with a wet pop. He pulled her back on the bed with him, settled her on his lap, mindful of her hand.
"Why'd you make me stop?" She complained. On his lap, she was eye level with him. She felt his hard erection poking between her thighs. "Did you not like what I was doing?"
"I almost like it too much," He leaned his forehead to hers."But I want to make love to you now. Can I?"
She didn't look at his eyes. She looked down at her fingers, tracing tiny patterns against his heart.
"What would you do if I chickened out now? Would you hate me?"
She hated herself for asking it. She hated that her demons chased her, that she didn't feel like she had the right to say no, and that she even doubted what Sanji would say. Intellectually, she knew that she had control over her own body. It had taken her years of therapy, after being Arlong's "woman", to reach that point. Now, sitting skin to skin with Sanji, she truly felt that power trembling just out of her reach.
"Never," he replied matter-of-factly, brushing his fingers along the side of her face. "I'd have to do something about my blue balls, sure, but I'd rather do that than have you regret a minute of this."
She felt herself grasp that power, that freedom, and it felt wonderful. She smiled, and handed him a condom. "Suit up, Sanji. Because I'm going to make love to you."
Sanji had never felt so clumsy in his life, but somehow, he managed to grab the condom, tear it open, and sheath himself in the damn thing right under her heat. Unable to resist, he copped a quick feel of her pussy, eliciting a surprised yelp and a naughty grin at her. She grabbed his cock, making him gasp as well.
It took all his control not to just thrust into her wet, welcoming heat, but the look on her face, of intense concentration and uncertainty as she guided him towards her pussy gave him the strength not to. She was taking her sweet, sweet time, but when her eyes fluttered close in bliss as he filled her, inch by tortuous inch, Sanji knew that it had been worth it.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he began to move under her, nudging her to start riding him as well. It took a while for them to find their rhythm, but when they found it, Nami actually cried out. As they moved, she leaned forward and took his mouth in a gentle kiss, leaving her injured hand on his shoulders. Sanji swept his hand between their bodies, found her nipple again and fondled it gently. He grinned into her mouth when he felt her shiver under his fingers. She broke their kiss to mock scowl at him, but when his fingers trailed down her body to the sensitive nub above where their bodies met, she stopped thinking. Waves of heat were crashing onto her with more and more intensity, until she could only brace herself against his shoulder against the mounting pleasure. Unable to help herself, Nami threw her head back and screamed when she went under.
She was glorious. Her mane of red hair was thrown back, every lithe muscle in her body taught with pleasure, and her taught nipples thrust forward in an invitation that he was aching to accept. Watching her cum on his cock was probably the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Unable to help himself, he sped up the rhythm under her, and as she came down off her high, she leaned forward and clung onto him for dear life.
Sanji was so close, so close to coming, that when Nami leaned forward again to kiss him, he was about to explode. When she danced her fingers down to his flat nipples and quickly flicked them back and forth, the molten pleasure he was experiencing explode in a starburst behind his eyes, so that he could only deeply sheath himself into her one last time and hold onto her for dear life has he rode out the ensuing tsunami of pleasure.
He collapsed backwards onto the bed, taking her with him. They lay there for a while, neither speaking, as she laid her head on his chest and he stroked her long hair with absent fingers. When she shifted a little against him to get more comfortable, though, he realized that he was still in her, rapidly deflating.
"Nami-san, I need to take care of the condom," He said to the top of her head.
Nami tensed. They were back to the "-san", were they? After all they had just done, he was back to formalities with her.
Not saying anything, she rolled off him when she felt his fingers hold down the condom and it slipped out of her. Sanji got up and padded towards the washroom to take care of business. Annoyed as she was with him, she couldn't resist watching him walk away. God, he had such a cute butt. She blushed when he looked back at her through the open doorway and grinned at her watching him.
"It's okay, Nami-san, I like it when you watch." Sanji called to her as he shut the door. She heard the toilet and the running water, and it made her realize that she really was gross after that bout of hot, sweaty sex. When Sanji came out of the bathroom, he grinned again when he caught her trying to subtly smell her armpits.
"Do you want to take that shower now?" He asked, and embarrassed, she nodded. When she moved to climb off the bed, however, she winced when she put her weight on her injured hand. She'd forgotten it was injured, he'd been so careful to avoid jostling it during sex. Sanji even relinquished the bathroom and closed it for her as he saw her beeline for the toilet.
"Since I still have this hand issue, you might as well come in and help me with it." She called through the closed door, hoping he'd take her up on it. After she finished her business, she called out "I'm done, you can come in now." Sanji swung the door open again.
She eyed his glistening chest, "I think you need one too"
"As my lady wishes," Sanji bowed, and followed her into the shower. He adjusted the dials to get the water to the perfect temperature before he let her climb in, and even then, he positioned himself to block the spray on her injured side. She climbed in and blinked in surprise. It was blissful, and perfect - hot enough this side of scalding, just the way she liked him. She did notice the wince on Sanji's face though.
"Is it too hot for you?" She asked.
"It's fine, I know you like your showers really hot," he smiled at her. He lathered up a loofa with one of the many colourful bottles that lined her shower.
"How did you know?" she demanded.
"Robin complained about the water bills when the two of you were living together," He couldn't help enjoying her embarrassment again, but she turned around to present her backside to his ministrations. He handed her the loofa after he'd scrubbed all the parts that she couldn't reach. Much to his minor chagrin, that didn't include her pussy or her chest. Instead, he chose a shampoo and began to help her with her hair.
Nami leaned back in his hands and moaned when he began to massage her scalp, hitting all the sensitive parts. "That's what you sound like when you cum," He teased. "Does it feel that good, Nami-san?"
"Why do you still use the honorific?" She blurted out, "After all that... sex, you'd think you'd just be able to call me Nami!"
"It wasn't just sex, we made love," He countered, then frowned at her, "Does it bother you?"
"Yes!" She nearly yelled at him, "It makes us sound so formal. You're standing in my shower washing my hair, for god's sake!"
"It's a sign of respect, Nami-san, and there's few people I respect more than you," his gut clenched when he realized something else, but his fingers kept gently massaging her skull. "Besides, if I start calling you Nami, now, everyone will know that we've..."
"What, fucked like bunnies? Are in a relationship?" She countered. She turned around to look at him. "Are we in a relationship? Why is that a bad thing? I thought you loved me. Is it because of Arlong?"
"No!" He hated himself for letting even the smallest trace of doubt and hurt enter her heart. He could see it in her eyes. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I just don't want to rush it after... well, after everything you've been through."
She leaned forward, "I know you're not like Arlong, Sanji. You know my favourite body wash and my favourite shampoo and how I like my showers, you pay attention to me. You treat me as if I'm precious." She looked down, "I may have some baggage left, but I'm falling in love with you - and I want to try."
Somehow he spoke through the lump in his throat. Carefully, he lifted her chin so she was looking at him again. "I want to try, too, Nami. I'll help you unpack."
FINAL. FUCKING. LY.
Geez, I'm not writing lemons for a long time. This took too long to finish! I'm going to go back to writing innocent candy corn fluff for a while. Although part of it was a break to make sure my ship wasn't going to be sunk during WCI, and I am seriously contemplating a sequel where they have to deal with the whole Pudding and Vinsmoke thing. But I wrote this mostly for the fluff and the smut. I only threw Pudding in there because I wanted to step on her foot. If I ever write an AU based on the WCI arc, I want Bellmere and Nojiko there.
Also, sexy times PSA, people - if you are after sex cuddlers, make sure you dispose of the condom toot-sweet and make sure you pee, soonish. No point in risking spills if you've gone through the trouble of protection, and peeing after sex (for women and men alike) prevents UTIs, which are painful and unnecessary. That's always irritated me about romance novels, but I guess they aren't there for the sex ed.
Let me know if you'd like me to continue with this vein, where Bellmere is dead, or you want to see Bellmere punch Judge in the face :D Also, let me know if you want to read about the pizza incident. Given that this was two years in the making, part of me can already look back and see all the stylistics weakness and plot holes and blahblah. But the other part of me is really proud of all the smut. So, we're going to leave it as it, publish it as is, and do better next time!
Also, for the folks: I was going to edit this to keep a M rating, but there's no natural break, so you're getting all the glorious smut :D