Lingering
The dense and foggy fumes of the bathtub filled so intensely the room that Sanji's head was beginning to swirl.
Maybe the water was too hot, maybe he had poured in it too much of his fancy oily shower gel – nor that he was really bothered, mind you, but sometimes heavy Eastern Myrrh was too much even for his perfume-maniac nostrils.
Maybe opening the tiny windows could have been a very good idea, for a start, but it still wasn't being effective because his dazed head kept spinning like crazy.
Well, maybe it was only his growing tiredness, actually threatening to ambush his limbs earlier than expected.
He rocketed up and down, eyes heavy-lidded, his mouth unlocked a little, like a fresh rose bud.
Maybe he wasn't feeling dizzy at all, really, it was only an impression…a deep, strong impression inside him.
Oh, so deed, so…strong inside…him…
He kept breathing hard, his lungs totally intoxicated, and looked down without stopping the hypnotic dance of his hips.
It had to be that expensive oil and all that marhmellowy foam floating everywhere, definitely.
That was the only reason why his body felt like spurs of bubbles and flames, light and hot, all mixed together in an obtrusive and inebriating whirlwind.
Sanji jerked again his body and hardly whined.
Yes…m-more…
A dark-skinned finger reached for his mouth and caught his attention, trailing the wet outline of his shining ruby lips.
Oh, the oil, yes…yes.
It was not his lips now greedily nipping and obscenely sucking on the invasive finger.
It had to be the foul air, just a mere room-temperature matter, something really insubstantial – no important at all, really…
Mhhh…just like that…
He started oscillating more intensely than before, the golden strands of his hair all sticky on his forehead.
Sparks and streams of light exploded in his view and everything was cloudy and confused – oh, fuck, OH, yes, more – just like the blatant trails of his moaning voice.
But it had nothing to do with the fact that he was not alone there, in the steamy bathroom.
It had to be because of his weakness, really, since his confusion was absolutely not related to the bronzy mass of perfect muscles crimping and burning under his clenching tights.
It was not the intense look of a certain grass-headed moron, it was not the annoyingly charming line of his squared jaw or the stubborn juiciness of his thin, dark lips.
And, above all – OH, YESSS, yes, Zoro…more! – it was not his huge cock sinking the velvety and hot shambles of his wet insides.
Yet, it looked exactly like this.
Sanji wasn't really watching the ceiling, he wasn't listening to the indecent mixture of groans and pleads, he wasn't smelling the heavy-perfumed air and only somewhere in the screwed up mess of his brains he was aware to be himself, in that very damp room, painfully hard – his cock's head leaking and throbbing – and wildly riding Zoro, trying to tame his colossal hunger.
Fuck.
It was unbearable.
Sanji heard Zoro calling him – shit, by his first name…the real one – then the swordsman clasped his butt with a pair of tanned powerful hands and held him firm and still while increasing the pace of his thrusts.
The cook started to cry and shouts uncontrollably and his rolling hips slipped in a messy and unsteady rhythm, his eyes wide shut and his flushed expression trembling and shuddering.
Sanji opened his eyes again and saw Zoro under him, shaking with pleasure and convulsing with a powerful orgasm.
YES!OH!I'm…I'm….com…
He found him as gorgeous as a godly creature and came in hard spurts as soon as Zoro's own semen filled him and brimmed outside his exhausted flesh.
Waves of pleasure filled his conscience and then, only after that, his body was ripped off by desire, from the tip of his toes to his very last hair.
He fell upon his lover's still twitching body and almost collapsed on the place.
- You dumb, crappy, ero-cook…- said Zoro's voice from somewhere, in the distance, sounding smashed but soft.
- U-uhhh?- he heard himself answering.
- You overdid it again…- panted Zoro, moving to recollect his normal self in that wild tangle of appendages, skin and not-well-defined fluids.
- Mmmmhhh…no…- said Sanji, his eyes still closed and his head intrusively pressed over Zoro's shoulder.
A small punch hit him on his head but he couldn't gather enough strength to seem annoyed.
- Yeah, you totally did it…- whispered Zoro in his hear, squeezing him tight in his arms.
- I couldn't do…otherwise…- replied Sanji, cupping Zoro's neck, staring at him for a second and then resting his lips on the swordsman's forehead, on his marred eye and on the corner of his mouth. Zoro smiled at the gentle touch and Sanji teased his lips, first gently and then hotly.
Sanji kissed his marimo in the lukewarm hotness of the bathtub and thought about how amazing those first days of sex had been. They could burn in a second like two matches rubbed together and the intensity of their skin-to-skin contact never ceased to astound him.
The cook was so absorbed in his affectionate tongue-fight that he forgot to mention to his unmindful self that MAYBE, yeah, only maybe, he was so enraptured by his love for Zoro that he almost skipped his cooking duties again.
Almost.
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Zoro knew it.
The way the cook touched him, looked at him and talked at him was definitely telltale.
They hadn't already talked about it.
There had been glances and sweet murmurs, soft pulls and various types of hugs, but not THE speech.
There had been wild sex in almost every hidden corner of the ship and there had been several degrees of nice degeneration in the lust they showed each other relentlessly.
But, to be honest, there hadn't been any words.
It was enough, though, because Zoro knew, ah, he knew it very well.
There wasn't anything stronger enough to express that churning sensation he experienced every time he had something to do with his beloved supremely-shitty-cook.
There was no skimpy expression that could resume the way the cook blushed furiously only for him, every time they hands casually touched when they were with the others or every time they found themselves alone in their little privacy.
Zoro didn't know if this was good or bad.
He couldn't tell, 'cause his heart had never belonged to someone so strongly as much as his body.
He had his promise, off course, his dream, his swords and his obstinacy.
But now he had the cook too and this – he was sure – was going to make the difference.
Not to mention, in addition, that is body had finally ceased to itch and feel tense: his troubling aching for something was totally gone and his concentration was back to his normal state.
The cook would work for him, he had a strong, good sensation about it.
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Nami and Robin had spent almost a week trying to confirm their hypothesis by studying their changes in habits. They were sure, now, because Sanji didn't even bother to spoil them with juicy cocktails at every hour of the day and because, together with Chopper, they had collected plenty of acoustic proofs. More than scientific.
Franky had promised himself to silently guard the crow's nest every time he knew the place was – how to say it? – occupied. He had smirked a lot to Zoro lately, because love had to be cherished and treasured, no matter what. The swordsman obviously feigned not to have noticed him.
Usopp was shamefully oblivious to the whole circumstance, and it took him maybe months to see the truth…well, actually, it took months for him to bump into the so-called truth, in the form of the two men tenderly kissing in the galley. He had then felt awkward around them for a while, but eventually he had tagged along with Franky's enthusiasm and Brooke almost open fandom.
The Mugiwara's young captain, instead, had showed from the beginning his random support in wide grins and gleeful games on the deck, involving (obviously) all the nine of them. That was because their captain was strange in a lot of different ways but he never failed to get straight to the point when something important was holding together two people. He saw very clearly how little, how treasured and kind was the secret his first mate and his cook were clumsily failing to keep from everyone.
And, indeed, there was something special in Sanji's empty bed, by then not used for entire weeks, and there was something special in the tone of Zoro's voice, inviting all his crewmates to fucking disappear because he was the only one in charge of kitchen duties for that evening. Even if, obviously, he had been doing it for days.
Caring was the embrace in which the two of them kept themselves in Zoro's crow's nest every night, and astonishing was the heat their bodies could release if connected together, especially if it was slow, patient love-making, full of some sort of never-ending want.
Even in that moment, therefore, while Sanji was lazily smoking outside his beloved kitchen after his dinner duties, Zoro came closer, to share with him the night view and the infinite possibilities of the day still stifled by the nocturnal shadows.
The swordsman and the cook, wider shoulders closer to slimmer ones, the hand of the first resting on the three helms of his swords, the one of the second tucking in his lips the burning cigarette.
A puff of smoke, the exchange of some eloquent looks, glimpses of smiles and little gestures of acknowledgement.
For several endless seconds they stood there, silent and pleased.
- A beli for your thoughts…- murmured Zoro, looking indolently at his side.
- Well, shitty-marimo, you'll need far more than a beli to know what I'm thinking about…-
Zoro smirked and stretched out his muscular arm, clutching Sanji's narrow waist in a casual and familiar way.
He got close to him, to the fragile shell of his ear, and purred:
- Bet I can force you to confess, curlycue…-
Sanji didn't reply, his skin at once covered in goose bumps; he turned and grasped Zoro firmly in a tight embrace.
- You hopeless degenerated moss-ball head…you do have only THAT nail stuck in your head, don't you?-
Zoro cackled and brushed his nose on Snaji's neck.
- Look who's talking…weren't you the one screaming last night?-
Sanji faked a punch on Zoro's stomach.
- Fufufufufufufu…my, my, Ero-cook, don't struggle…-
Sanji offered Zoro his cheek, finished his cigarette and threw the stub in the silent and blurred ocean. Then he turned back and hugged Zoro again.
Were they going to be all right?
Were they going to…stay…like that forever?
What about the dangers, the unknown obstacles, their different paths?
Sanji didn't want to spoil that moment and kept his mouth tight shut.
Zoro wasn't exactly the fair, fragile lady he had always imagined for him to be.
But one thing he knew: Zoro'd have always caught him in case of faltering, no doubts about it.
He was his nakama, his swordsman, his rival, his lover, and he was not going to miss anything that came up together with this.
Sanji turned back to Zoro, held him tighter and kissed him playfully.
- By the way – he added, now smiling openly – I was thinking about the sea.-
- Liar…- murmured Zoro, catching Sanji's amused face and reading it easily.
- You, dull green tiger…- laughed the cook.
- Yeah, whatever, blondie…-
And without hesitating anymore, their fingers intertwined and they left for the crow's nest, pleasantly lingering onto each other with warm looks and sharp words.
By then, the strong profile of Sunny's hull streamed deeply the hot, deep greenish-obscure waters of the ocean.
The dark-haired boy (usually dancing on the happy Lion-head) was snoring loudly inside the man's quarter and so was his crazy group of fouls – his crew of devoted nakamas.
Amongst them there were dreamers, there were crazy lads with their even craziest stories; there were jumps of happiness and giggles, dark pasts and sad memories, all kept together by the strong pull of life and the exciting thrilling of danger.
While the night unwrapped his soft grey clouds on the yellowish, pale full moon, the lazy black waves outside kept rolling the ship onward, towards new exciting adventures.
*Fin
YUKI'S CORNER
Well, here we are, that was pretty much everything I felt to write about it.
As I said, no special things or occasions, just the old style ZoSan, a little too saccharine for my dear-bitter-tooth, but I guess the story went this way by itself…or at least I guess so.
I hope you enjoyed my little world and I hope you'll stop by it again.
Obviously I do not own OP and this is only for fun (though I'd really like to see our two friends together for real…Meh…I guess I'm just beating a dead horse here!).
I think I'm writing again about this pairing very soon.
Stay tuned
Yuki