He was alone when Sanji lit his highly coveted cigarette.
The room was dark and the ship rocked with the waves almost in tune with his breath. Sanji thought about it as a relaxing situation. The glim of burning tobacco was the only thing that was rudimentarily bright within the night's fine wrap of deeply black gloom.
The way he could feel his lungs expand at the far reaching inhale drove calm into his whole system. The crave for his desire got quenched successfully and allowed him to slowly get down to his senses. Memories of the situation only moments before struck him and the point of view changed drastically as he now had the chance to give it a clear thought.
The blond rolled over to look for something to dab the ashes onto, but grunted at the piercing pain coming from his ribs. He definitely should not move too much, the injuries were still rather fresh and that the bones were still broken from the fight at the Baratie had never left his awareness. To have stopped before had been a wiser decision than he liked to admit, especially because it had been that piece of shit Marimo head who had had insisted on stopping. No good came from this man, so why would he be insightful enough to stop on his own?
Sanji rolled back on his stomach and leaned up slowly. He wanted to draw another inhale from the cigarette, but it would cause the ashes to fall on the blanket. With a sigh he let his feet fall down from the matrass and naked feet touched the wooden floor. The left one touched something soft. Unbearable throbbing fogged his mind for a moment before it faded away again after mere seconds. The wound on his head was pretty restricting as well. Thinking straight turned out to be a difficult thing with a bruise that felt as bad as a shattered bone. Sanji was not even sure if this skull was fully intact, he had hit the ship in a really inconvenient position, so much was clear.
When his vision had cleared up again he could make out the used bandages on the floor. They would throw them away anyway, so he would just use them for now. His foot was used to shove them closer and with an effortless reach Sanji could grab them and put them on the tiny shelf beside him. Time to dab off the excessive ashes. When he had gotten comfortable again Sanji brought it up to his lips and took another deep breath of it. His ribs throbbed every time he expanded his chest but that was something he could bear with. It was better than to give up his most favourite habit.
When his eyes drifted from the roof towards the scuttle, he could easily make out Zoro's shadow. That bastard. He had taken the bottle after all. Ah, it would be nice to have him in here again. Having company in a condition like this was not so bad, especially after they had gotten closer so quickly. Things had developed within only a few days. How long exactly? Sanji had lost track of it but time was irrelevant anyway. As long as they had a good time, enough food and sense of direction, what did it matter how many days passed? All of them were enjoying life to their fullest and none of them would want it any other way.
Sanji watched the silhouette outside, as the shadow put the bottle to his lips and drank. What a horrible thing to do. How could Zoro even sense things clearly during fights so far? Wasn't alcohol reducing brain cells? He'd have to remember that, next time that asshole would get lost, Sanji would definitely throw that at that green head of his.
Another sigh. Zoro and having a sense for the atmosphere? Probably not… Otherwise that guy would know that Sanji felt lonely inside the cabin. Sanji reached for his pack of cigarettes again. He'd need another one. If the night would go on like this it would definitely be a long night. Right when it was lit he could hear the door open and Zoro went back in. Bottle in one hand, oil lantern in the other. The light of fire flattered the contours. The frame before him seemed to melt together with the darkness surrounding him, but the places that were actually enlightened were oh so clearly muscular and well developed. A delicious dish for his eyes. Sanji could imagine the taste by looking at him alone.
"Oi", he greeted him calmly. "You're back rather quickly. Did you forget something?"
The newly entered man put the lamp onto its hook and sat down beneath it. The fire's brightness reached them moderately, but the colours were all distorted by the reddish-orange hue it gave. The constant flickering engulfed the atmosphere in a mysterious manner.
When there was no answer Sanji just inhaled another time and then put his arm down to get rid of the burnt excess again. His breath was halted so he could enjoy the effect a little longer and his damaged body rebelled and expressed it by dizziness.
When Sanji exhaled again, he felt like floating. His arm lowered and he stubbed out the only halfway burned tobacco stick onto the damp bandages. What a good feeling. Once in a while he could be reckless with himself too. It did not matter if Zoro saw it. Zoro understood. Sanji knew so much about him.
The blond felt his cold hand being taken and the eyes he hadn't realised he had closed, opened up again to look at him lazily. No words were spoken but the eye contact they had was intense enough to fill whole pages of a book.
Sanji was the first to blink. He was also the first to smirk and to look away. Ridiculous. Of course Zoro would not say a word, but the way he disapproved was so obvious, it almost physical. This pressure coming from these eyes above him, this expectation that strained and tensed Sanji's patience. His second hand reached to cover his own eyes so he would not accidentally reciprocate that look again.
"It hurts… so damn much…"
The hand enveloping his own got softer and he could feel Zoro's thumb stroke his hand. There it was again, that rough feeling of skin meeting skin that made him feel excited. Getting going about something so simple, it was humiliating how well it worked. But his physical needs grew and Zoro was absolutely convenient.
While his eyes were still covered, breath suddenly appeared before his lips. Sanji could smell the stinging stench of rum that had been stored away for the purpose of cooking only. It had been a good brand, he could smell the flavour and the exquisite traits of it even in Zoro's breath. The cook licked his lips unconsciously. He was expecting a kiss. Instead his whole body jerked up in surprise when the breath suddenly hit his ear and shot goose bumps along with nerve wrecking excitement through his veins. The pain caused by the tension intensified the feeling of shock and left the blond breathless for a moment.
Zoro spoke. Directly into his ear. The deep voice was something entirely else when it was used so careful, when it sounded almost erotic, ringing in his head and removing complete awareness of any other sounds in existence. "Baka" was the first word that reached his brain after that shock of quiet breath. Then he smirked. "It means that you're alive."
With his body still alerted like that it was hard to respond to such a philosophical statement. Booze might damage brain cells, but maybe it killed off the right ones when Zoro could become such a sensitive man when having a raised level of alcohol in his blood.
No doubt that it had been done on purpose, but neither of them commented on it. It was enough that both knew.
Sanji put his hand into Zoro's nape and just held onto it. No reason whatsoever. They were getting used to it after all – going with the flow that is. A quiet gasping whimper got coaxed out of Sanji's tightened neck when a tongue touched the shell of his ear and it was as disgusting as it was exhilarating! To feel this disgusting wetness, to hear these lewd sounds! But it set his body on fire and it felt so good! Only half aware of the rest around him he could feel a flat palm being put on his hip. The urge grew, it made him shiver! Just one move would be enough to brush his longing parts into this warm hand! But his pride would not allow him to give in so easily. The situation was already developing horribly enough as he could feel his nipples stiffen by such simple tasks done to him and to have his voice change so drastically by mere talk! Embarrassment seemed to swallow him up and he wished the ground would open up beneath him and let him disappear just so he would not have to face this humiliating loss of control.
The cook grit his teeth so he would not let out another strange sound but felt like choking the palm actually brushed only the side of his private parts. His body convulsed at the feather light touch and stinging pain spread within his chest almost like a curse. It was embedded in these thrilling feelings neatly and merged into something that was by far unpleasant.
When his lips parted slightly he caught himself huffing short gasps of air and only then he realised just how fast his heart was beating. Why did Zoro know so well how to handle him? It was absurd to even think that the Marimo could have collected any experience somewhere before. That could not be the case, there was no way. There was absolutely no way. No way at all. He continued to repeat these words in his head as to distract himself, but another tremor threw him off track when the same hot hand that had just lightly grazed him before had its fingers dipped beneath the underwear's elastic band. Half an inch or so, not enough to be invasive yet, still sufficient as to make a point that the line was about to get crossed.
Sanji let it happen. He just lay before him, body mostly uncovered, from the waist up exposed to air and sight that it made it difficult for Zoro to not go way too fast.
For Zoro, listening to Sanji's body was important. He had a hard time sensing the needs coming from it. Interpreting it right when feeling way too easy with everything thanks to the strong alcohol was even more difficult and a task that was best not done sloppily.
His fingers pressed down to the skin beneath the waistband, they dipped into the junction between the hips and legs. Zoro could feel the hipbone frame Sanji's shape. He twisted his hand slightly and let the nail of his thumb graze along the thin skin covering the bone and another twitch of the igneous flesh told him that it had been a good decision. The face of the cook seemed somewhat suffering, but not in a way that rejected what they did. Should he do something Sanji would not like, the blond would definitely fight. Sanji was not in such a bad shape as to not complain. But not such complain ever came. Instead the muscles beneath his palms seemed to be extraordinarily willing to slacken off.
Without a sound Zoro let his tongue flick out to wet his lips. His expression had been a poker face all the time. He was focused on feeling what the body told him. All responses were so good. Sanji was so good. Willing for pleasure, open for adventure, accepting unbound exploration.
Honestly, Zoro had no idea what to make of it, but he liked it. His position was superior and he got to know another human in a way he had never before. Through his hands he could feel vibes coming from the hot skin, no, rather coming from deep within. As if the whole body was communicating with him through actions only. And Zoro was willing to listen.
Meanwhile Sanji had become a trembling mess. Sweat caused his skin to feel cool on the upper side but also to feel drenched on the back where it was connected to the soft sheets. His eyes were still closed and he could only concentrate on the gradually ensuing actions that were slowly taking away all of his common sense.
An inhaled gasp for air expressed the shock he felt when once more voice penetrated his ear. Dark and tender. Dripping with perverse confidence. Sanji hated it. He detested it! A simple hum had made his body jump and his hands to cramp and claw into the sheets as if he'd have to hold onto something for dear life!
His breath was ragged and his mind long fading, still not blank but that was yet an inevitable event.
His chest was raising and falling quickly and words were a lost attempt to form for all that left him were quiet voiced gasps escaping with air from his lungs. It hurt. It hurt so good it was driving him crazy! It hurt so horribly that it was confusing him to the brink of his sanity. How such feelings could match so sweetly, yet so tremendously. It was far worse than a dream. Only reality could mix occurrences in such a mind blowing way. Only reality could be this cruel as to reach limits of a human to make him want to faint just to escape sensations that were new and thrilling and tingling and to be felt from head to toe without exception.
His hips already moved involuntarily and the feeling of the rough hand trying to force him down was even more intoxicating. Zoro felt a rush of arrogance. Sanji was at his mercy.
Not that he would ever abuse it, but the fact that he icould/i was sufficient to get high about.
Hardly did he use more force as the hips had to still under the pressure of Zoro's weight being put upon the hipbone. The fight of the blond to receive friction could still be felt through the strength the swordsman had to use, but it was alright. It was part of the game they played. A game that had gained excitatory momentum.
Zoro put his second palm that until now had only supported his weight on the matrass onto Sanji's ribcage – the side that had not as many broken ribs as the other. He did not use any pressure. But the gentle writhing of the probably already senseless cook could easily be felt. The way the breath was short, the bones moving with every try to push up, the ribcage expanding and deflating. Even without putting pressure on it, Zoro could feel it all. He could see it all. The wet sheen in the fire's light, the stiff and erect nipples throwing shadows onto the chest, every muscle showing from the tension built within the cook's body.
It was an honest conversation they had. No lies were told, no truth was hidden. Sanji had handed himself completely over right now. And Zoro accepted it. He honoured it like a sacred sacrifice.
The man leaned in to kiss Sanji's throat. The blond had his head rolled back and neck thereby fully exposed so gaining access was easy. He could feel stubble scratching his lips when he leapt onto thin skin there to suck some of it into his mouth to bite it in a teasing way.
Finally another voiced sounds were unleashed and Sanji's toes curled. The situation started to take its toll on Sanji's body. He began to suffer from the short breathing and the pain slowly began to take over pleasure. The way the tension changed was what disclosed these very facts to the swordsman as he tried to get more secrets out. This would have to end soon or it would once more do more harm than good.
Zoro let go of the skin and shifted just a little bit to reach Sanji's mouth. A gentle touch from lips to lips was Zoro's way of showing gratitude that Sanji had endured this for so long. The hand on his hip dipped deeper and Zoro was strangely surprised by the sweat that had collected there by now. It felt unsettling when he avoided the hardness stretching and straining the underwear's fabric only to gave the enormously tightened balls a gentle touch with his fingertips. It hardly even resembled a stroke when at the same time his lips had moved to kiss the temple of the blond and then to the back of the same blond's ear to give it an equally tender kiss there.
Sanji inhaled noisily and felt his whole body tense. Time had stopped when his eyes ripped open. As if his heart had stopped beating and the world was about to fall away.
That very moment Sanji was sure that he was about to die from all what had gotten pent up.
Then the relieving voice.
"Come."
One word.
Quiet.
Gentle.
Unleashing.
Another heartbeat lifted the curse of stopped time and his conscience faded into white.
