A LITTLE BIT MORE

Chapter 3

The attack happened just before dawn broke over the East Blue horizon. It was an unprecedented moment of panic for everyone below deck, as Ussop burst in from his watch, screaming the dreadful word "Marines" at the top of his lungs. For the first time they were roused from sleep and thrust into a critical situation with barely a moment to gather their bearings. Sanji was light-headed from the chaos; his limbs felt stiff. He was silently grateful that it was only the Marines, and not another megalomaniac pirate with an entire fleet under his command.

Apparently there had been no dispatch, but simply a patrol ship passing in the night. By the time the crew reached the deck of the Going Merry, Marines were already boarding them.

Luffy ordered Ussop to the cannon, and adopted his most determined stance. Their attackers would have been well to know that Luffy could abide my many things, but being roused from sleep was not one of them. With a silent nod of communication to Sanji, they set to work on the uninvited guests. Amidst the expected  carnage and cacophony of battle, Sanji felt the misty morning air exhilarate him, the soon-victorious cries of the crew music to his ears. It was a small Marine vessel, but it seemed as if a full corps was pouring out, eager as they usually were for justice and Luffy's head.

Two shots from their cannon had already damaged the Marine ship irreparably, and as it began to sink Sanji finally started to realize how exhausting the fight was becoming. His feet felt like lead weights on his legs after a few more minutes, and it still seemed that the enemy was outnumbering them twenty to one.

When he paused for a moment, just to catch his breath, it turned out that the exhaustion had numbed his sense of danger, as well. He had only let his guard down for a flash, and in that half-second he felt a rush of something warm spray against his back, and heard the disturbing, jagged slashing sound of steel through human flesh. He turned around swiftly and Zoro rushed past him, leaving a dead body in his wake. "Be more careful," he growled ferociously at Sanji as he passed, "you almost got killed."

Trying with all his might not to be fazed by that particular brush with death, he dutifully continued the fight, pushing his body harder until he found his stamina being tested. It almost frightened him; his stamina had never been an issue.

You're barely awake, you don't have an ounce of food in you, and there was absolutely no time to prepare. He kept assuring himself, and started counting off the men in uniform as he fought them, defeated them, and moved on to the next.

The morning's first light was casting long, black shadows across the deck when he lost count.

An hour. It had only been an hour. The Going Merry had managed to steer clear of the Marine boat as it sank, and eventually dispatched with every last would-be attacker. Everything had seemed like a blur – the only thing Sanji remembered by the time he slumped exhausted against the railing was the sound of Zoro's sword behind him, his words as he passed.

He hadn't even had the time to look at his eyes then, but somehow he wished he had. He had wanted to match the tone with an expression – he wanted to lay to rest his silly assumption that Zoro had been worried about him in a way that transcended the norm.

With a growling moan of discomfort, he forced himself toward the galley, raising his voice to yell to the others, "We all need food. I'll get to work."

There were no objections to a meal, but no one was telling him to stop, no, wait, get cleaned up first, either. He supposed that everyone was concerned with only themselves at that moment, and he couldn't blame them. The blood had dried in his hair and all over the back of his shirt, and the feeling was making him nauseous. Once safely inside the galley he discarded the shirt, tossed it onto the nearest chair, and lit up a very well-deserved cigarette.

A moment of contemplation was in order before he decided on that morning's breakfast. Everyone would be starving, that was no question. And no one would want to wait very long. He ran over a few options in his mind, but every time he tried to focus his attention, his thoughts kept reversing, scrambling, doubling back to his one memory from the battle.

Zoro's words. "You almost got killed." Angry. Purposeful. Said and gone in the flash of a second.

In the short time the crew had been together, saving each others' lives had become a common occurrence. So he could hardly meditate on the thrill that Zoro had killed for his sake. With only five people, you had to watch each others' backs, or....

Sanji didn't want to even consider the alternative. It simply wasn't an issue to the crew of the Going Merry.

He walked past the table and puffed thoughtfully. With a tiny smirk he reached down and fingered the burnt spot on the wood where Zoro had crushed his cigarette only a week ago. What had happened that day, the words that had been exchanged, the tension that had almost come to blows...it still hurt him deep down. It had all led to something worthwhile, of course, but Sanji was still nervous about things the way they were. Time had stood still since that day, since their long, last kiss against the galley door.

Suddenly, as he exhaled a cloud of smoke in a hurried blow, it dawned on him.

That voice, today, it was the same as when...

He remembered so clearly, still. Being pinned to the table, having no clue what to do, only hearing Zoro as he growled at him...

"I'm not playing games with you anymore."

The rush of clarity came over him, the possibility of understanding was in his grasp. But it was extremely short lived.

The door closed with a tiny squeal of its hinges, and Sanji turned around with a start.

"Zoro." He said, almost smiling, but a little too tired to pull it off.

Zoro, blood-stained and sweat-soaked, dark fabric tilted slightly askew over his eyebrows. His gaze traveled up Sanji's body appraisingly, his mouth twitching very subtly into a pleasant smirk. "Well." He said simply, suggestion simply dripping from his tone, his eyes fixed on Sanji's bare chest.

"I had to lose the shirt. It's practically ruined from all the blood," he paused, "thank you, by the way." It was difficult to keep his composure when the look on Zoro's face read of something he'd never seen in the swordsman before. He was surprised to feel uncomfortable because of it, at the same time that a fire lit immediately inside.

"Eh," Zoro brushed off the graciousness easily, "had to." He strode to the table and took one chair in his hands, saying no more as he turned back to the door and carried it with him.

Sanji could only watch for a few seconds before his brow knitted in confusion and he scoffed, "What are you doing?"

With a glance over his shoulder, Zoro lifted one eyebrow impishly. Sanji suddenly noticed he was sucking, rather nervously, on a spent cigarette. As he tossed it carelessly into the sink, Zoro lodged the chair securely beneath the doorknob and against the frame, producing his closest approximation of a makeshift lock.

He clapped his hands together in accomplishment and was already on his way back to the table. "I don't have the patience to take any more precautions than that," he nodded over his shoulder, indicating the small, round window in the door, "let 'em look if they want to that badly."

Sanji found it all of the sudden very difficult to swallow.

"Over here." He beckoned Sanji with one finger, his tone testy and his stance commanding.

There was absolutely no reason to resist. Sanji felt the exhaustion fade away immediately, replaced with the simple, focused energy of lust. He made his way over quickly, and within a few feet Zoro grabbed him. His arms circled Sanji easily, forcing their bodies together. He kissed him like a whore. Sanji found himself absolutely powerless, limp like a rag-doll, melting and boneless against Zoro's powerful body.

With Zoro's tongue still plundering his mouth with urgency that made him blush, Sanji reacted to everything with the force of a wild animal. He suddenly felt Zoro's hands grasp him from behind, squeezing his buttocks tightly with a strength he had never imagined. With hardly a choice, he drew up onto the tips of his toes, gasping for air with every moment that Zoro allowed him, spinning into recklessness as those hands kept kneading his softest flesh hungrily, so fiercely that he feared they would tear into the fabric.

 "Why--?" Sanji could barely gasp before Zoro lifted him onto the table, dropped him hard, and leaned over him with another crushing kiss.

Zoro smiled around Sanji's mouth, and kept that impish twinkle in his eyes. "Because I'm so hard right now, I can hardly breathe."

Though his ears burned in the wake of Zoro's voice, Sanji found the composure to reply, "—the battle?"

Zoro nodded impatiently, and pushed Sanji back. Shocked by the short fall, Sanji gasped for breath, his blonde hair fanning around his head as he found himself in a familiar position, under much more welcome circumstances. Zoro's rough, forceful lips worked down his neck, remembering the spots that had caused such a stir last week. Sanji showed his appreciation with a little whimper as he scratched his fingers over the back of Zoro's head.

I don't know what I'm going to do if he goes any farther...Sanji bit him bottom lip and worried, already, I want to scream...I want to let all this out, this tension he's just building and building inside of me...

He was caught completely off-guard as Zoro's mouth clamped over one of his nipples, his teeth biting hard on contact. His back arched and his hands grabbed at the cloth knotted at the base of Zoro's neck. As he opened his mouth to let out a long-awaited sob of pleasure, he felt a palm flatten over his lips before he could register any significant volume. Sanji's eyes flew open.

"Jeez, you're annoying," Zoro shook his head and straightened up a bit, though he still refused to remove his hand from Sanji's mouth. Sanji knitted his brow in indignation. As if I'm going to scream now, you asshole... With a few quick motions behind his neck, he unfurled the tiny scarf from his head. He dangled the strip of fabric over Sanji's face, and lifted one eyebrow. "Will you needing this?" He asked firmly.

Though he would have been ashamed to admit such a thing verbally, Sanji somehow found the modesty to nod beneath Zoro's hand.

The thing smelled like Zoro, and forced the scent directly into Sanji's mind as it slid between his teeth and around his head. He bit hard on it, testing its durability as Zoro knotted it tightly, painfully. Sanji exclaimed, but was muffled by the gag. He shot another hateful glare at the man standing over him.

"Sorry," Zoro shrugged, smiled, and leaned over Sanji's face. He kissed his cheek and the curl of one eyebrow, and whispered silkily, "but I get off on power."

Sanji's stomach tied an immediate knot, but he was secretly grateful for that knowledge. This was definitely what he had always been missing. He knew that, despite his constant one-upmanship, rivalry, and general schoolyard teasing with Roronoa Zoro, this was something he could do. He wanted to give him that power, and he wanted to be used to that end. His heart had never ached with anxiety this way, not with the timid maidens and soft-skinned socialites who expected him to do all the work, every time. Zoro was tearing his pants off, with hands that could just as easily have killed him as aroused him, and the rush of helplessness was like nothing he had ever felt before.

In what seemed like one motion, he found himself stripped, his pants forced down around his ankles as Zoro's tongue grazed the sensitive, slightly ticklish vicinity of his navel.

"Hey," Zoro finally let up, allowing Sanji a moment to breathe, "we don't have time for everything I want to do to you, not right now," he lifted a hand and ran it over Sanji's face, wiping off the thin patina of wetness left by his watering eyes, "but trust me, I will get the chance."

His other hand squeezed Sanji's erection, adding an exclamation point to his vow. Sanji's fingernails nearly drew splinters from the table when they dug in at this. He was aching for release but yearning, begging on the inside, for the experience to never end. With every movement of Zoro's hand his tongue collided with the gag in his mouth, strangled little cries escaping, only shadows of what they might have been.

Their eyes met for a moment; only a moment, but long enough. Sanji knew the surrender, the complete submission, was sparkling with his tears of exertion. There was no way Zoro could have missed it, there was no way it couldn't have pushed him forward. What he felt in response was a firm hand on his hip, another on his shoulder, rolling him roughly onto his stomach and meeting with very little resistance. 

Horror was lurking somewhere in Sanji's mind, the inescapable fear of the unknown. But the excitement seemed to be overpowering everything. He shuddered and moaned inside his throat as Zoro's hands ran over the shape of his body from behind. Those touches were amazing, so simple and so different. Sanji wanted Zoro's hands on him for hours at a time, massaging away the soreness in his muscles and delighting him with every little brush of his long, powerful fingers. "Damn it," he heard Zoro mutter, as if reading his mind, "no time."

His earrings were miniature wind chimes in Sanji's ear as he leaned over him again, breathing slowly and purposefully against his cheek. Sanji's eyes fluttered to a close and he heard Zoro whisper, "Tell me you want me to."

Sanji barely hesitated, and was able to speak softly beneath the gag's resistance. "Fuck me," he managed in a tiny voice, "please." He could already feel the solid heat of Zoro's erection through his pants as he curved against him from behind.

"Thank you," Zoro breathed in a grateful, relieved little way, and kissed Sanji's cheek playfully before he drew back. Sanji blinked and tried desperately to slow his breathing. But already he felt Zoro's fingers pressing inside of him, bothering with nothing but the appointed task. Wet fingers, cool and steady, obviously eager but hardly as rough as Sanji had expected. His breath only hastened, deepened, every gasp for air a change in the pitch of an eternal moan.

A fragrance that was all-too familiar was suddenly quite pungent in the air, and Sanji drew his mind out of its fear, its excitement. He had to identify it. Zoro's fingers were so slick, delving ever-more into his body, primed with—

"Olive oil, if you're wondering. Closest thing I could find." Zoro assuaged his curiosity with a quick explanation, jabbing suddenly deeper. Sanji yelped and squeezed his eyes shut.

Damn, that....that felt good. He allowed himself to accept it, humiliated as he truly was. His cheeks were blushing, and his eyes were not simply watering any more. A tear of fatigue and humility rolled down to the tip of his nose as he struggled for breath. This isn't how I wanted it to be...not at first.

He wanted Zoro's voice again; he wanted just a little bit of comfort and reassurance. But all he heard were the gentle sounds of their own bodies, the overwhelming background noise of his hoarse, trembling reactions. Zoro was making no efforts to be gentle as he plunged all four fingers of one hand into Sanji's body. Below him, Sanji felt himself experiencing what he had always thought to be only half-true. Pain and pleasure...completely indistinguishable, one from the other. But I'm feeling both. I just can't focus on one...I can't...

The pressure came to an abrupt halt, and Sanji gulped down a deep breath instinctively. For a moment he felt empty, abandoned....actually longing for more. He clenched his face into a tight grimace and let the desire spring to the forefront of his mind, forcing himself into the same carnal state as his partner.

Fuck me... he could only think, wishing again that he had the power to scream it, beg for it as loud as his voice would allow. He tried to forget the image of himself, bent over in such a position, practically violated, absolutely obedient. He tried to forget his overwhelming desire to see Zoro, to hear him, and not just to feel him as the experience went on. Just do it. Bastard.

The doubts, the sudden fears and insecurities, he would leave for another time. In the flash of a few seconds' time he managed to rile himself, knowing and convinced that he wanted nothing more than Zoro inside of him, ravaging him, fucking him. No romance, no pleasantries. Not right now. The wish went against everything he had thought before, but somehow it seemed right. This was the difference. This might have been what he was searching for. Everything I never knew I always wanted.

With a  short, uncharacteristically fetching moan, Zoro drove into him. For a moment, neither made a sound, and hardly a motion. Sanji felt himself go dizzy, mindless, needing air but not having the presence of mind to draw even a breath. It hurt like hell, and for that moment he absolutely hated Zoro for taking him in such a fashion.

The first reaction he made was a tiny gasp as he fell back into reality, wondering if Zoro was going to keep fucking him with no regard for his comfort whatsoever. He let the thought sink in, as the massive thing inside of him started to move intently, precisely, with a rhythm that wasted no time.

He felt Zoro straighten up behind him, and listened to his deep, faint reactions with each powerful thrust. All of Sanji's concentration after that was centered on enjoying it, trying not to wish that Zoro's hand would leave the small of his back and relieve some of the unbearable tension from his trembling, dripping cock. His breath was the only sound he made; his body rocking in hard, violent pulses against the table as a backdrop. The wood struggling against its own joints, producing muted whines under the strain. And behind that, all Sanji could hear was still the sound of Zoro's breath, mouth open so that every thrust drew a little awestruck grunt.

Within a few moments, the swordsman was moving slower, and Sanji heard him close his mouth and begin to breath through his nose, labored and determined, taking long, full strokes in and out of his body. When Sanji was certain that it would be over within the span of a minute, certain that he would be left unfulfilled and disenchanted, his face suddenly contorted into a wince of shock, and a warm shock electrified his body from the base of his spine, from the spot where Zoro's cock was now pounding him in hard, thorough thrusts.

A choked scream came out, as loud as he could manage, and he dug his teeth firmly into the fabric, growling in his throat. He heard Zoro chuckle, and gasp between threshold breaths. "You didn't honestly think I would've forgotten you, did you? You've been acting like a corpse down there."

With another perfect poke at his most sensitive bit, Zoro brought his palm down hard and ruthless on Sanji's ass. The blonde head beneath him jerked up roughly, and Sanji yelped like a whipped dog. He could imagine the look on Zoro's face, the severely dominant and mischievous grin he showed only at his most sadistic. "That's better." He mumbled through his teeth.

Sanji's knees were hardly a support anymore—his weight concentrated beneath his ribcage, where he continued to be thrust back and forth into the table. Zoro's hands were exploring his softer flesh, his thighs and ass but never beneath that. His touches were so harsh, so animalistic, that Sanji knew the other man's orgasm was approaching. Despite every misgiving he had conjured, despite every doubt about his new lover's consideration, Sanji knew he didn't want it to be over so quickly.

He wanted to throw his legs around Zoro's waist and get fucked on top of the counter. He wanted to straighten his back, with Zoro beneath him, and ride him to one thrashing climax after another. The thoughts kept flashing behind his eyes, with every rush of pleasure and every breathtaking thrust. He wanted to get down on his knees and let Zoro come all over his face.

What the hell is happening to me?! He thought, clenching his teeth tightly, grinding them against the gag, his throat swelling and hurting from the noises he needed so desperately to make. I'm not like that! I have more self-respect than that, I can't let lust simply...take over....

Zoro's fingers were suddenly little feathers against his cock. Above and behind him, Zoro gasped, "Sanji."

His body reacted as it only could. The immediate touch, the mounted tension, the thoughts in his head, all combining to send him over the edge. As Sanji felt himself spill all over Zoro's finally proffered hand, he gulped back his scream and simply rode the wave of tension as it released, pulsed, and released again. Every muscle in his body screamed from struggle, fatigue, and inconceivable delight.

Zoro seemed more than happy with the result of his actions, and released immediately into Sanji, moaning his name again. The feeling was heavy and different, something Sanji could never have prepared for. His legs continued to tremble as Zoro let out a satisfied sigh and fell over his back.

His chest was slick with sweat and painfully hot, but Sanji wouldn't have asked him to move. Not when Zoro rubbed his face against the back of his neck, electrifying the ends of his wispy hair with little gusts of breath. And certainly not a few minutes later, when, withdrawn and recovering, Zoro whispered lazily, "Next time, we'll do this your way."

Heart still throbbing, muscles only beginning to regain their composure, Sanji stared ahead at the wall, between the spots where Zoro and Nami usually sat during meals. Finally he sucked in a breath as deeply as he could, and exhaled heavily. It was a comfortable breath, a fulfilled breath. Silently he thanked Zoro, and made a mental list of details to tease him about next time they were in less intimate contact.

After a few tugs at the back of Sanji's head, Zoro freed the gag from his mouth, and returned it to the usual spot on his left arm. "Thanks for taking good care of this." He said softly, and Sanji knew it was probably the sweetest nothing that would be whispered into his ear for now.

"Yeah," Sanji replied, still listless beneath him, "thanks for...thanks for...that."

Very suave, dimwit.

Zoro could have been blushing, but Sanji's only indication was the slight pause, the barely noticeable change of pitch in his voice when he returned the sentiment, "Yeah, that was....that was....yes."

The moment was comfortable in spirit even if their conversation refused to be anything but awkward. They both sighed in unison, trying to clear their thoughts. "Oi," Sanji suddenly breathed, unassuming and gentle.

"Eh?" Zoro tilted his head a little against the shoulder beneath him.

"Get off of me."

Zoro growled slightly, and couldn't help but admit that it was probably time to get dressed again, anyway. They didn't have any time to waste on enjoying the afterglow, not when they were both likely to pass out from exhaustion at any moment. With Zoro, that was hardly a cause for concern. But Sanji would have rather his pants be up to avoid suspicion.

Turning back and forth, readjusting his back and stretching his strained muscles, Sanji sat up on the table and faced Zoro, pants still around his ankles, hair in a state of chaos. He stretched his arms over his head and watched as Zoro adjusted his haramaki, looked over at him, and just stared.

"What?" Sanji grunted, leaning back against the table and meeting Zoro's eyes challengingly.

Zoro lifted an eyebrow and looked at him with obvious disbelief. "Get. The hell. Dressed," He snatched the blood-stained button-up from a near-by chair and pitched it at Sanji's naked body, "now who's the 'fucking tease'?"

"Well, obviously not you any more, you pretty much made that clear. And I won't soon forget it." He stood up and purposefully slipped his shirt on first. He turned his back to Zoro as he began to button it up, so the round curves of his ass peeked out from beneath the shirt-tails, practically winking at the swordsman.

Revenge, lover.

He heard a frustrated grunt, and glanced back over his shoulder coquettishly. "What is it? Something troubling you?"

Obviously Zoro was not planning on dignifying his show with a response. Sanji turned around and grinned, one hand on his hip, the other propped on the table. His shirt split up the middle to show off everything to Zoro, everything he had so rudely neglected to pay attention to that morning.

Zoro's eyes kept darting downward, past the wrinkled blue linen and past the thin trail of blonde hair before they jerked back up as if afraid of getting caught. His cheeks were blushing. Sanji felt so proud of himself, he could barely hold back his laughter.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find the time to do some exploring at a later date..." he half-shrugged, and bent down, gathering his pants and bringing them back up with him, "Then, we can do it my way. Like you promised."

Though the order of his actions was dictated by necessity, and not desire, Sanji buttoned his pants first, and then fished a cigarette from his pocket. Zoro was still watching him, and Sanji absolutely relished it. Even with all the aches and discomforts he was feeling, and the exhaustion to top it off, he never had trouble mustering up the poise to be flirtatious.

Smoke filled his mouth smoothly, and he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying it, relaxing with it. "Of course," he snapped his gaze to the unmoving Zoro sharply, "to do that, we'll need quite a bit of time. Alone."

"Yeah, speaking of which," Zoro reached back and scratched his shoulder, pretending not to be fazed by the lusty sparkle in Sanji's eyes, "where is everyone?"

"Yeah, I was quite expecting to be caught this time," Sanji puffed thoughtfully, grateful that had not been the case, "maybe Nami figured something was happening and—"

"They're all asleep." Zoro smirked, looking out through the galley window at the deck below.

"What?" Sanji barked incredulously.

"Take a look." He moved aside as Sanji scurried over on still-unstable legs. He was surprised to find that Zoro was right.

"It's sort of cute."

It certainly was. Nami, Luffy, and Ussop formed their own little triangle of slumber, everyone's head on someone else's leg or stomach, everyone's arms flopped lazily over someone else's body. For a half of a second, Sanji wished that he and Zoro were there with the others, sharing in that unconscious moment of comfort and family. But then, Zoro's hands snaked around his waist, and he felt his lover's chiseled jaw fall softly against his shoulder.

"Well, I suppose I should turn in, myself, then," He said brightly, the tone so quietly cheerful that Sanji's eyes widened in surprise, "we've had a difficult morning."

Sanji scoffed, trying to be indignant even though Zoro was playing with the flaps of his shirt, tickling the exposed flesh of his belly as he lifted them. "You'd have slept all day even if we hadn't gotten attacked."

"I'm just living up to my reputation." Zoro snickered, leaning in to nibble at Sanji's ear playfully.

Though flushed by the gesture, Sanji found the strength to stay calm. "Baka." He breathed, even though he was smiling.

"Hey," Zoro's mouth moved closer to his lips, and his arms clenched the embrace around his waist, "you know what we just did...?"

His cheeks pinking, Sanji's smile grew slipshod, lazily stretched across his face, "Yeah..."

Zoro laughed, blowing a happy breath against Sanji's mouth. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Until next time." Sanji replied, but they were already ending the conversation with a kiss.