A LITTLE BIT MORE
Chapter Six
Who was this beautiful creature in his dream? The newest figment of his slumbering mind, clear as every other, more gorgeous than the last. Long legs and full hips, narrow waist beneath a pair of round, firm breasts. She was resting back on a bed of mahogany curls, the hair cascading around her body like a sumptuous blanket, and she was smiling.
When she opened her mouth, he noticed the pinkish-orange tint of her lips, the subtle spray of freckles beneath her garden-green eyes. She was speaking a language he didn't understand, but her intent was clear, her voice beguiling and coaxing him forward.
In a flash of dream-time that seemed like an instant, he was making love to her, slowly and gently. Her body hummed with excitement beneath him, this exotic and decadently beautiful woman who even made his name seem foreign as she screamed it into his ear.
He seemed unfazed as an arm wrapped around his waist, and pulled him away, away from the beautiful mirage who only faded into never-having-been. He was still flushed, and pink-cheeked, and terrifically aroused, as he found himself pulled into a familiar lap, a familiar embrace, surrounded by a familiar scent.
"Zoro..." he whispered, in his dream, a small jostle of his brain making the vision seem a little more real, a little more focused. Zoro's chin rested on his shoulder, and silently he smiled, reaching around to stroke Sanji's erection.
He relaxed completely into the touch, stifling a little cry. A few more flashes, a few more blinks into dark, rich reality, and he realized that he was awake.
His dream-world fading into a waking vision, bathed in starlight on the grassy bluff of the beach, the night still and soft and perfect all around him. Zoro spooned him from behind. And his hands were, indeed, rubbing an anxious circle around his groin.
"Up?" Zoro asked. Sanji realized he must have stirred rather noticeably. He waited a few moments, amazed at the atmosphere surrounding him, the fresh, dewy smell of the jungle's night-rain filling his nostrils. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he felt Zoro's fingers slide over the lurch of his hipbone.
"Yeah," he replied smoothly, trying not to sound as nervous as he suddenly found himself, "how long have you been touching me?"
Zoro chuckled evilly, and sighed as he tried to remember. "Well, to tell you the truth I only woke up a few minutes ago, myself. I guess...it seemed right to seize the moment."
"Your sleep patterns are so odd." Sanji rolled his eyes, though he felt his skin quivering from the slight tickle of Zoro's fingers over the flat front of his pants.
"Everyone else is asleep," he ignored the good-natured dig, and went about the suggestion as best he could, "and I really think it's time we tried a little of this slow and sensuous love-making you're so on about."
He realized with a gulp of amazement that Zoro wasn't simply touching him, teasing him, coaxing him to hardness, but he was actually playing with him. His hand would cup Sanji's crotch, squeeze lightly, brush over the area, and then wander away for a moment, returning to mold the hardening bulge to his liking, arranging it beneath the fabric as he sighed contentedly next to his ear.
"You're tense again," When Zoro leaned closer, pulled him tighter, Sanji's voice trembled, and he cried out despite himself, "I don't have to give you another massage, do I?"
"That would....be nice." Sanji stammered, closing his eyes. His pants fit so loosely these days; he had been losing weight since leaving the Baratie, and it was easy for Zoro to slide his waistband over his hips, unaided, as if the cotton polyester blend was just a towel blocking the view.
He slid Sanji's pants all he way to his knees, smoothing his hot hands over the skin of his well-toned thighs. He even offered a little mumble of pleasant surprise. "You look so different from this angle." His every word shot jolts of electricity through Sanji's body, warming him, cooling him, and then starting the tingling wave all over again. When his broad fingers found purchase against the little flat of stomach over Sanji's groin, he sucked in a breath, biting his lip to keep from crying out. "I think I'll start the massage...here."
Zoro's fingers danced through the soft patch of blonde hair and pushed firmly just above the base of Sanji's cock. His blood rushed there, throbbed there, and for that moment he felt harder and tighter than he ever remembered. He cried out, letting his mouth drop open, and reached back to grab Zoro's head. There wasn't much to hold on to – the tiny spikes of hair slipped right through his fingers. Finally he dropped his clammy palm to Zoro's neck, holding there tightly, gasping and moaning as his body dictated.
Still, Zoro was simply playing with him. His hands examined Sanji like a prize, running over every inch, with every finger, holding him and squeezing him. "What are you doing?" Sanji panted, half-annoyed, but mostly just trying to keep from passing out from the tension.
"I'm not sure," Zoro answered quite truthfully, his tone quite indicative that Sanji should let him continue whatever he was up to, "I just like it, is all."
"Fuck," Sanji exhaled sharply, panting into his own shoulder as Zoro's curious fingers pressed into the weeping crease at the tip of his cock, "you act like you've never seen one before."
"Well, not someone else's," Zoro snapped, and spread the emerging wetness of Sanji's pre-come with his fingers, "I really like it, though."
"Obviously." he labored his breath, struggling to keep his brain on task. No one else had ever touched him this way, so meticulous and appraising. It brought back memories that he felt almost coy to be sharing in Zoro's presence. His own fumbling midnight fingers, learning the wonders of his own body, petrified that he might be discovered as he taught himself how to come in absolute stillness, absolute silence, only his fingers moving with burning intensity beneath the covers as he curled toward the wall on his side.
He felt exposed, vulnerable, and weaker now that Zoro had quite unexpectedly broken into such intimate territory. The change slowed his breath, quickened his heartbeat, and weighted his eyelids, even when Zoro's ministrations continued on their lazy, painstaking way.
Zoro's breath still smelled of rum, as it made little gusts over Sanji's shoulder, where his chin still rested. "I've never watched anyone come. Not like this." Zoro admitted, though it was hardly a confession at all to Sanji's ears.
"That's....not a surprise, Zoro." He replied flatly.
"Not even myself," and suddenly Sanji knew just what he was meaning, "I don't really....do that. It just clouds my mind, distracts me. If I do, it's always quick, private, eyes closed, just to cleanse my thoughts. But....I've always wondered..."
His grip tightened in a firm, breathtaking hold around Sanji's shaft, and his hand pumped one quick, deliberate time. Sanji's breath caught and he whimpered loudly, digging his fingers into the muscle of Zoro's neck.
"You have something beautiful here," he whispered into Sanji's ear, as his hand began to stroke steadily, building a slow, wonderful rhythm, "I want to watch you come."
Sanji could hardly breathe, and certainly wasn't going to risk speaking.
"You don't have to be nervous," Zoro added, his voice a little different, almost lonely from the silence, "come on, be a smartass like you always are."
"Who said I'm nervous?" Sanji, cheeks blood red and eyes fluttering nearly closed with every breath, found himself gasping.
"Hn," Zoro chuckled, clenching his fingers tighter, distributing that jarring, swelling rush of feeling back and forth through his cock, which was quickly becoming the center of his consciousness, "that's more like it. Talk to me."
"You...wouldn't talk to me...why...should I....?" He panted, and suddenly tried to splay forward, throwing one arm out and thrashing a little in Zoro's arms. The pleasure and pressure were starting to mount in intensity, and his body was reacting accordingly.
But Zoro calmly stopped him, slipping his other arm around Sanji's chest, pulling him in tightly. The mass of his flawless body started absorbing the shockwaves as they shook the smaller man, and Zoro even moaned a bit as he felt them, felt Sanji's abdomen quiver against his arm, felt his hands shaking as he clawed for a place to grip. Sanji gritted his teeth, whined deep in his throat.
When his legs began to shudder, Zoro wrapped one of his own around him, holding him tightly, their bodies practically molding together and becoming one at a fleeting glance. But still Sanji felt Zoro staring over his shoulder, watching his cock drip, feeling it lurch in his fist, knowing, instinctively knowing, exactly what he was doing.
"Say it?" Zoro asked simply, somewhere between a command and a humble request. Sanji was too disoriented to figure things out for himself.
"What?" His voice dragged over the word, withdrawn and fragile, knowing that at any moment, with the slightest reinforcement of the pleasure he was feeling, his orgasm threatened to hit. He didn't want to be unprepared when it did.
"Tell me when you come," he offered as an explanation, not feeling the need to say anything else. His hand sped up, and he leaned in to wipe a careless kiss across Sanji's cheek.
"When I.....oh...." he moaned, his back trying to arch as a pulling sensation started to build in his hips. He only pressed himself harder into Zoro's body, feeling every fold of fabric between them until his muscles relaxed, and immediately he felt it again, stronger, more definite, "when I come...ohh...that's....I'm...."
Sanji, though blank-minded and devoid of any rational emotion that could hold a candle to his desire, managed to turn his head back toward Zoro and whine, eyes clenched tightly shut. "...coming..."
It was barely a whisper, but it was enough, and his body took over from there. For the first time since he was a bashful boy fondling himself in the darkness, he came in near-silence, not a sound escaping his lips. Only his breath, syncopated and shuddering, falling back against Zoro, mingling with the familiar sweet scent of his lover's lips as they strained toward his, wanting to kiss him but unable to look away.
Though his eyes were closed Sanji knew what Zoro was seeing. He was usually quite fond of watching it himself, feeling the raw animal power that seized him whenever he came on something, anything, even lonely nothing. He wondered very clearly what Zoro was thinking, wondered with a twinge of trans-orgasmic arrogance if he was silently worshipping his cock.
It wasn't something he was very secretive about, of course. Isolated orphans like himself rarely made themselves so available to the pleasures of the flesh without something to back it up. From his earliest months of adolescence Sanji had known, deep down, intrinsically, that he was gifted, gifted in talent as well as in body. He knew how to weave the webs of sexual decadence, knew exactly what to do with the thing between his legs, that won him more than his fair share of admirers. On particularly lonely, bar-crawling nights, it became the bait he couldn't wait to offer, slipping a hand beneath a cascade of long black hair to lean forward and whisper to some drunken stranger that he had a huge dick. Very few women could resist, he came to find, and he couldn't remember one who had ever been disappointed.
But here was Zoro, moaning deeply, thoughtfully, pumping him dry and simply witnessing, who had him feeling different. Zoro wasn't scared of him, wasn't intimidated by his gender, worried that at the drop of a hat he might turn into the sort of lustful paragon of manhood who stole what he wanted, didn't ask questions, and took pains to neglect being gentle. No, Zoro was quite the opposite of all that. The ego swell that Sanji usually felt in his position grew stronger, knowing that Zoro was admiring him by choice, not simply out of some jaded obligation.
It was quite a welcome change, to know that he was with someone who was eager to learn, eager to enjoy, even if he hesitated to admit it.
Sanji smirked and finally let out a groan as Zoro's hand slipped off of the softening muscle. "Your instinct is going to get you in trouble one of these days." He growled sweetly, reaching into his breast pocket for the obligatory cigarette.
A flash of light went up momentarily. A dancing spire of smoke drifted slowly after it. Sanji sucked back deeply on the cigarette, satisfied, not knowing anything else to say.
After several moments, when Zoro still had not responded, he turned his head halfway, and snapped his fingers lightly. "Hey."
"Oi, oi, I'm all right. Just being quiet, nothing wrong with that."
Sanji nodded, and felt the usual creep of naughtiness tip-tap at his brain. "So you liked that?" He asked plainly, flicking a bit of ash into the grass and sand. The smells all around him were beginning to melt into one another; rain and salt air, nature and sweet-musky mold, Zoro's sweat and the rum on his breath, cigarette smoke and come. Everything was just a part of the tapestry now, and Sanji ceased to worry about differentiating.
"A lot." Zoro grunted, shifting a little bit until he was clutching Sanji looser than before, allowing them both a bit of room to spread out, relax. Sanji still kept himself close to the warmth of his lover's body, pressing his ass deliberately into the crook of Zoro's hips, delighting in the fresh, unexpectedly marvelous feeling of being the one held from behind.
"Never had a hand-job that intense. You're really something else."
"Sanji..."
That tone made his eyes wrench wide open, made his mouth go dry for some reason. If Zoro didn't sound thoughtful, a little bit sad, then Sanji didn't know what else ever had.
"Uh-huh."
"I never....really knew this about myself."
"Hm." Somehow he already knew what Zoro was preparing to confess. He didn't feel any particular need to be verbose.
"I've never even wanted to look at a woman...the way I just looked at you." He punctuated the sentence with a touch of his hand to Sanji's bare hip, unmoving, vulnerable. For a terrifying moment, Sanji had no idea what to do, and was absolutely dumbstruck by the bleakness in Zoro's voice.
"Oi, Zoro...." he finally whispered, unable to articulate the most basic comforting words.
"Things make a little more sense now. But, I guess...." he paused, and Sanji heard a more characteristic, heavy, restless breath escape and break against the back of his neck. It sent a chill down his spine, which he felt almost betrayed the somber moment, "I guess, just...thank you."
A meaningful silence said more than any 'you're welcome' Sanji could have mustered, had his mind been up to the task. Instead he was overwhelmed, head resting in the soft grass as Zoro's fingers skittered lazily in the little tuft of hair beneath his naval.
At last, Sanji smiled, and turned his head back again, beckoning Zoro silently for a kiss, even as a cloud of smoke drifted softly from his lips. "Hey." He almost whispered.
Zoro moved in gently and kissed him over his shoulder, propping up slightly to offer Sanji all the breathtaking, hard, and somehow romantic impact their kisses had come to afford. He felt the burning cigarette between his fingers grow lighter, the ash fading out and falling against his jacket as the kiss went on longer and longer. Still, they didn't shift, they didn't budge, they made no effort to impose anything different.
A drop of rain hit Sanji's forehead. Then another, on his thigh.
Within moments a fresh, jungle-scented rain was falling, soaking them with thin, light drops that fell in sheets from the dark, calming sky.
Water leaked in between their lips as they smiled and pulled apart. Thunder broke, but somewhere distant, somewhere over the water. Their smiles had turned to boyish grins of excitement. "Should we take shelter?" Zoro wondered out loud.
"Make love to me." Was Sanji's only response, light and airy, absolutely enchanted by the perfection of the way the cosmos was aligning, the climactic realization of his fantasies. He reached up and touched Zoro's cheek with his hand, wiping the water away only to see it replaced within instants.
Droplets clung to his eyelashes, and he let his lids hang heavy as he smiled a drowsy, intimate smile at Zoro.
Zoro kissed him again. His lips felt brilliant in the rain, like an all new kiss Sanji had never had before. He tasted it again, enjoying the freshness, the wetness, the remarkable slickness of their mouths moving together. Before they even parted, he felt Zoro's hands at his waist, rubbing up the side of his body, coaxing at the sopping wet jacket and shirt he was wearing.
Intensely hoping, but secretly knowing, that the others would not feel the need to seek them out any time soon, they slowly and leisurely undressed. Sanji knew his shivers were not entirely from the balmy cold of the jungle rain, as Zoro pulled him back, and he found himself pressed breathlessly against the full length of his lover's strong, wet, and very naked body. It took a moment for Sanji to orient himself, to process the hard curves and glorious topography of Zoro's form. Past the smooth patina the rain had left between them, he could feel everything that had always invaded his fantasies without warning before, from the gentle ripples of Zoro's abdomen breathing against his back, to the unmistakable hardness that pressed just beneath his ass.
He let out a long, meditative sigh, and closed his eyes. Zoro's fingers, the ones that weren't circled around his waist, holding him tightly, touched his hair. He combed through the soaking blonde mess, parting it comfortably, arranging it with unusually wispy strokes from his broad, fumbling fingers. Sanji smiled at the attention, and squirmed hopefully.
On his cue, those fingers moved lower, slicked to glistening by the rain, pressing without pause or hesitation at the no-longer-foreign territory. Sanji gasped regardless, the touch still overwhelming although it was familiar. There wasn't the smell of olive oil, the strain of the gag in his mouth. There wasn't even Zoro hovering unseen somewhere outside of his view and his touch. Zoro was all around him, behind him, filling his every sense as he breathed into Sanji's ear and slid his fingers smoothly into his body.
He let go of Sanji's waist, and used the hand to lift one of his legs. The difference made by that simple change in position wrenched Sanji's eyes open, made him cry out loud, as Zoro smirked audibly behind his ear.
"I want to live up to our compromise," he leaned in to whisper, his tongue lashing out to lick the rim of Sanji's ear. The wetness was only a brief warmth against the rain's incessant shower, but the heat of Zoro's tongue was suddenly something Sanji wanted to feel all over his body, "so I'll try to pay more attention to you."
He kissed the back of Sanji's neck, holding his head there as his fingers slid free. They slid between Sanji's legs quickly, gently pressing against his balls and caressing his cock gently.
"Ahh!" Sanji gasped, louder than he ever would have anywhere else, amazed at the rush of freedom he felt at voicing his reactions as simply as the sensations came.
Zoro smiled and panted hard into his ear, as the length of his erection rocked against Sanji's ass. "Do you want it?" He asked, sinfully teasing and uncharacteristically dramatic.
Sanji nodded, eyes closed as he whined in response to Zoro's hand, still stroking his cock. He nodded again, harder, and then he felt Zoro's teeth touch his ear. So gentle, yet so powerful – teeth strong enough to maneuver a katana, just barely nipping the edge of his earlobe. He yelped, and felt himself throb into Zoro's hand. The swordsman chuckled. "Is that what you meant? Does talking to you like that really make you feel good?"
One leg still raised in the air, crooked unmistakably, Sanji nodded again, and managed to find his voice, hoping it would reach Zoro amidst the rain's steady backbeat, "Ask me again."
"Do you want my cock?" Zoro breathed, a sound Sanji knew would echo forever arousing in his ear. And this time he felt himself clench, unable to wait any longer to cry:
"YES!" He squeezed his shoulders back, practically flattening his top half against Zoro, shrinking into himself and panting like a zealous virgin, "fuck me.....fuck me, please...."
"Well, as long as I have permission..." Zoro mumbled, and as always Sanji could hear the smile on his lips, even with his eyes closed.
He knew it was too much to ask that Zoro treat him like a blushing bride or a shrinking violet, but somehow simply being so close to him, so completely enrobed by him, felt like enough. If it wasn't angry, discordant sex in some kind of way, Sanji would have doubted it was Zoro at all.
Sure enough, Zoro tore into him just like before, his entry aided this time by the mind-bending, slick-stickiness of the rain. But somehow, when he heard Sanji's almost painful howl, he managed to pace himself, even mumbling "I'm sorry" into his ear. Sanji's ears warmed with subtle embarrassment.
"No, it's all right," Sanji replied, gasping between words, lifting his hand to reach back and wind into one of Zoro's, "I like it. I really do. Just...just keep talking to me."
Though Zoro was already moving inside of him, his rhythm a bit smoother and less forceful than before, Sanji's request left him dumbfounded again. "What about?"
Sanji was patient. Thankfully he had prepared a bit of a curiosity to spring upon Zoro. "Tell me the first time you knew you wanted me."
Zoro took several moments to respond, and Sanji knew better than to simply assume he had been distracted.
"Tell me." He urged him again, gritting his teeth and bracing himself against Zoro's thrusts, which were gaining in speed and strength. He squeezed their slippery fingers together, and licked his lips to taste the wetness on them. For the first time, he opened his mouth to pant, letting the rain trickle in.
"I was thinking about how you fight," Zoro began, deeply, reluctantly, obviously not the world's best storyteller, and more than a little preoccupied with the sensations of sex, "you're so strong, and yet....you don't....seem that way. You're...well..."
"Ahh!" Sanji convulsed and yelped as Zoro drew a lightning charge from his body, "a weakling?"
"No, you're beautiful," he admitted quickly, probably hoping Sanji wouldn't notice, "whenever I'd watch you change, catch a glimpse of you naked, I'd get this rush I couldn't explain—you're so....just...." he was at a loss for words again, but the way his hands were suddenly moving slowly, appreciatively, on Sanji's cock suggested everything his words could not express, "like a woman. But so much better. So much better because you're so strong. So willful. So completely independent."
"That's not true." Sanji gasped immediately.
"You are too," Zoro shot back like an indignant child, not in the mood to argue when they were both so close to euphoria. The ground began to soften beneath them and the grass made little squeaking sounds as they fucked, "you think I'd let myself do this if you weren't?"
It was enough reason to convince him, inexplicably. "...and?"
"Mm?" Their faces were both pinched in concentration, their movements suggesting that one, or both, were achingly close to completion.
"What did you want from me?" Sanji asked softly, his voice now barely rising above the rain.
Zoro's voice shifted, thrown ahead into veracity by the sudden rush of pre-orgasmic pleasure, "I wanted to fuck you so bad," he admitted, panting, growling, nearly crying, "I wanted anything, anything at all I could get my hands on, but in the end I always wanted to just fuck you like crazy. To lose control. To let it all out. There are so many things...so many ways I've forced myself to believe I didn't want you, but here you are...just making me remember them..."
Sanji forced himself to be silent, not even the scream out as Zoro's cock pounded incessant sparks of pleasure, clenching and soaring, through his body. He wanted to hear more, if more was to be heard. Nothing would have made him interrupt Zoro at that moment.
But the rain only fell harder, the drops becoming fatter, heavier, splashing against their bodies where they landed. Any words Zoro may have said would have been drowned out regardless. Sanji considered it a sign, and resolved to only listen to his body from that point.
They shifted without really knowing it, as Zoro pushed harder against him and Sanji could only relent. By the time he gathered his senses, he found his stomach planted against the soft, soaking grass, and he could feel the weight of Zoro's body on top of him. Their legs tangled in a wonderful way as their bodies slipped against each other in the rain, making Zoro's thrusts more uneven and random.
"Oh fuck yes." Was all Sanji could muster, saving as much breath as the new position allowed him, metering his cries in a way that only seemed to make them louder. Zoro, too, was moaning now, in his usual half-growling, animal sort of way.
Sanji dug his fingers into the wet soil, as water slid to drip like a faucet from the point of his chin. He arched his back against Zoro and tried to lift his hips after every push would thrust him back into the ground. His cock slid wonderfully against the soft, pliant grass below, and with each motion he felt himself spinning, blanking, focusing on nothing at all.
When he felt Zoro's lips clutch the skin at the back of his neck, breathing hard, panting kisses against him, every tactic of control failed him at once. He came between his belly and the grass below, shrieking like a schoolgirl, choking on the rain as he felt what may have been tears of pleasure seeping from his clenched eyes. His sobbing, panting, rhythmic cries died out slowly, and when he felt like he was nearly too weak to continue, too numb to be receptive to Zoro's magnificent performance, he felt his lover tighten, heard him stop a rattling moan in his throat. And then Sanji's stomach fluttered, his throat caught a breath as the warmth of Zoro's orgasm filled his body.
He flattened himself against the ground, laid one cheek against the grass. Still spread-eagled beneath Zoro, he waited until the full weight of the swordsman fell on top of him, taking his breath away only for a moment before it felt wonderful, so welcome, better than he would have thought.
This time, they enjoyed it. They throbbed and recovered in the afterglow, no fears rushing them to speed up the process, no propriety even requiring them to cover themselves after the fact. Their bodies simply molded to each other, as they breathed a conversation of gasping, plaintive breaths punctuated by the occasional stray noise, sometimes a chuckle, sometimes a moan, but very rarely anything concrete and articulate. For the first time Sanji felt the effect their jaunt had wrought upon his muscles, in his back and in his thighs, where he had struggled to force himself back against Zoro's incessant thrusts. The tiny aches were gorgeous reminders, and when he thought of their sex as athletic, competitive, it made him love it even more.
It took several minutes for the rain to fall softer, soft enough for the two to hear each other, as water-logged and weary as they were. "Sugoi." Sanji finally breathed, now holding his chin up with one wrist.
Zoro could barely even take a deep breath in response. "I'm exhausted." He managed, holding his lips near Sanji's ear again.
"Let's go down to the camp." Sanji suggested.
"Nothing to say?"
"Yeah, you're damn good." Was all Sanji could provide at that moment, his brain too tired and his body too weak to conjure up anything poetic or priceless. Not that it would have fit their general mood, anyway.
"Likewise." Zoro muttered, grunting strenuously as he lifted himself off of Sanji's body to stand up.
On their feet, they kissed, letting their hands travel freely into each others' hair and across each others' slippery skin. They warmed each other with their breath, held their embrace for a few silent, sultry moments, before Zoro glanced over the side of the bluff. "Yeah, let's get dressed and get down there."
"Yeah."
They only wore their sopping clothes for as long as it took to descend the bluff, find their way to the camp, and slip inside.
Nami and Luffy appeared to be passed out, side-by-side beneath the sheltering tent. A half-eaten melon still balanced halfway in Luffy's outstretched hand, and Nami's cheeks were pink, happy from drunkenness. Ussop curled up near to her side, clutching an unwashed paintbrush. Upon further inspection, they found a hastily-painted caricature of that night's bonfire, and the three dancing around it. Sanji smiled as he reached down to grab a stray blanket.
"I still wouldn't have traded." He said softly, knowing that Zoro would understand him.
"Ah," Zoro agreed, already removing his shirt, "me neither."
They wrapped up in little blanket-cocoons, Sanji squeezing obtrusively between Nami and Ussop, as Zoro sprawled out next to Luffy. Listening to the others gently breathing as they slept, Sanji inhaled the soft fragrance of Nami's hair, and took his final sleepy moments to reflect on how perfect everything seemed.
For a moment, he thought he heard something moving just outside their tent, but he was too tired, too blissful, too convinced of Nami's assurances that they were completely alone.
It's nothing, he smiled to himself, and cuddled deeper into his blanket, determined to fall asleep before it dampened too much to be comfortable.