A LITTLE BIT MORE
Chapter Eight
Armerind. For as long as he could manage, for as much time as he could eke out of the next precious day, Sanji was determined to forget that name, that face, and all the implications that came along with it. Even if the cunning islander was keeping watch over them, he was resolved not to care less. He stood up in the waist-deep water near the rocky side of the lake, and brushed his wet hair back, enjoying the sun as it added a little color to his alabaster pallor. Armerind wasn't going to ruin the rest of the day, because in the space of a moment, he had learned far too often, the impossible was always likely to happen.
Together, he and Zoro had made gentle arrangements to Nami, Luffy, and Ussop, rolling them onto their backs, noticing how they were now no longer sleeping contentedly, but truly unconscious, comatose. Quietly they had stared at their nakama, wondering, neither man wanting to say the first word.
"He would have killed them," Sanji finally muttered, "I suppose we should consider this a fortunate turn of events."
"I would've liked to see him try." Zoro's voice had been hard, calm, and relentlessly confident.
"He got far enough to do this." Sanji replied somberly, not meaning to cast aspersions on Zoro, but unable to escape the cruel reality of things.
"We shouldn't have left them," Zoro mumbled, the implication squeezing Sanji's heart.
"We trusted Nami," he responded firmly, "I'm sure there's no way we can place blame at this point."
"I guess you're right," Zoro quickly retreated into a calm. Sanji wished that he could hit the switches of his emotions so easily, "at least he didn't do them any harm."
"You admire him."
"There's something more to him, though. He didn't just decide to do this. He didn't just pack up and become a hermit without something else driving him. I think he's mad."
"And yet, still, you admire him."
"I'm not sure," neither a confirmation nor a denial, and it answered nothing in Sanji's mind, none of the questions that drew parallels between Zoro's honor and Armerind's fanaticism. His doubts remained, but in the moments of silence that followed, Sanji scooted closer, and nervously gripped Zoro's fingers like a child.
When no words came up between them, when Zoro's hand eased into his comfortingly, he finally found the courage to admit, "I'm scared."
"Don't be," there was unbelievable assurance in his tone, and it did its job of snuffing most of Sanji's fears, "this is nothing. Trust me."
Stiff, conflicted, he replied with a weighty, "Yeah."
At which point they had decided to go swimming.
For some time, Sanji spent more time underwater than above, not even wanting to speak to Zoro for fear of saying something he would regret, something that would disturb the tranquility they were trying to capture. Instead, he concentrated on the gentle feeling of floating, swimming through the bright, warm water, dreaming of All Blue and wondering if it could possibly feel so nice.
He had surfaced near the rocks in hopes of stealing a moment's peace in the sunshine. He blinked at the line of trees on the opposite side of the lake, and enjoyed the feeling of the water lapping serenely around his bare hips. The pain in his leg was subsiding, the more he worked it under the water. It was curious, for such debilitating pain to recede so soon, but he figured that Armerind had known it would be that way all along.
"You're avoiding me." Zoro's voice suddenly shook his body, surprising him so much that he nearly shouted.
Sanji looked up to find him, and found Zoro sitting atop one of the odd formations protruding from the jetties, only a few feet away. With a sudden dryness in his throat, he was barely able to distinguish the meaning of those words as he studied Zoro's naked body.
At last, he waded a bit closer. "I guess I sort of am."
"But I want to be with you today," Zoro said nonchalantly, as if his point didn't even matter, and flicked at what might have been a dragonfly buzzing around his knee, "it's a nice opportunity."
Hoping his blush may have been covered by a sunburn, Sanji stared up at him. "I don't think I'm really in the mood, right now." You're a horrible liar. And why are you lying, anyway?
"Jackass," Zoro sneered down at him, obviously a tad insulted, "I meant I want to be around you. Let's spend some time together. Just because I never got along with you before doesn't mean the only time we're allowed to be around each other is when we fuck."
"I..." Sanji began, but knew his lie wasn't going to last much longer. He nodded thoughtfully, completely off his usual game of piss and sarcasm as he responded, "....yeah, I understand that. I guess I don't want to ruin anything, though. Don't want to burden you."
His hands flitted over the surface of the water compulsively, his anxiety no doubt showing. But Zoro only chuckled, staring down at him with a look that was soft, almost sweet. "Whatever. I'll follow you, regardless. Unlike you, I don't want to be alone."
A flash expression of mirth crossed his face as he glanced up, then quickly back down. "I don't want to be alone either, I guess."
He didn't see it, but as Zoro said, "Whatever happened to you being so selfish?" he could only imagine a smile on his face.
"Get down here." Sanji half-whispered, and waved him forward.
Zoro sat up and swung his legs over the side before sliding into the water. "Like you said before, it's just a regular day."
His skin was glistening in the iridescent noontime sun, and his earrings caught the glare in sparkling little blinks. It was easy to look past the terrible scars from his most recent battle, the ones that still weren't healing as fast as they should have been. Nothing seemed like a blemish when Zoro carried it, each drop of blood like a jewel, each gash in his skin like a badge of honor. Sanji waited for him to come nearer, watching him closely the entire time.
"Hungry yet?" He asked finally, unable to stand the silence lest he end it with a pounce rather than a word.
"Of course. But I don't feel like getting out just yet." Zoro came near enough to slide his arms around Sanji's waist, and pulled him forward in a possessive embrace.
"Yeah, I guess I don't either."
"You're not very decisive today," Zoro noticed. Sanji had been wondering when he might, "it's not like you."
"Good of you to notice," Sanji rolled his eyes and muttered, not feeling quite right in the intimate space they were sharing. He squirmed a little in Zoro's arms, wondering what could possibly be making him so uncertain, at the same time that the other man seemed more forthcoming than ever, "it's just surreal. Everything about right now."
"Well, that goes without saying. It's weird not to have them around, even if this might have been what we were secretly wanting."
How unexpectedly insightful. Sanji raised his eyebrows slightly, and bent his head against Zoro's shoulder with a sigh, letting him support his weight. "I guess we still have a lot of work to do before we're comfortable with each other."
"You want to know what I think?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think anything needs to change. Not really. We're forcing ourselves right now, and it's just stupid," as Zoro spoke, Sanji couldn't help but wonder if he simply hadn't noticed how calming his voice was, when it reassured him, "we're meant to be at odds--somehow we just get along that way. Maybe it's what attracts us. I need to risk my life every other day like it's no big deal, and you need to be a lovesick fool. It makes sense to me, at least."
"I suppose," he slid his hands over Zoro's arms. He loved the feeling of his muscles beneath his fingers, loved knowing that they were holding him, in some strange way defending him, protecting him. At the same time he felt that joy, he also felt a pang of guilt for not having the same thing to offer Zoro, at least not in such a tangible way, "I just…"
The swordsman still had an uncanny way of saying the simplest thing, and chasing away every argument in Sanji's mind. "You look out for me, and I'll look out for you, okay?"
He leaned forward and placed an awkward, but well-intentioned, kiss on Sanji's nose.
"Okay." Sanji whispered, not wanting to move, not even wanting to breathe. If Zoro was right--if nothing had to change—then he wasn't going to say anything more. Everything on his mind went against that logic, and seemed completely moot when Sanji re-evaluated the situation. They stayed close, Zoro silent and unquestioning as Sanji cleared his mind of all the worries and doubts, the regrets and the fears.
I'm in love with him. I'm in love with everything he is, and everything he was. I don't want him to change.
He wished there were some fabric to wind his fists into, as his fingers curled against Zoro's shoulders.
I don't want him to stop taking risks, and scaring me to death, and seeming not to care.
With a smile, he looked up at Zoro finally, and moved in to kiss him.
Because then it just wouldn't be him at all.
A breeze blew through, chilling them just a bit as it hit the water on their skin. They kissed silently, almost unmoving, simply meditating on the touch. When Sanji pulled away, his face seemed immediately cured of every despair he had felt before. Zoro seemed to notice the change.
"A race." Sanji suggested suddenly.
An explanation wasn't even needed. Zoro simply glanced at him suspiciously, his embrace less placating as the challenge presented itself. "You're still injured."
"Are you kidding?" Sanji pushed away from him, comfortable enough to break their embrace, and floated back a bit. He lifted his leg, splashing as he did, and kicked out at the knee. With his foot breaking the water, he wiggled his toes and grinned, "it's not that bad. Besides, when it comes to swimming, I could beat you with both hands tied."
"That's a boast." Zoro scoffed, reaching out and grabbing Sanji's foot. Though he jerked a little in surprise, Sanji managed to relax, pleased, into the touch. He moaned slightly. Zoro reacted with a chuckle, and a tighter grip, "so what are the stakes?"
"Oh, betting now, are we?" He replied, eyebrows pulsing curiously.
"Why not make things more interesting?" His hair was dark, nearly black when it was wet. Sanji watched that dark head descend, felt Zoro's lips close sweetly over his big toe. A shudder sent him deeper into the water, nearly submerging again as Zoro's mouth worked little whimpers and whines from him.
An idea filled his mind with wicked anticipation. "Loser has to do anything the winner wants," Sanji gasped, "anything at all."
"Oh, that's a good bet." Zoro smiled, relinquishing Sanji's foot to splash forward and tackle him. They floated for a moment before they began to sink, pressing their lips together as the water rushed in around them.
They drifted beneath as far as they could, as long as their lungs could hold out while they continued their kiss. Finally, with a frantic little shove, a burst of bubbles forced their mouths apart as Sanji swam, breathless, to the surface. They broke into the sunshine, heaving breath, laughing and smiling as they did.
Sanji reached for Zoro, smoothing down the unruly, freestanding wet hair, rubbed the cool wetness over his cheekbones, and rolled his earlobes between his fingers. "Big ears," he scoffed with a bashful smile, still holding on to them, noticing the euphoric smile the touch painted on Zoro's face.
"I know," Zoro smirked tightly, trying to think of a suitable comeback while his eyes focused on Sanji's face. At last he pressed a thumb against his forehead, tracing down, "weird eyebrows."
"Hm," Sanji moaned softly, and closed his eyes as Zoro's touch pressed above them. He whispered over the hushed, rolling sound of the water around them, "baka."
"Love." Zoro whispered back, and kissed his lips gently, virginally, just soft enough to seem like a dream.
"What….what did you say?"
"Nothing at all." Zoro insisted with one breath, combing through Sanji's hair as their kiss deepened.
But, despite all the posturing, Sanji had heard him loud and clear, and the knowledge made his heart so full it felt bigger than his body could hold.
~*~*~
Lazy kisses and quiet playfulness marked the moments until they finally resolved to go ahead with the race they had planned. With that, their more familiar personas returned. A private banter of trash-talking and taunting lasted up until the very moment they struck out from the strange rock formation where Zoro had been sitting, and headed for the gnarled tree that was growing some feet deep in one of the swampy inlets hung with overgrowth.
It didn't last long enough to offer much variety, but Sanji knew that Zoro's mind was focusing on the same thing that his was, on the possibilities presented by the terms of their bet. He figured, as he pushed himself past the stings of discomfort still aggravating his leg, losing wouldn't be so bad, either, at least not where consequences were concerned. As long as their two bodies were concerned, he wasn't afraid of doing anything that Zoro suggested. With a devilish smile, he thought of several scenarios, not one of them less succulent than the last.
When he reached out for the trunk of the tree, he was panting, practically in agony again from the strain he had wrought upon such a recent wound. But competition was competition, and he was never one to take such things lightly, especially when the suggestion had been his in the first place.
The space of one breath allowed him a triumphant smile as he reached up. But in the split second he hesitated, savoring his obvious victory, Zoro's hand suddenly shot out of the water, and all Sanji touched was the back of his palm.
He gaped, blinking through the water and the dripping hair in his eyes.
"I win." Zoro panted beside him.
They didn't discuss the terms of the wager at that moment. No, that moment was reserved for the expected bickering and accusations of cheating, the sort of un-sportsmanlike conduct that each was so eager to subject the other to. Their stomachs were grumbling by that point as an appropriate backdrop to the row, and as they pulled themselves onto the beach thoughts of unrest were quickly replaced by the all-consuming feeling of hunger.
Sanji cooked and smoked, naked but for his apron, watching between glances at the fire as Zoro did push-ups and crunches in the sand. For some time they pouted, determined to be nettled if for no other reason than keeping up appearances.
"Oi." Sanji called across the beach, digging his toes into the sand as their one-pot lunch simmered to the side.
Zoro glanced up, leveled his eyes at Sanji expectantly, and rolled over onto one side. It would have been a lie to say, that, after only a few hours, he was already jaded to the flagrant nudity. With a small, forceful sigh, Sanji kept his eyes from drifting, and cocked his head at Zoro. "You think he's watching?"
"I've been wondering that. I suspect, though, that he's watching the ship rather than us. Of course, if he is," Zoro threw one hand into the air and waved, his face drawn with ennui, "it means he's not practicing, and that means good things for me." He let out a confident breath, and rose to his feet. Sand clung in pastiche patterns all over his skin, and no matter how much he tried to wipe away, there always seemed to be more. Sanji glanced over for a moment to lift the lid on the pot, and a cloud of steam bellowed from within. The scent of spice and seafood started to waft along the beach, and it was almost enough of a distraction that Sanji didn't fixate on Zoro's hands roughly dusting the sand from his ass.
"So you're going to go practice, are you?" Sanji said, not even realizing until he said it that his voice was so flat, so accusatory.
"Uh-huh." Obliviously, Zoro stretched his arms, rolled his shoulders, cracked his back at enough distance that Sanji's skin didn't creep to hear it.
"Good," he cast a momentary glance up, and then, just as quickly, back down to the pot, "you should be prepared."
"What's the food?" Zoro nodded his head at the pot, casually brushing off Sanji's disinterested tone.
"Shrimp jambalaya." He muttered.
"Oh," Zoro paused. The moment was wholly uncomfortable. "I, um…I really like that."
"I know."
Sanji let out an aggravated puff of smoke. It had only taken a few moments for the mood to change completely. Foremost of his compulsions was to rise to his feet, retrieve his clothes, get dressed and pout for the rest of the day. Nothing, he knew, would sink his spirits faster than watching Zoro train like a zealot.
This is completely childish of me. He knew, and he told himself, and he tried to fight it in his heart. Any other time I'd stand aside and watch him fight, and just wait. I'd make some snide remark about his outmoded sense of honor, and I'd refuse to let his bloody ass in my kitchen.
A pang of premature loneliness stung him, and for a moment he had a terrifying thought.
If he loses….I'll be alone until the others wake up. A night…maybe longer.
He'd never been alone. All his life there had always been someone within arm's reach, earshot, or walking distance at least. He may have sequestered himself, touted his solitude, but the comfort Sanji required was something he had never requested, and had always taken for granted. Not until now, with the horrible prospect of a long, lonely night ahead of him on this damned, strange island, did he realize how much he had always relied on the unspoken presence of others.
I'll never forgive him for making me think this much. And about such depressing things. He chewed on the cigarette's filter with his front teeth as he began to dim the fire under the pot.
"Well, eat up, then," he sighed, thrusting a bowl at Zoro. He didn't even look at him. Somehow, he was determined to once again be as bratty as possible.
After a time, the bowl still hadn't been taken. He shook it once, then glanced over with a stern, lifted eyebrow.
Zoro was crouching close by, staring intently, analyzing his face.
"What?!" Sanji barked.
"Oh my god, you're pouting." Zoro realized with a sneer, and snatched the bowl from Sanji's hand. The cook only snorted in response. With a gentle thump, Zoro planted himself in the sand, and scooped up his lunch in silence.
Sanji wasn't fond of jambalaya, at least not the way Zoro enjoyed it. Too much pepper – not enough rice. But, when Zoro had asked for his favorite, considering their limited provisions, it was the only thing he could think of. He ate nervously, pushing around his meat to pick out the rice and vegetables, even as Zoro helped himself to a second bowlful.
"It's really good," was the first thing he managed amidst his gorging, "thanks."
"Hey, no problem. I know it's good." Sanji answered cattily, hiding behind his hair as he hungered for a nice steak with mushroom sauce, or a delicate chicken l'orange.
"I hope this doesn't make me tired," as if he ever needed an excuse, "I can't afford to fall right to sleep."
Sanji let out a sigh, and dropped his fork against the inside of his bowl with a clatter. "You have a whole day and a half, don't strain yourself."
Zoro stared apathetically, swallowed, and finally pointed at him. "Okay, if you're going to be selfish, don't give yourself away by pretending to be concerned for my welfare."
Bitterly speechless, Sanji only glared back.
With a scoff, Zoro muttered under his breath, "Drama queen."
"So what are you going to make me do?" Sanji asked point-blank.
"Oh, you mean the bet?"
"Of COURSE I mean the bet, idiot." So much for taking him by surprise by being blunt.
"Well, um," Zoro blushed, and Sanji noticed, but they both did their best to seem nonchalant, "I hadn't thought about it yet, not at length."
"Liar."
"No, really," Zoro growled back, still shoveling in whatever food would fit between words, "the minute we started racing, I guess my mind sort of switched gears."
"Yeah…my thoughts don't tend to shift around that easily."
"No," Zoro replied firmly, immediately, "you have a pretty one-track mind, you just don't want to admit it. You have undisciplined thought patterns, it's also why you can't sleep."
"I didn't know you were a psychiatrist. Eat your damn food."
Zoro held up his fork pointedly, as if to drive home the point that he already was, "Fuck you, you just don't want to take advice."
"You know, you make an awful lot of assumptions about me."
"And most of them are right."
"Hn." Sanji looked away, toward the line of trees where they had disappeared into the woods following after Armerind. He listened to the sloppy, unrefined sounds of Zoro eating, not in the least bit tempered by the calming roll of the ocean just past their sights. Absent-mindedly, he leaned back a little, and touched his stomach through the pink fabric of his apron. He could practically feel his ribs, and he knew that couldn't have been attractive. "Eh, I haven't eaten enough lately." He chastised himself, not really caring if Zoro heard.
"Well, I know what I'd like to do, but that's not really making YOU do something, really, except lay still."
Sanji paused, fingers still pressed against his abdomen, and looked over at Zoro curiously. "What?"
"The bet, idiot, I'm talking about the bet. Now you've got me thinking about it." He munched thoughtfully, a shrimp tail sticking out of his mouth as he looked off into the distance thoughtfully.
"Well, that's a good th—"
He spat the tail into the sand, and Sanji noticed with a bit of distaste that he'd built quite the collection. Fighting back a frown of disgust, he listened as Zoro went on. "Hey, how does it feel?"
Sanji blinked rapidly, and lifted one eyebrow again. He was getting used to that. "Pardon?"
"You know…how does it feel?" Zoro repeated suggestively, importantly, his tone explaining everything to Sanji.
"Ah," Sanji nodded, almost embarrassed that he hadn't caught his meaning at first. Foolishly shy at the topic, he looked down at the sand and traced abstract shapes with his finger as he shrugged and murmured, "you know, it's not…it's not painless or anything…feels really weird at first…you sort of get used to it. Kinda takes your breath away, feels a little like sea-sickness for a bit. Then it just feels good. After a while. And, you know, getting stimulated has been pretty easy for me, I don't know about anyone else, though…" He cleared his throat loudly, by that point blushing scarlet.
"You'd touched yourself that way before, though, right?"
The understatement to end all others would have been that Sanji was shocked by the question. "Again with the assumptions!"
Zoro shook his head and let out a tiny, subdued belch. Sanji was almost inclined to thank him for showing some relative decorum considering the topic at hand. "You masturbate like a mad-man, don't think I don't know. And you're a pretty kinky bastard, I'd figure you would have—"
"Kinky bastard?!" Sanji almost squeaked in indignation, "I put women on their backs and fuck them, that's kinky?"
Zoro shrugged, rolled his eyes, and shot Sanji a deep, knowing glare. "You're a freak, Sanji. I can sort of tell these things."
Flabbergasted, Sanji couldn't even find the presence of mind to muster up a snappy retort. Instead he just fluttered his eyes, shook his head, and squinted as he hissed, "Yes, okay? I have."
"Uh-huh," Zoro said quickly, as if he had known the entire time. Sanji felt the surging need to kick him square in the craw, but resisted, "so that means you were even less of a virgin than I am."
"Well, that goes without saying."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I was," like it was another damned competition. Sanji knew well enough to twist the topic to his advantage, "but in worldly terms, I was more experienced, not 'less of a virgin.'"
The swordsman smiled smugly, finishing off the last of what Sanji counted as his fourth helping of jambalaya. He set aside the bowl and lifted his knees, draping his arms over them as he sighed contentedly.
"Okay, I decided!" Zoro said suddenly, enthusiastic in a subtle, unnerving way. Something about that tone always suggested to Sanji that Zoro was about to say or do something very irresponsible.
"Eh?"
"Yeah, take mine." Zoro pointed at himself and smiled evilly.
"Your what?" Sanji shrugged brusquely, still bristling a bit. He was on his third cigarette since Zoro had started eating.
"My virginity, idiot."
Sanji crunched the filter firmly between his teeth, coughing to expel the smoke that had gone directly into his lungs. Zoro laughed heartily at the moment, and only continued to guffaw as Sanji tried mightily to catch his breath and stop his eyes from watering.
On instinct, he growled in accusation, flashing a look of venom as he recovered. In the time it took Zoro's laughter to wane, he still couldn't think of an adequate reply.
"I….you mean….you're serious?" Sanji pulled a face.
Zoro's expression melted into heavy eyes and a lazy smile, as he tilted his head slightly, almost shyly. "Of course I am. What, don't you want to?"
"Why would YOU want to?"
With a shrug of his shoulders, Zoro smirked dismissively. His eyelids rested as he leaned forward over his knees. "Since when do I need a reason?"
Sanji cleared his throat, and moved to light a new cigarette. But when he reached for the pack, he found it to be empty. With a soft curse, he crushed the paper in his hand and tossed it back in the direction of the camp. All the while, Zoro eyed him.
Must've been smoking like a chimney these last few days, he surmised with a sigh, I've been a little too nervous for my own good.
"Don't you have any more?" Zoro asked finally, some time after Sanji had pitched the empty pack out of sight.
"Nope, not here," Sanji shrugged, trying to act cool although the prospect of breaking the habit for a day or two caused a tingle of fright in his mind, "back on the ship, though. Not that we can go that way for a while, if Armerind has anything to do with it."
"Well, all's fair, then. It's harder to kiss you when you've got one of those things in your mouth."
Zoro glanced over at him impishly. Sanji started, clenching his shoulders and widening his eyes. "Well that's certainly a bright side," he wanted to add an invitation for Zoro to make good on that optimism, but without warning they retreated into their silence yet again.
It lasted some time, this time, as they listened to the tropical chorus of wind and water and swaying trees. Finding the upright position a little tiresome, Sanji fell onto his back, the gritty-soft cushion of sugary sand molding to his form as he snuggled in and stared up at the sky. Clouds were moving lazily through, casting shadows over the water and the beach. This is what everyone thinks about when anyone says 'paradise', he thought to himself, using the moment as a reminder of how lucky they were to have a moment or two to enjoy.
And then, he thought about what Zoro wanted him to do. Immediately, he felt his stomach shudder with butterflies, as the feeling refused to take the form of any tangible reaction in his head. He couldn't put his desire into words, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to do that wonderful thing they were planning, so teasing and coyly abortive even in their efforts to discuss it.
Even with the eagerness, even with that desire, he simply couldn't bring any images to mind. It was simple to imagine himself in any position at Zoro's mercy, but the other way around…? That was like sexual calculus, impossible to comprehend on any plane of reason and logic.
A cloud moved by, and suddenly Sanji felt the heat of the sunshine warm his body again.
"Zo-ro…" he called singsong, eyes still closed, one arm thrown over them to block the now-glaring sunlight. A nervous lilt seemed to shake his voice.
"Mm?"
"Do we even have any sunscreen here?" He was suddenly concerned about his pallor giving way to an unspeakable, untouchable lobster tint.
"Yeah," Zoro replied, a bit surprised, as if the fact had been front page news, "have you not used any at all?"
Sanji held up a hand and sighed. "Just toss it here."
A little rustling, a little shifting, and Zoro pitched a small bottle toward him. Sanji caught it in the palm of his hand; the throw had been hard enough to sting him on impact. A smile chased the instant wince, and he popped the cap of the bottle, hoping it wasn't too late for such a thing.
The sunscreen smelled the way Nami sometimes smelled when she sunbathed on the deck; like salt-air and coconut, so sweet and intense. Sanji gave a tiny moan in appreciation of the aroma as he went about lathering himself, smiling while he did.
As he sat up to reach back for his shoulders, he found Zoro watching him. It was what he expected by that point, but he was still as stunned as ever, as suddenly fired, to glimpse Zoro's body. He gulped discreetly, managed a flirtatious glance below the waist, and smiled again as he went on with his task.
"Don't forget your face." Zoro mumbled.
Sanji had been in the process of setting the bottle aside. "Oh…" he blinked, and lifted it back sheepishly, "thanks."
For as long as it took Sanji to stroke down one side of his face, paying particular attention to his no-doubt pinkish nose, Zoro watched in silence. But when he touched his forehead, almost finished, Zoro suddenly spoke up again.
"Let me get your back."
"That's okay," Sanji replied quickly, and noted the swordsman's incredulous face, "no, really, I don't plan on—"
"You really don't get out in the sun much, do you? You're practically cooked already; we'll be lucky if you're not in agony by tomorrow. Let me do it." Zoro snapped softly, already moving forward in the sand. Sanji blinked obliviously. Aside from his face, he didn't feel burnt at all.
"I haven't really gotten that much—"
Zoro sighed, and moved behind Sanji, fingers hot on his shoulders as they glanced over his back for a critical moment. "Baka, it never hurts until you're out of the sun."
There was a tone of genuine worry in Zoro's voice, and when he concentrated on that Sanji's happiness superseded the fear that by the time Nami woke up he'd be a sunburned mess. How unattractive, he lamented, and rolled his eyes.
And then, Zoro's palm whisked over his back, brushing away the sand before he applied the sunscreen. With two little grunts, he swung his legs out, and planted one on either side of Sanji from behind. Sanji smiled in spite of himself, knowing that if he wanted to be particularly mischievous he could prop his arms up on Zoro's knees, and lean into him like a throne. The prospect actually seemed quite comfortable, but at that moment, impossible.
After all, Zoro's hands were now slick with lotion, working over the expanse of his back. He bent forward a little, and stifled the soft moans of pleasure that rose instinctively at Zoro's touch. Suddenly he wondered if his apron would be coming off any time soon, but Zoro was quick to answer the question for him. When the kneading hands dipped low enough to reach the obstruction, Sanji felt Zoro's fingers wind quickly into the knotted pink bow, loosing the apron, letting the ties fall away to his sides.
Sanji smiled. "Zoro."
"Yeah?" Zoro's hands slid quickly up his sides, tickling him, and he squirmed a bit.
"Whatcha thinking?"
After a pause, Zoro placed his fingers on Sanji's shoulders. "That you have a nice body."
"Thanks."
"…how about now?" He suddenly added.
Sanji was confused. "Now, what?"
With a firm hand Zoro turned his chin, and closed his lips over Sanji's. The other arm ensnared his waist, and drew him through the sand until their bodies were flush together. The kiss deepened and Zoro's legs wrapped closer, practically hugging him.
This time, Sanji did lift his arms, draping them over the other man's legs as their tongues tangled slowly, patiently. As his back pressed against Zoro's hard chest, feeling his heartbeat and the lurch of his breath, he realized he did feel a little hotter than usual. Perhaps he had narrowly averted sunburn.
"Thanks," he smiled as they parted, and licked his lips, "for getting my back." The smell of the lotion from Zoro's fingers was clinging to the stubbly little hairs on his chin, filling his senses from every angle. His eyes must have sparkled, and Zoro must have noticed.
He pushed his fingers up through Sanji's stringy-wet hair, and rested his chin on his shoulder. "I want you," he murmured casually into his ear, "I want you now."
Briefly, Sanji wondered at nature's design, that he could waste his whole life trying, and never learn to be as alluring as Zoro was, simply by being himself. He let out a shaky breath, and inhaled slowly through his nose, picking up the scent of Zoro's sweat to mingle with the suntan lotion. He felt his body warm, felt the shivers of desire wake up inside.
"Right here?" Sanji sighed peacefully.
"Right here." Zoro replied.
"Okay."