Kicking the door shut behind him, Zoro tosses Luffy unceremoniously into his bunk and shakes bits of lawn from his grass-stained pants before he hauls them back on, much to the captain's disappointment as evident by his pouting face.

"Give me a little warning next time you feel like giving the entire ship a show," the swordsman grumbles halfheartedly, flopping onto the nearest sofa and tucking his arms behind his head. "We can make an announcement with the megaphone. Post fliers on the foremast."

Luffy scrambles to the floor and leans over the sofa's back, resting his chin on his arms as he peers down at Zoro, his eyes straying to the tented material in the taller pirate's lap. He can't help grinning gleefully, even though it earns him a more intense scowl. "Nami's probably mad about the grass."

"Probably add more interest to my debt."

They stare at each other for a moment, the heat in Luffy's eyes leaving the swordsman feeling awkward again now that his adrenaline's died down, and then Zoro releases an annoyed huff at the expectant expression on his captain's face and reaches up to drag him down over the back of the sofa. "C'mere."

Draping himself over the swordsman like a snug if rather rubbery blanket, Luffy hums happily at the arm that wraps cautiously around him, nuzzles his cheek against Zoro's chest and promptly starts snoring.

"What the-"

Zoro gives the top of Luffy's head an exasperated eye roll and settles back, resting his shoulders against the sofa arm. Although he made light of it to Chopper, he's been sleeping poorly since the first night back on the Sunny, too aware of Luffy's presence across the room and too uncertain of his reception to go join him. Apparently his captain hasn't been getting much rest either.

He figures Nami's right; they have both been idiots about this whole thing.

Although now that they've actually breached the distance and especially since there's a warm body sprawled enticingly on his, the swordsman's wide awake and more than a little irritated that Luffy dropped off so fast.

The sofa seems a lot more cramped than he remembers, and he wonders if he can persuade Nami to invest in a futon or possibly some supplies for building a larger double-wide bunk. While Franky's done a terrific job ensuring that Thousand Sunny's ready to sail since they've all returned to Sabaody, the shipwright's been a bit more concerned with verifying that the coating went well than redesigning the men's quarters, and rightfully so since no one wants to drown on the way to Fishman Island.

He immediately wonders if he's getting ahead of himself, thinking about futons and double-bunks.

Luffy stirs, mumbling incoherently and tightening his grip on the swordsman's torso, almost as though he's unconsciously responding to Zoro's darker thoughts. It's actually a little eerie how easily the captain reads him, he decides as he gently removes the straw hat and transfers it carefully to the tabletop.

He runs his fingers through the younger man's black hair, smoothing the tousled locks, and Luffy slowly relaxes again, his breathing deepening and then going raspy as his faint snoring resumes. The captain's firm grip on his ribcage also eases, until his arm slides off Zoro's chest and hangs off the sofa, knuckles brushing the floor. His limb's weight pulls him slightly to the side, exposing the huge starburst patterned scar on his chest.

Pausing with his fingers still tangled in Luffy's hair, Zoro stares at the healed wound, aware that his heart's pounding a little faster. He still remembers the shock he felt earlier on seeing that shallow crater for the first time, when a Luffy bursting with excitement over their reunion tackled him to the Sunny's deck. Probably, he muses, the same shock the captain felt on first glimpsing his scarred face, although Luffy hide it well.

A little too well, judging by the awkwardness of the past few days.

He's still not quite sure how those initial stirrings of discomfort spiraled out of control so quickly, leaving them both short on sleep and irritable. He certainly didn't expect to find it easy, picking up a relationship that'd been put forcibly on hold for two years, but he wasn't quite prepared for Luffy's hesitation or the strange thoughtful looks he found fixed on him when they sat down to dinner.

He couldn't concentrate on eating with Luffy staring at his closed eyelid, so he started taking his food outside and then skipping meals altogether when the strain between them grew so strong that he found himself silently edging out of rooms when the captain walked in and taking far too many evening watch shifts. Camping out in the watch tower was easier than spending a night feigning sleep while his captain's eyes burned metaphorical holes into his back, even if his training room held too many painful memories.

Abusing his weights at all hours gave him a different focus at least, and he stubbornly ignored complaints from the irritated crew members that his clanging and banging kept from sleep, drank too much and practiced his new one-eyed glare on anyone who questioned what the hell he thought he was doing.

The missing eye doesn't really bother him personally, at least most of the time, and he's firmly rebuffed his crew mates' avid curiosity - sometimes politely but most times not - since he rejoined them because it doesn't matter how he lost a portion of his sight. It happened, he's dealt with it, and it's not like scars on his body are anything new. He sometimes thinks there's not a square inch of unmarked skin to be found, although all but his most severe injuries tend to heal into faint lines so thin that they're barely perceptible.

The massive scar on Luffy's chest is another story. It agitates the swordsman, even though he's lost track of how many serious injuries Luffy's sustained during their travels thanks to the captain's propensity for putting himself in situations that result in blood loss and bruises.

None of those fights, not even the initial debacle with Crocodile that ended with a goddamn hook impaled through Luffy's torso, managed to leave scars. Thanks to his bizarre rubber constitution and somehow aided by the consumption of impossible quantities of food - particularly meat, always more meat, please - the gaping wounds always healed and faded completely.

Zoro finds himself incapable of even imagining the attack that actually left a permanent trace, and such a large one, at that. Although he knows some of what happened at Marineford, the newspapers - which he always snapped up as soon as Mihawk discarded them - were frustratingly vague. The master swordsman acknowledged meeting Luffy on the battlefield but refused to provide any details, other than assuring his furious apprentice that the rubber man had escaped him relatively unscathed.

He then proceeded to take full advantage of Zoro's distraction, following up the rather one-sided fight by treating the humiliated and bleeding swordsman to a scathing rebuke about allowing news of his absent lover to weaken him. When he demanded to hear how the hell Mihawk even knew about the exact nature of his relationship with Luffy, a gleeful Perona had happily informed him that she'd not only heard him talking in his sleep but had also been spying on him in the shower, which had been - up until that point - the only place he'd felt secure enough to jack off.

Zoro traces the starburst with a fingertip, very gently to avoid disturbing his sleeping captain. The scarred skin feels rough, almost leathery, and he abruptly wonders what sort of texture it might have under his tongue, remembering how smooth the shower tiles felt against his cheek as he panted under the hot spray and struggled to keep his voice under control when he finally came with Luffy's name on his lips.

Luffy drowsily opens his eyes, disturbed by the arm unconsciously tightening around his waist and pulling him more firmly against the swordsman's body. He wriggles as he recognizes the hard heat nudging against his lower belly. "Eh? Zoro?"

"Ah, sorry," Zoro mutters, pointedly looking away since he can't hide the flush spreading across his face. His erection betrays him and twitches again inquiringly, bringing more color to his cheeks when Luffy's lips immediately curl in a sly smile. "I was trying not to wake you."

His captain laughs and wraps both arms around his neck, hauling him in for a sloppy but enthusiastic kiss before he can pull away. "Zoro's blushing!"

"Shut up," the swordsman grumbles, albeit halfheartedly because now there's a leg hooked around his middle, pressing their bodies tightly together from chest to groin. When Zoro drags himself upright on the sofa, Luffy squeezes the other leg around him and balances on his lap facing him.

His captain's laughter quiets, and there's that unreadable expression on his face again as he leans back a bit and brings his hand up to cup Zoro's cheek, rubbing his thumb lightly over the swordsman's closed upper eyelid. The thin line of scar tissue feels like a hard, raised seam. "Does it feel weird when I touch it?"

"Can't really feel anything right there," Zoro admits. He covers Luffy's hand with his own, shifting the stroking thumb a few centimeters to the outer corner of his eye. "I feel that. Doesn't hurt, but the damn thing itches sometimes."

He's rejected the idea of an eye patch, partly because Perona insisted it would look adorable and partly because it would look utterly ridiculous combined with his bandana and he doesn't want that much fabric flapping around in his face during a fight. Although he might reconsider if Luffy suggests it; while he's had absolutely no interest in looking cute - the very word makes him want to gag - for that obnoxious ghost girl, he doesn't think he'd mind looking... charming might be a good word but forget cute, fuck cute - he wouldn't mind looking charming for his captain.

Although god only knows what kind of crap he'd have to put up with from that shitty-

Luffy's hand moves away, catching and twining fingers with his, and the swordsman utters a muffled erk of surprise as his captain closes in and presses pliant lips to his face. He flinches as wet heat passes over his closed eye; he's being licked from cheek to brow, and unlike the earlier probing, that does feel fucking weird.

When he automatically resists, protesting that he's not one of the ero-cook's dishes, the fingers gripping his tighten and pin his hand against the back of the sofa. Luffy is definitely stronger than he remembers and quickly secures the other wrist as well before it can fend him off. The younger pirate leans in, his breath warm as his tongue flickers out again.

"O-Oi-" Zoro stammers uncertainly, straining the muscles in his forearms as he struggles to free himself to no avail; the other man's position gives him better leverage and the swordsman will die before admitting it, but the fixed expression of concern on Luffy's face is freaking him out. It's the same one that's sent him slinking from the room more than once, but now he's pinned firmly to the sofa, making escape impossible.

"Just hold still," he's told with all the emphasis of a direct order, and the swordsman's stunned enough to find himself obeying, because Luffy's rarely ever bothered exercising his authority in the past, unless it involved food or exploring new islands, but now he sounds utterly serious. The tongue exploring Zoro's closed eyelid unnerves him, and he's glad when Luffy exchanges licks for kisses, planting a moist trail down his jaw.

"Luffy?" he asks cautiously, and his captain answers by sealing their mouths together in a fierce lip-lock that makes his earlier kiss pale in comparison. Startled, Zoro jolts against his pinned limbs before he's crushed back against the sofa. He's slow to respond, his head reeling as Luffy's naked body rubs against him, cock stirring quickly to prod firmly and insistently at his abdomen.

An insistent tongue tip forces its way between his lips when he doesn't comply quickly enough. Luffy's slick mouth tastes of meat and tangy spices, like the lunch Zoro missed earlier this afternoon, and the swordsman's empty stomach utters an audible whining rumble. He's too distracted to pay much mind to his gut because his clothed erection, caught firmly between the ass cheeks grinding against his lap, is throbbing almost painfully, but Luffy snickers in amusement and redoubles his efforts.

The kiss - powered by two years of frustration and unrequited lust - goes on forever, and Zoro eventually starts running out of air. He's forgotten to breathe through his nose because Luffy's abruptly changed angles and added an extra excited wiggle to his rocking and grinding, the movement nearly forceful enough to press the tip of the swordsman's cock into his body despite the fabric layer between their bodies.

Zoro grunts and struggles to buck his hips - frustrated as hell because his goddamn trousers prevent any actual penetration and he wants them gone, immediately - but his captain shows no signs of backing off or relinquishing his mouth, even when he starts making muffled protests and squirming fitfully, and it's a long time before those insistent lips leave his.

When Luffy finally pulls away, releasing the swordsman's wrists, he leans back on his heels and wipes saliva from his chin. He looks immensely satisfied as he watches Zoro struggle to catch his breath, jaw hanging open and chest heaving. His freed hands rest palms-up at his sides, as though he doesn't have the strength to lift them, and his face is downright blazing with color, his pupil dilated hugely.

"I don't wanna wait anymore. I want Zoro - right now," Luffy tells him, grinning delightedly when Zoro shivers and swallows thickly at his words. The captain is abruptly compelled to seize his swordsman's bobbing adam's apple in his mouth, and because he's never been particularly good at restraining his impulses, he does it without another thought, leaning forward and digging his teeth against the taut skin hard enough to leave his mark.

Zoro curses and cuffs him hard enough that they tumble off the sofa into the table dugout. Luffy bangs his head forcefully against the table leg on the way down, but he's now laughing too hard to care, and they roll around on the floor, exchanging blows and bites and stealing kisses and both feeling immensely relieved to be touching each other again.

But when the older pirate, blood thundering in his temples, reaches for his captain's erection, he's stonewalled.

"C'mon, damn it," Zoro protests when his groping hand's batted insistently away for the third time, earning him a glare and a pinched nipple from Luffy, who dismisses the swordsman's complaints - which are suspiciously like whining, although they're both resolutely pretending that neither of them notices.

"I'm gonna do Zoro," Luffy insists as he pushes the larger man down on his back and quickly divests him of pants, kicking them out from under the table.

Zoro props himself up on his elbows to watch, tensing as Luffy grasps his exposed cock and leans forward, clearly intending to stuff it in his mouth with the same enthusiasm that he uses when inhaling drumsticks, bones and all. "Shit, I should've known you'd still be so fucking rough! If you bite me, I'm gonna throw you overboard."

Scowling as though he's insulted by the implication, Luffy hovers over him with his open mouth poised but out of reach, and glares up the swordsman's body until Zoro growls at him and tries to rock his hips upwards. The captain's firm grip around his cock's base prevents him from reaching his goal, although feeling a hand other than his own after two years of awkward, secretive masturbation is fucking wonderful.

"Bastard," he hisses, clenching his fists but restraining the temptation to actually swing one because those fingers are slowly tightening on his flesh. "Quit teasing me!"

"I've been waiting just as long as Zoro," Luffy grumbles and suddenly lunges forward, engulfing the swordsman's straining cock in his mouth and producing noisy slurping sounds as he attacks with a swirling tongue. He applies just a grazing hint of teeth as he works his mouth up and down the shaft, and Zoro's elbows give out. The swordsman drops flat on his back with a low groan, fingers clawing into the floorboards beneath him.

Luffy gives blowjobs just like he fights and eats - playfully sloppy, with a whole lot of very interesting improvising.

The overwhelmed swordsman's squeezing his eyes tightly closed and doesn't see Luffy struggling to open a container without actually looking at it as he continues his onslaught, so the cool liquid suddenly dripping down his balls and pooling under his ass is a complete and very startling surprise. Zoro bolts upright on his hands and narrowly avoids slamming his head into the table's underside, gasping, "What the hell?"

Luffy sputters when the cock in his mouth nearly chokes him, jerking his head back and leaving Zoro's flesh wet with saliva.

"Cooking oil," the captain explains cheerfully, tossing the empty flask onto the swordsman's chest. "See, I didn't forget!"

He's been planning this, Zoro realizes, ever since things started getting weird between them and possibly even before then. Although they apparently both forgot to add lube to their Sabaody shopping lists, so Luffy's resorted to pinching supplies from the kitchen again, a thought that brings back quite a few entertaining memories.

"Ero-cook's gonna be pissed you're stealing his stuff again," he warns, reaching down to pick up the vial for a closer look and promptly crushing it in his fist when a warm, wet mouth reclaims him and oil-slicked fingers start skating over the sensitive flesh under his balls. Impatient elbows nudge the swordsman's thighs further apart, giving Luffy the access he needs to trace small, teasing circles around the puckered entrance under the pad of his thumb.

"D-Damn it, Luffy, can't you-" His request for his captain to go just a bit slower is interrupted by the click and creak of the door opening into the men's quarters, and he freezes. Luffy's eyes go towards the door, but he refuses to let go or even stop sucking when Zoro recovers enough to start pushing him away.

"Oi, where the hell are you shitty perverts?"

There's a brief scuffle under the table as Zoro starts yanking on Luffy's ear and lets go quickly, swearing profusely, when teeth rake him a little too roughly. They glare at each other, nostrils flaring.

Sanji nonchalantly kicks Zoro's wrinkled pants across the floor as he approaches the table, and the swordsman bristles at seeing the cook's disregard for his personal property. Only Luffy's firm grasp on his cock keeps him from exploding out from under the table.

"Sorry to interrupt you-" Sanji drawls, his tone absolutely insincere as he leans over and grinds out his cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the table. "-but dinner will be ready in an hour. If you want to eat, I suggest you be there. Not that I give a shit."

"Then go away," Zoro grumbles, his temper overriding the distraction of Luffy's mouth.

"Oh, so you actually are under there. Such a rather appropriate location for a marimo, rolling around under a table."

"Fuck off and get out."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sanji sits down on the table's edge and sighs loudly. "I told Nami-san that you could go find your own food, but she insisted that I find and bring you to the dining hall to make sure you both eat."

Zoro seriously contemplates punching the cook's legs, which look as though they might be just within reach, but his murderous thoughts are interrupted by Luffy, who is trying to express his utter distress at being excluded from dinner. Of course, he's trying to talk with his lips still wrapped the swordsman's cock, and he doesn't share Zoro's unique ability to speak with his mouth full, so his protests come out muffled and unintelligible.

"-the hell?" Sanji demands, hopping off the table and backing away a few steps. To Zoro's glee, he nearly trips over the dirty laundry heap that's been steadily accumulating since the day they returned to the ship.

"Didn't you STOP when I came in?"

"O-Oi, Luffy, isn't Nami always telling you not to talk with your mouth full?" Zoro asks, grinning evilly at the captain sprawled between his thighs, and of course Luffy starts laughing, because it's usually Franky and Brook who tell the dirty jokes. The swordsman's forced to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning loudly at the interesting vibrations that quiver through his lower body.

"Shit, I did not need that mental imagery. I'll tell Nami that you're… on your way." The cook heads for the door, clawing at his shirt pocket for another cigarette.

Zoro smirks as he watches the black clad feet retreat, pleased to have gotten the last word. "Yeah, tell her that we're co-"

Luffy, master of bad timing, chooses this rather inopportune moment to sink not one but two fingers into him, curling them sharply, and the swordsman makes a desperate keening noise that sends Sanji scurrying out the door and slamming it behind him, accompanied by excessive cursing and violent threats that he doesn't intend to follow through with because executing them involves actual physical contact and the cook would also like to escape with his retinas intact.

"Shit, Luffy!" Zoro growls, wriggling away from the snickering rubber man so he can struggle out from under the table. He barely makes it to the sofa before Luffy lunges forward and catches him, pulling both wrists behind his back and leaning forward to plant kisses punctuated by small delicate bites up his spine.

When he struggles, he's pushed down chest-first on the sofa with his knees on the floor, his protests muffled against the cushions. Panting breaths caress his shoulder as his captain fumbles eagerly between their bodies, his fingers shaking too badly to cooperate as he tries to align himself, and Zoro fights to get his face out of the padding so he can get enough air in his lungs to demand that Luffy stop screwing around and get to it already, before one or possibly both of them go off prematurely.

Luffy nips his shoulder sharply in response, prompting another string of curses that's abruptly cut off when he finally succeeds in lodging the tip of his cock in place and starts pressing his hips forward. The swordsman groans, jaw clenching as he presses back to help drive his captain deeper despite the slow burning sensation that his tensed muscles earn him.

He knows he could relax, make his lover's entrance easier on them both, but he wants to savor the sensation of his body slowly stretching and being filled, and they're both panting harshly by the time Luffy's fully buried, his chest and stomach molded tightly to Zoro's back. The younger pirate buries his sweaty face against the warm skin under his nose and whimpers, digging his fingernails into the swordsman's hips hard enough to leave small white crescents.

"Oh, oh fuck-" Zoro wheezes breathlessly against the sofa's back, grunting as his captain's hand scrapes down to give his aching cock an encouraging squeeze. The other hand squeezes between his ribcage and the sofa, splaying across his chest and pulling his torso upright, arms trapped against his sides, as Luffy leans back slightly.

"T-Tight," he gasps breathlessly, not quite daring to move yet because the throbbing heat surrounding him feels so good that he's not sure he'll be able to hold back. He concentrates on the rapid heartbeat under his palm, tilting his head to rub his cheek against Zoro's back, and slides his hand back up the swordsman's belly, his fingertips tracing the ridge of scar tissue from hip to chest.

He listens as Zoro forces his breathing to slow, his lungs performing a carefully controlled inhale-exhale under Luffy's ear as he utilizes some sort of meditative technique to calm himself, and realizes that his swordsman learned this discipline from the same man who left the scar that he's now exploring. The same man who also left him with only one eye.

He's suddenly inexplicably angry with the swordsman pinned against his body and bitterly jealous of Mihawk; the same conflicting emotions he's been struggling with since Zoro strolled onto the Sunny and refused to offer anyone an excuse for his missing eye. Every time he looked across the dinner table, Luffy's gaze had been irresistibly drawn to his nakama's face as he wondered why the hell one scar wasn't enough. He hates looking at what he considers Mihawk's sigil, on HIS swordsman.

"Don't lose again," he mutters against Zoro's skin, dragging his nails across the scar tissue beneath them as he shifts back, immensely pleased when the movement earns him a gasp of protest as he starts pulling his cock free from where it's impaled in the swordsman's body.

"W-Wha-?"

The confusion evident in that voice annoys him; Zoro's been oblivious to the real problem - it's not the missing eye that renders his captain's blood boiling. His swordsman could be missing an arm, hell, even both arms and both legs, and Luffy wouldn't look at him any differently. It's knowing who dealt the blow that infuriates him.

He knows that people looking at the older pirate for the first time tend to notice the scars before anything else, and he's never liked that much, because they're just a small part of the whole Zoro package. His swordsman's not just the psychotic ex-bounty hunter that everybody else seems to see. And after two years, even their own nakama's eyes were drawn to the new scar before anything else - and Sanji called Zoro a shitty pain junky and Nami called him a testosterone-blinded idiot, and he's positive they were all thinking about Mihawk again.

It always goes back to that bastard, and Luffy can't help thinking that it's like Mihawk keeps engraving his goddamn name in Zoro's skin - veni, vidi, vici, try again harder next time - and after the insanity and despair of Marineford, where Luffy learned that sometimes all your hopes crash and burn regardless of your efforts and heroes die, people you hold dear die and there's nothing you can do about it - he wants to scrawl his own name on the swordsman, make his own mark. This is mine and I'll die, I'll even kill, to protect what I love, so don't touch.

But he swore a long time ago to never interfere with Zoro's goals and he'll never break that promise, even if it means standing aside while his lover issues the thousandth challenge, so he's neatly trapped.

Luffy can't articulate much of this into actual thoughts and most of it occurs subconsciously, in a matter of moments as he lifts his head and stares down at the droplets of sweat collecting in the fine green hair on the nape of Zoro's neck. He knows he feels angry and that Mihawk is an asshole for trying to steal his swordsman, but the rest of it makes little to no sense. While he usually shrugs and moves on to something else, this particular mystery's got a sharp set of teeth hooked into him and that pisses him off.

"I don't want that Hawk Eyes guy cutting up Zoro again!" Luffy snaps, his anger lending him the control he needs to move without accidentally sending himself over the edge. He slams his hips forward, his last coherent thought that he wants to make Zoro writhe and scream his name, because for all his haughty demeanor and excellent swordplay and his stupid plumed hat, Mihawk's never been able to claim his swordsman in this way at least.

Slammed against the sofa by the force behind the thrust, Zoro is so startled by the unconcealed jealousy in his captain's voice that he chokes on the cry of protest emerging from his throat, more tears beading in the corners of his eye. He's given no time to recover before Luffy lays into him, crushing him flat on the cushions and trapping his hands behind his back in an unbreakable arm-lock.

His spine screeches in protest, echoed by an ominous creaking from the sofa beneath him as he's driven into rough and fast. A disconnected corner of his mind observes that even though the ship's furniture is bolted to the floor, Luffy's fucking him hard enough that the whole thing might break loose and tip over backwards anyway, and if the sex doesn't kill him, their shipwright might.

This is immediately followed by the thought that he'll die happy anyway, if his captain will just-

Luffy abruptly releases his pinned arms, hands dropping from his chest to grab his hips with bruising strength as the younger pirate finds a new angle that puts his pounding cock exactly where Zoro wants it and traps the swordsman's erection against the sofa. He's gripping the cushions with white-knuckled fingers before he even realizes his hands are free, the friction from both sides driving all thought from his mind, and he's far too distracted by the sparks sizzling through his vision to hear the small gasping cries escaping his own mouth.

Sliding both hands forward to rake nails across Zoro's inner thighs, Luffy tugs the swordsman tighter against him. It gives him less room to maneuver, forcing his thrusts to shorten until he's rocking his hips instead of plunging wildly, although he's still putting punishing force into his movements. His thumbs accidentally graze the rigid flesh jutting between them and then again deliberately when he discovers that his touch prompts needy eager whimpering - the older pirate is actually whimpering - and Luffy feels a bubble of excitement rising in his chest.

"Zoro~" he croons in the shuddering swordsman's ear, stretching forward to catch dangling gold earrings between his teeth. Shifting his knees wider, he leans back on the balls of his feet to brace himself, freeing one hand to pull Zoro's torso off the sofa until he's pressed firmly against Luffy's chest.

His breathing quick and shallow, because he's now off-balance, supported only by his captain's body at his back, and it's making him feel even more vulnerable than being squashed flat on his stomach, the swordsman whines as his captain's tongue and lips toy with his earlobe, clicking the metal droplets together. Luffy's fingertips leave a trail of fire down the underside of his cock, but when he reaches down to grasp himself, there's a sharp warning nip applied to the curve of his ear.

Zoro wants to sob when the fingers retreat to catch his questing hand.

"Zoro needs to beat that guy, cause I need the strongest swordsman in the world," Luffy purrs, punctuating each word with a twisting nudge of his hips as he twines their fingers and presses down so their cupped palms encircle the head of his lover's shaft. He flicks his thumb across Zoro's tip, smearing the beads of moisture leaking from it, and the swordsman bucks into their joint grip with a loud mewling sound, his fingers convulsing tighter and his free hand flailing to grab the edge of the sofa.

His arching body buys Luffy a bit more room, and he takes advantage of it, lengthening his thrusts until he's nearly pulling out each time he draws back. The older pirate's trembling violently, incapable of restraining the choked moans that escape his parted lips, and he's apparently forgotten how to work his fingers, because he's letting Luffy guide their hands up and down his erection.

Licking wetly behind Zoro's ear and grazing the side of his neck with a love bite barely restrained from drawing blood, the captain decides he's through playing around. He can't hold out much longer anyway, not while listening to the desperate noises escaping his swordsman and the audible slap and slide of sweat and oil-drenched flesh.

"Zoro~"

He slides searching fingers across the broad chest under his hand, brushing past the dipped furrow of Zoro's scar until he finds a pebbled nipple. He rolls it under his thumb, tweaks and tugs as he nuzzles his chin against the swordsman's shoulder, coaxing and cajoling his body towards release.

"L-Luffy, I'm-"

He's not sure what possesses him. He can't remember ever saying it before, and it's what Mihawk calls his swordsman, so maybe he's jealous and wants to put his own claim in. Or maybe he just wants to try it out and hear how it sounds. It doesn't really matter.

"Roronoa," he breathes as his hands caress and stroke and squeeze. "Roronoa Zoro..."

A low shuddering cry answers him, and he can feel Zoro tensing, against his chest, in his hand, around his cock, so he says it again. "Roronoa Zoro's mine."

"Oh god-"

Zoro convulses in his grasp, back bowing as he careens into orgasm, and his body clenches down so forcefully that Luffy's teeth clamp down on his shoulder. Unlike his previous bites, this one breaks skin and draws blood, but the swordsman's barely aware of it because he's coming hard enough for black spots to swim in his vision, and he howls his captain's name as his cock pulses and spills between their fingers.

xxx

In the women's quarters upstairs, Nami jumps and knocks a glass bottle of perfume off the vanity she shares with Robin, which shatters when it hits the floor. The liquid inside quickly soaks through the floorboards, and the guys will complain for weeks about the flowery scent seeping through the ceiling.

xxx

Franky, who's already making repairs to the damaged lawn deck with the fussy precision of a mother hen, nearly leaps out of his skin. "What the-!"

"Ah, good; isn't it wonderful that our nakama are finally getting along again?" Robin asks him, smiling, as she sprouts helping hands to catch the bag he's dropped before the grass seed spills.

xxx

Zoro's knees don't want to hold him upright, even kneeling, and he sags in his captain's grasp, panting heavily. His heart feels like it's throwing itself around his ribcage in an attempt to escape, and he's slightly alarmed when the hazy aftereffects smothering his brain clear enough for him to register that there's still a hard cock buried in him, because Luffy hasn't come yet.

He's already sore and exhausted, moisture dripping down his chest where a couple of stray spurts caught him, and he has the sneaking suspicion that he might just pass out if his overworked body doesn't get a break. He tenses when the younger pirate shifts, wondering if Luffy really does intend to fuck him unconscious, but to his surprise, his captain carefully slides free. He gropes for the sofa with a shaking hand and leans against it.

It takes every ounce of Luffy's willpower to pull out of Zoro's body and lurch to his feet, standing over the slumping swordsman and reaching down to stroke himself over the edge. The orgasm slams through his body like a rampaging sea train, and he bites his lower lip, forcing his eyelids to stay open even though his eyes want to roll back in his head. He wants to see this.

His cock twitches in his grasp, warmth bursting past his knuckles to paint the still trembling body of the swordsman beneath him. Zoro's eye is partly closed, but it flies wide open when the first spurt splatters the back of his neck, and he turns his head to watch over his shoulder, cheek mashed against the sofa.

He doesn't quite get it, but from the way the rubber man's eyeing him, with a flushed face and half-lidded dark eyes, he suspects that his captain's pretty turned on by what he's doing, and if he wasn't so damn tired and his body was actually cooperating, he might actually turn over and let Luffy hit him on the stomach a time or two, just to see his reaction. Sure, it's probably a little weird, but eh, whatever.

Considering how much time he's spent covered in his own blood, this is just another bodily fluid. He's more interested in whether this was one of those spur-of-the-moment things his captain's notorious for or something that he's been turning over in his mysteriously-functioning mind for a while now, because Luffy's actually so intrigued that he's not talking or laughing, which is far stranger than what he actually is doing.

Either way, as he plies his dripping cock and stares fixedly at the wet patches he's creating on the Zoro's skin, he's curling his toes - as though he's fighting the impulse to bounce up and down - which has always been a dead giveaway that he's extremely pleased with himself. When he finally winds down and decides he's finished, he drops onto the sofa and lays there panting heavily, his knee bumping against the swordsman's shoulder.

They're both silent for a while, catching their breath, but it's a comfortable silence. Eventually Zoro struggles into a sitting position with the sofa at his back, wincing and hoping no one's going to notice him walking funny for the next day or so - possibly longer if the ache in his posterior is any indication. He glares over at Luffy. "My ass is killing me, and you made a fucking mess."

Grinning, because the older pirate's ire distinctly lacks any force when there's ejaculate dripping from his earrings and trickling down his front and back, Luffy slides off the sofa into his lap and pokes a finger against his chest. "Mine."

Whatever odd urge was griping the captain is apparently gone, although there's no mistaking that he's thoroughly laid his claim. The swordsman supposes he ought to count himself lucky when he considers that dogs and cats piss on things to mark their territory.

"Tch," Zoro grimaces, peering around for something to wipe himself off. "Yeah, yours. All over me."

"Shishishishi."

Part of the laundry heap is within reach around the sofa, and Zoro snags what he's pretty sure is one of the cook's t-shirts, smirking as he uses it to mop up some of the mess. It doesn't help much; he seriously needs a visit to the bathhouse before they hit the galley for dinner.

Pain flares in his shoulder when the fabric brushes broken skin, and he remembers belatedly that Luffy bit him pretty damn hard. Sure enough, his fingers come away bloody.

His captain's watching him closely, but he doesn't offer an apology or look the least bit sorry.

"Chopper's not going to be happy."

"Don't care," Luffy hums contentedly. He reaches up to trace the ring of teeth marks, mouth contorting into a very smug grin. "I made Zoro make a lot of noise..."

The swordsman grumbles and cuffs him, but he doesn't bother arguing because he's well aware that he probably sounded like a goddamn girl thanks to all his whimpering and panting and moaning, particularly near the end. He couldn't help it though, not with some of the shit Luffy was doing to him, scrambling all his pain and pleasure sensors, which have always been a bit screwy to begin with - and especially not with that last bit. Whatever prompted him to-?

Zoro doesn't think he's ever heard his captain call anybody by their full name, nakama or otherwise. Hell, most people are lucky if Luffy even manages to remember part of their name and doesn't just keep referring to them with some stupid nickname. But he never uses full names, not for anyone.

Hearing his own spoken like that, low and urgent and demanding...

"Don't look so proud of yourself, asshole," he mutters, leaning his head back against the cushion and closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness sweeps through him.

"Zoro?"

He doesn't realize that he's blacked out, he's actually fucking fainted, until he comes to with his captain patting his cheeks, bemused face peering down into his. The older pirate captures and pushes the hands down before they get carried away and stick a finger up his nose or poke him in the eye, but he doesn't let go, clasping Luffy's fingers with his own as he traps them against his own chest.

"Food~," his captain insists, squeezing back, and Zoro realizes he's right. The swordsman's been running on nothing more than booze for the last few days; he's reasonably sure the last time he went this long without food or decent sleep, he was tied to a post and being asked to join a pirate crew by the same man who's just bounded out of his lap and is now tugging insistently on his arm.

Add rough sex to the mix and it's no wonder he feels like he's been stomped on by a sea king.

It's weird, he thinks as he lets Luffy drag him upright, how certain stuff doesn't hurt that much while you're doing it, burning too brightly with lust and too caught up in the moment to really notice, but then your body starts screaming bloody murder as soon as your adrenaline dies down. Yet another reason why fucking and fighting often feel so much alike.

He's on his feet, wobbling slightly but determined not to fall on his ass and staring down at his rumpled, grass-stained trousers, wondering if he's going to be able to bend down and pick them up without his spine dislocating, when a peculiar fragrance tickles his olfactory system. "Gah, what reeks?"

"He who smelt it, dealt it," his captain states seriously, quoting that stupid catch phrase he learned from Usopp.

Zoro smacks him. "I'm not talking about farts, you idiot! It smells like that time the shit cook bought all those goddamn flowers for Robin's birthday."

Roses, all over the ship, and he'd been picking thorns out of his feet for days even after Nami demanded that Sanji get rid of them so Chopper would stop skulking around with his hooves over his nose.

He wrinkles his own, ignoring Luffy's whining as the younger pirate rubs his bruised skull. "Forget it. Let's go get washed up before that curly-brow bastard decides he's not feeding us."

"Food!"

"Oi, get back here and put some frickin' clothes on!"