Author's note: Those of you who read "A Distinct Lack Of Tact" back when I first posted it may recognize the setting here from that interesting little conversation between Zoro and Luffy. Not the serious one, but the bit right before it. If you're new to the CF Drabbles and haven't read that one yet, no worries. You'll just know what they're referring to when you get to that point.
Anyway, big huge gigantic warning on this one. I've been tempted to write a full-blown version ever since it was briefly mentioned in the previously-noted fic, but I realize that it might not be for everyone. If the idea of explicit, third trimester mpreg sex makes you cringe, I suggest you pass on this entry and wait for the next one, in which the Straw Hats will finally hit the Grand Line again and go visiting some more old friends, or for the next entry of that no-pairings nakama-ship thing I started posting recently.
One last thing before we get started; I'm well aware that pregnancy affects different people in different ways. It's not guaranteed to turn you into a raging nymphomaniac- in fact, some women don't want and have no interest in intimacy for the entire nine months. And even if they do, their partners might be turned off by the idea of making love with a so-called audience, despite the established fact that babies in the womb don't really have a clue what their parents are doing. Others might refuse because they're convinced they might poke the kid in the head or something equally and impossibly stupid, so they won't touch their wives or girlfriends for the whole pregnancy. Which, to me, sounds like pure torture for both parties in the relationship, but sometimes that's just the way it goes. To make a long story short, there's a lot of bizarre changes occurring internally and externally - and even mentally - that can easily heighten or hinder one's sex life.
With that being acknowledged, I'd just like to point out that Zoro and Luffy's particular responses to the whole situation occur as follows because I wanted to write them that way. Considering the obvious lack of male pregnancies and therefore the absence of decent scientific data, it's difficult to gauge just how a guy would react sexually with all this weird shit happening to his body. So, if you haven't noticed already, I'm totally flying by the seat of my pants here.
Oh yeah, and nobody prompted me with this absurdity- I just wanted to write it and figured I might as well post the results, in case there was somebody else out there who shared my weird kinks. If it makes you run screaming in the opposite direction, you're welcome to pretend it doesn't exist. And if you LIKE it... I promise I won't tell.
I think the ongoing dialogue between the guys may actually be my favorite thing about this piece. They're just both so retarded.
xxx
He digs his fingernails against the thick support at his back, shuddering at the contrast in sensations as his bare skin rubs against Adam wood that's thankfully kept too well sanded to leave splinters, and for a moment, he finds himself feeling deliriously glad that their shipwright takes such good care of Thousand Sunny before his pleasure-fogged mind abandons coherent thought in favor of resuming its previous occupation: focusing on nothing more than preventing itself from flying apart into a million smoking pieces.
Glancing down does little to help his weakening restraint. Luffy's face is hidden from view below the bulk of his belly - so close to nine months, it's just too damn big to see past anymore - but there's no mistaking the familiar and welcome touch of his captain's mouth exploring the junction of his trembling thighs, nipping delicately at responsive flesh. No, he can't see shit, but his brain's more than happy to supply a few lurid images to accompany what he's experiencing.
The swordsman's having trouble remembering how they ended up here, hidden beneath the shadows of the mikan trees clustered at the base of the main mast, him leaning heavily against its base with the younger pirate kneeling at his feet.
He dimly recalls waking from an after-dinner nap on the aquarium bar's padded bench and staggering groggily outside to find the lawn deck dark and deserted, the others having already headed to bed, and there's another vague memory of encountering Luffy as the other man emerged from the hatchway leading to their quarters, presumably having just finished tucking Ace into bed, but everything else is pretty fuzzy.
Maybe he was coming back to find me- or maybe he's supposed to be on watch. Unless I interrupted him on a kitchen raid and- hell, maybe I'M the one who's supposed to be on watch right now.
He can't think straight enough to remember, and abruptly he doesn't care.
Oh- oh fuck, whatever, I can still- I can still watch from-
In reality, he's not watching anything but the inside of his own eyelids, not with the way his lover's hand is now gently kneading and rolling his balls as a warm, wet tongue sweeps up the underside of the erection that's poking rather firmly against his stomach.
His stance should be uncomfortable; he's barefoot, feet planted just a little too far apart to properly support his weight, with his coat barely clinging to his body. It's slipped off both shoulders to hang askew around his midsection, held in place by a single fastened toggle because Luffy's undone the others and pushed the open flaps back behind his hips for easier access. He's also lost track of his trousers, which he's fairly sure that either he or his captain ripped in their haste to get him undressed. For all he knows, they could be puddled on the deck or even dangling from a nearby railing where a strong gust might blow them overboard.
He should probably go find them, because they're one of the few pairs that still fit decently after being let out so many times, but- but-
But he doesn't give a shit, doesn't care about anything but the way his lover's now nuzzling insistently against the crease between his left thigh and abdomen, fingers wrapped firmly around his length and slowly tightening until the steady caresses bring him to his toes, panting rapidly and tensing because it's too much too fast.
"W-Wait- slow down- I'm gonna-"
"Oh, wow, and I barely touched Zoro yet," the rubber man murmurs, leaning back on his heels to reveal that he's grinning widely. "Shishishi..."
"Sh-Shut up! I can't help-" He breaks off, arching against the mast with a low groan, because the hand on him's stroking faster, thumb finding and smearing the clear liquid beading heavily at his tip down over the head with each quick twist of the wrist, and it's suddenly become a battle of wills- Luffy gleefully determined to send him over the edge despite his resolve to hold back.
If I can- for j-just a little lon-
He's actually managing, barely, until his captain closes in again and applies both lips and tongue to the underside of his belly where his body's become particularly sensitive, coaxing him along with soft kisses and heavy, moistening licks while the hand massaging his groin continues unabated.
"O-Oi, don't-"
"Come for me," the Pirate King purrs encouragingly, voice muffled where his mouth's pressed against tautly stretched skin, and Zoro loses it.
The muscles in his biceps and forearms strain as he claws desperately for a more secure grip on the mast behind him, and he cries out involuntarily as his body reacts as though he's been given a direct order, balls contracting and cock pulsing forcefully as he releases short, powerful bursts of semen that spills over the younger man's pumping fist and drips to the deck between them.
He's dimly aware of his own mortifyingly loud volume but he can't control it even though he's probably quite audible to any of their crewmates not already asleep. And possibly to the watches on some of the fleet's closest vessels.
"I win," Luffy laughs delightedly, the stroking movements of his hand gradually slowing and then stopping altogether so he can slide it up his moaning, shuddering swordsman's slick thigh to caress his stomach. "Heh, Zoro's pretty noisy tonight..."
His palm leaves a wide, glistening path across the warm curve and produces another choked groan.
"Oh, does Zoro like that?"
Wheezing hard and acutely perceptive to his heart's rapid pounding - he can feel it everywhere, even in his belly and groin - the green-haired pirate doesn't bother responding to the good-natured goading, too dazed and preoccupied with fighting to keep his balance because his body wants to sag bonelessly down the mast onto the nearest flat surface. His knees feel weak, incapable of holding him upright.
Recognizing the problem, his lover bolts upright, catching hold of his elbows and pulling him closer before he's really even in danger of falling. The first mate closes his eye and leans his forehead against his captain's shoulder, draping his arms loosely around the rubber man's torso and still puffing somewhat brokenly as he struggles to catch his breath.
"You okay?" The teasing tone is gone, replaced with a note of guarded concern.
"Y-Yeah. Just- gimmie a second."
They lapse into comfortable silence, and after a while, as his heart's racing eases into a more sedate tempo, Zoro actually starts to drift off a little, perfectly content to doze as long as the younger pirate's willing to hold still- until Luffy starts rubbing slow circles on his back.
He's sure it's meant to be soothing, but it has the opposite effect: he's suddenly wide awake, slightly startled and seriously annoyed, because even though his goddamn legs only stopped trembling a short time ago and even though the dampness of his recent release hasn't yet completely dried on his skin, his pulse is speeding up again, driving away the last residual traces of euphoria and leaving him feeling empty and frustrated.
"Hmm? Ah, Zoro must be tired," his lover hums quietly, quite reasonably mistaking his growing tension for another reason entirely. The kneading fingers leave his back and move to his distended sides, rubbing more gingerly. "If he wants, we can head down and go to-"
"NO. No, I-" The swordsman raises his head, swallowing thickly, and when he licks his lips, his tongue registers the sharp salty tang of sweat. "I'm not tired."
That wasn't enough. It was good, but I- I want more.
The Straw Hat captain makes a faint, slightly puzzled noise of inquiry, leans back slightly to take a good look at his face and inhales sharply.
"Sencho-" His throat tightens, cutting short the request that nearly emerges as a plea, but he needn't even ask, judging by his captain's expression.
Luffy's staring at him, nostrils slightly flared and pupils dilated enormously in the dark. Even though the moon's quite luminous tonight, the mast and tree branches overhead are blocking most of the direct light beaming down on them, casting shadows across much of the younger pirate's face, and cold fingers dance up Zoro's vertebrae as the coiled ball of desire lurking inside his gut sends fresh tendrils of heat curling through his groin.
He looks like- that's what he looks like before a fight.
"If that's what Zoro wants." The words are spoken slowly, with infuriating caution and utter seriousness. "But- he'll also tell me if he wants me to st-?"
"Oi- I said I was fine, didn't I? So quit screwing around and-!"
It's apparently all the prompting needed; the hands that have been resting on his hips are abruptly slipping under his buttocks and lifting him clear off the deck, suddenly enough that he's left scrabbling for a good grip on his captain's shoulders even though he trusts the younger man not to drop him.
"Does Zoro have any-?"
"In my pocket."
He supposes he ought to be embarrassed, constantly toting lube around the ship with him, but it's a hell of a lot more convenient than being forced to make a dash for their room - or the kitchen - every time he's overwhelmed with the spontaneous urge to corner Luffy in some obscure location, like the observation room, where they'd once gotten side-tracked on their way upstairs to the bathhouse. Thankfully he'd still been agile enough at that point to claim topping rights, as he hadn't been quite desperate enough to earnestly consider his captain's idiotic suggestion to use Nami's mapping ink as lubricant.
However, taking advantage of the desk itself, he recalls with some smugness, had been a stroke of genius on his own part, and if the navigator had berated them both up and down for hours after finding her crumpled paperwork hastily re-piled in disordered stacks, well, it'd been more than worth it.
His pleasant reverie's disrupted as Luffy shifts, easily supporting him with one arm while his free hand rummages through the coat in search of the vial hidden within, and Zoro tightens his own grasp, heart thundering in his chest, because even though he's no light-weight thanks to the density of his muscle mass - the baby itself doesn't really weigh enough to make much of a difference - the younger pirate makes the maneuver seem fucking effortless.
Shit- even though I know what he can do, sometimes it's easy to forget just how goddamn strong Sencho is, 'cause he looks so frickin' scrawny in those baggy clothes...
Not that it's actually intimidating; the idea's laughable considering his own ridiculous strength, but the thought of all that vitality and stamina being turned on HIM - accompanied by the sudden click of his lover's thumb popping open the slim tube he's finally located - is enough to ignite a veritable bonfire that swallows the embers of lust already smouldering inside him, and he's nearly frantic with need by the time slippery fingers start probing below his perineum.
Although he's currently too galvanized to think about anything but satisfying his body's incessantly louder demands, Zoro doesn't understand why he keeps reacting like this. Some crap about hormones and increased blood flow and heightened sensitivity, according to the ship's doctor, but the swordsman thinks it's pretty ass-backwards that his libido's grown right along with the bump that's now pushing against his captain's chest as he squirms arduously in the younger man's grasp, trying to impale himself on the digit that's found the tight ring of his anus.
The reindeer claims it's all normal and natural and therefore nothing of concern, but it wasn't like this last time, when he was carrying Ace. Back then, he was too overwhelmed, too confused, too stressed out to spend much time thinking about sex. Although he certainly didn't turn down Luffy's offers of intimate nights or afternoons spent in the women's temporarily surrendered quarters- at least not after the nausea settled down, anyway.
Things changed for the worse, of course, following Impel Down. It took him a little longer than he expected to recover after Ace was born, although it surprised no one else, and even after the laparotomy incision healed, it was months until he could stand to have someone else touch him without being given fair warning first, much less feel inclined to participate in the sort of sexual gymnastics that he and Sencho used to pull before the sadistic bitch sauntered her way to center stage and turned their lives upside down.
And even though things eventually settled down on that front, they were both usually too busy changing diapers and warming bottles and dealing with an overly cranky, colicky, teething baby that quickly developed into a bright-eyed, over-adventurous toddler to get much time alone together. Zoro KNOWS he spent way more time worrying about child-proofing every damn inch of the ship and wiping snotty little noses than he did about getting laid.
That's certainly not the case now, nearly seven years later with a second kid pending; sometimes he swears he thinks about nothing BUT fucking and being fucked, even if he's now too freaking fat to do three-quarters of the shit that pops into his head. In response to his poorly-phrased queries - "what the hell's wrong with me" and "why the hell do my nuts constantly feel like they're gonna explode" - Chopper had cheerfully theorized that being multiparous - whatever THAT's supposed to mean - somehow resulted in his body slipping into some kind of weird pregnancy autopilot, apparently leaving his mind free to wander- and lapse repeatedly into persistent obsession.
Whatever the cause, the lack of control is infuriating. He expects better discipline from himself, but sometimes it's as though all his training's flown straight out the window. He'll find himself sitting at the dining hall table, fist clutching his fork and food forgotten because he's busy watching Luffy going into raptures over a particularly delicious piece of meat, feeling the crotch of his pants getting steadily tighter until he's half-convinced that he might reach out and drag the rubber man across the table in front of their crewmates. Or he'll be heading towards the bow for a late-morning nap, only to make an unceremonious beeline for one of the bathrooms beneath the foremast staircase because his brain's suddenly supplying him with a steady flow of pornographic images depicting himself and his lover making extensive and imaginative use of the seat at the helm.
His exercise routine's been severely restricted due to stringent weight limitations, so he can't obliterate his sudden unwanted urges through vigorous abuse of his barbells, and when at one point he turned to reviewing his sword techniques in hopes of finding a distraction there, he quickly abandoned that particular trial as a failure after nearly taking off his own toes with Sandai Kitetsu's razor-sharp blade. He'd been so fixated on the solidity and texture of the katana hilt grasped firmly in his hand that he'd completely blown even the simplest forms.
Maybe he's losing his mind. He MUST be if he's actually stooped to contemplating the use of one of his weapons as a sex toy, especially considering-
"O-Oi," Luffy blurts, sounding slightly disconcerted and staggering forward to brace Zoro's back more firmly against the mast because his swordsman's increasingly frantic rocking on his hand is threatening to overbalance him. "Maybe Zoro better slow down before he-"
Two fingers now, maybe three - it's kind of hard to tell with his body clenching so tightly around them - brushing fleetingly over his prostate every time he grinds his hips down but it's still not enough and his temper flares at the suggestion that he might somehow hurt himself in the process of getting off. "Damn it, Sencho- I'm not gonna break, so quit looking at me like that and FUCK ME."
His captain makes a funny little whuffing noise and the pressure inside him's suddenly gone, leaving an aching void, but he bites back the complaint before it can burst from his lips, because he can feel the hand fumbling between them as the younger pirate tears at the button securing his shorts and shoves them down.
The first attempt goes awry; they're too over-eager to really cooperate with each other, and he feels the nudging cock go sliding across his lubricant and sweat-slicked skin, right past the place where his lover's fingers have returned to spread him open. The rubber man's expression of fierce concentration wavers, going moderately pinched, and he utters a faint squeak of dismay.
Puzzled, Zoro opens his mouth to ask him just what the hell he's doing, but then he spots the telltale hint of tears in the corners of Luffy's eyes and can't restrain himself from barking breathless laughter when he realizes what's happened. "You didn't- tell me you didn't just r-ram your dick into the mast."
"Stop laughing- it hurt!" It's not quite a whine, but it's close. "It's Zoro's fault anyway- he knows I get carried away when he talks like that. And I can't see what I'm doing, 'cause his tummy's so big now."
The swordsman snorts dismissively, briefly letting go of one shoulder to tap his fingertips against the round swell of his stomach. "Which is YOUR fault, so quit bitching that I'm too fat."
"I didn't say I didn't like the way Zoro looks. 'Cause I do," Luffy retorts, discomfort evidently forgotten from the egotistical smile now curling his lips, and ducks his head to rub his nose and one side of his face against his first mate's belly. To his amusement, a small bulge forms under the skin beside his cheek as the baby either stretches or changes position. "Ah- go back to sleep. We're busy!"
Zoro eyes the offending lump warily as it melts back out of sight. He's learned to largely ignore the random movements and unpredictable kicking that sometimes occurs when it's least desired, even if he doubts he'll ever get used to something so goddamn strange as getting unexpectedly clobbered in the ribs during sex, but his captain never fails to notice. And comment.
He finds it rather disturbing.
"Oi, we gonna do this, or you wanna spend the rest of the night talking to the kid?" He asks grumpily, because even though he's a little unsettled by the reminder that they're not alone, it's still not enough to kill his interest.
It certainly hasn't dampened Luffy's ardor. If anything, the younger man's gaze is even more impassioned as he swirls his tongue around his lover's protruding belly button, eyes turned upwards so he can watch the darker flush spreading across the former Pirate Hunter's cheeks. And he's definitely recovered from his close encounter with the mast- there's no mistaking the nature of the blunt, hot flesh nudging eagerly against the swordsman's right thigh. There are, after all, certain advantages to being made of rubber. "Mmm, talk later. Zoro started this, but I guess it's up to me to finish it..."
"Idiot! I didn't mean-" The green-haired pirate struggles to formulate a response but ultimately flubs his chance to snap off a scathing remark; steady hands are shifting his weight, tilting his hips to provide a better angle of entry for the cock now pressing into the tender pucker of tissue between his spread buttocks, and he looses a humiliating groan of desperation, awkwardly thumping his captain's rump with one heel to urge him to go faster.
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there! Nngh, Zoro's gotta r-relax or I'm gonna go off before I can get it all inside- he's too tight!"
He wants to laugh, but he's having too much trouble breathing.
Relax? Just how the fuck am I supposed to-
The matter's resolved rather suddenly when a foot or fist - or maybe knee or elbow - jabs him sharply, sending all the air in his lungs rushing out in a noisy, panicked whoosh because he's afraid his bladder, which has just been squashed rather forcefully inside his pelvis, is going to let go.
While they've been more than willing to indulge each other in quite a few unconventional sexual practices over the years, watersports involving URINE sure as hell isn't one of the kinks they've been tempted to undertake, so he's vastly relieved when the heavy feeling in his lower gut recedes and he's saved THAT indignity, but the exhalation loosens his compressed muscles and Luffy abruptly sinks into him, thick and hard and far more satisfying than a few clumsily-situated fingers.
His captain's eyes instantly go from half-lidded to fully closed, his face contorting with the obvious effort of restraining himself from giving in and plunging his hips with reckless abandon, and Zoro whacks him in the rear again, a low-pitched growl of irritation pervading his voice.
"If you- STOP-"
"I don't- think I CAN," the younger pirate rasps, shooting the swordsman a slightly exasperated scowl. "-but Chopper said-"
I'm gonna kill that goddamn reindeer.
"I KNOW what Chopper said, but- ah~" He arches his back, nearly banging his head on the mast behind him, as the rubber man gives a tentative thrust. "Nngh, shit- but you don't- don't need to be THAT careful. I told you- you're not gonna hurt me."
Luffy still looks a bit skeptical, but he grudgingly scoots his lover higher to give himself more room to move. "Okay- as long as Zoro says something if I get too rough."
For the love of- COME ON. If it wasn't so uncomfortable and my fricking stomach didn't make it impossible anyway, constantly getting in the way, I'd hang your ass over Usopp's workbench over there and pound you 'til you couldn't WALK. I wanna be able to sleep tonight, and it's not gonna happen unless-
The next thrust drives his lower spine against the Adam wood, wringing a low cry from his straining vocal cords as the faint, protesting twinge in his tailbone is immediately overridden by the pleasure rippling through him at the sensation of pressure sliding roughly over hypersensitive nerves- and the place inside him that-
Again and again and again, and his heels skid in the small of Luffy's back as he endeavors helplessly to lock at least one leg around his waist.
Lower lip caught between his teeth, his captain is watching him closely, keen eyes searching his face for signs of genuine distress, and Zoro wants to tell him it's okay, to just keep going, but he can't find the right words much less speak them coherently. His mouth's overflowing with excess saliva, and if the dampness trailing down his chin's any indication, he's probably drooling on himself.
Washboard abdominal muscles are sliding against his rejuvenated erection with each stroke, crushing it back against his own groin, and he nearly chokes on his own spit at the thought that he's probably leaking badly enough to leave sticky trails of moisture on both their bodies. His skin feels too warm, too tight; it's not going to take much longer, and when it happens-
"Z-Zoro-"
"Hnnh," he replies, trying to ease his vice-like grip on the younger pirate's shoulders before his fingertips cause more damage than a few scattered bruises.
"Zoro- Zoro, I-" A pause, as Luffy tries unsuccessfully to blow his own dark hair out of his eyes. There's a heavy wash of ruddy color splashed across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and he's breathing a lot faster now, chest heaving with the effort, but his arms as well as the hands cupping the swordsman's rear remain steady. "I-I'm not- hah- not gonna last-"
S'okay- 'cause neither am I...
The demented laughter threatening to bubble out of Zoro's chest transforms into an incoherent gurgle; his lover's just boosted him again, finding the leverage necessary to plunge into him with furious, unrestrained rhythm. The position means shallower penetration, so there's less risk of unintentionally injuring him with the accelerated pace, but it also puts a direct and almost continuous assault on his prostrate.
He doesn't stand a chance. His toes splay apart, then immediately bunch together, curling, as his sphincter contracts, eliciting a sonorous groan from the younger man whose fingers are now digging into his buttocks, and he can feel his balls tensing as well, drawing up tight against his crotch. There's a moment like the calm before a storm, and he feels weightless, as though he's just taken the first step off a dauntingly high precipice.
Oh- OH-
And then the orgasm slams through him, bowing his back and making him bite the inside of his cheek to contain a ragged scream that still manages to escape as a strangled, inarticulate keening sound, and no analogy's adequate for describing the paroxysm seizing him from head to toe. It's a tidal wave crashing down and bowling him under, a flash fire that erupts in his loins and races through every nerve in his body, temporarily turning his vision dark and destroying every trace of reason in his brain as it mercilessly reduces him to shattered fragments of himself.
He's unaware that his chest, neck and face have flushed mottled pink from increased blood flow through veins already working overtime to supply his gravidity-expanded circulatory system, that although his voice has dropped in volume, he's still whimpering audibly with each consecutive spasm of his pelvic region, or that his captain's closed the distance between them and stopped moving, buried deep and throbbing inside him and gasping convulsively as he rides out his own peak.
They stay locked together for what seems like an eternity, quieting as the sweat slowly evaporates from their cooling skin, although Luffy stifles a faint hiss when he feels his softening cock slip free and the subsequent flood of warm fluid.
The younger pirate recovers first, immensely glad for the mast that's helping him support his lover's weight, because his legs have gone wobbly- like the noodles in one of Sanji's pasta dishes. He carefully lowers his arms until Zoro's feet are touching the deck, quickly readjusting his grasp when the quivering swordsman stumbles and sags against him.
"Mmm... Zoro came really, really hard, didn't he..."
There's a muffled grunt against his collarbone, and he grins happily, raising one slightly shaky hand to run his fingers through green, spiky hair. "Shishishi. I like making Zoro feel good."
"... bastard. Thought I was gonna die..."
Grin widening, he plants a kiss on his first mate's upturned temple. "Well, SOMEBODY told me he wasn't tired."
xxx
In fact, Zoro ISN'T tired. He's downright exhausted, and he can barely stay on his feet as they head for the bathhouse instead of their quarters because, as Luffy enthusiastically points out, both their lower halves are kind of slimy and apt to leave an awfully large mess on the bedsheets if they don't rinse themselves off first.
He ignores the older man's grumbled remark that he's more than ready to just fall asleep on the deck itself.
By the time he reaches the ladder leading upstairs to the changing room, the swordsman's walked into the doorframe and nearly fallen over one of the chairs bolted to the floor at the foot of Nami's survey desk before he's steered clear of the obstacles between points A and B. It's not that he doesn't know where he's going, regardless of what the shitty swirly-brow cook might claim, but rather that his balance just plain sucks.
Much to his embarrassment and Chopper's dismay - and their other crewmates' endless hilarity - he's been tripping over his own stupid feet and blundering into stationary objects for weeks now, which is another reason why he's been forced to put sword practice on hiatus until he can be sure of swinging one of the bloody things without accidentally impaling a spectator. Or hacking off his own ear or something.
Ace, of course, thinks it's a riot and is constantly pestering him to play tag in hopes of watching him smack into a nearby wall.
Little brat, he muses sleepily, prompting his captain - who's industriously scouring his back while he perches with difficulty on a stool that's entirely too close to the goddamn ground to let him get up without assistance - to peer curiously over his twitching shoulder and demand to know what he's missed.
"Nothing. Just keep doing that- my back's killing me."
"I told Zoro to tell me if I was hurting him," Luffy mumbles under his breath, sounding intensely guilty, and yelps as his first mate reaches back to grab him by the ear. "Ow, ow! I'm sorry, okay?"
"Shut up, alright? I sure as hell didn't feel it while you were doing it. Guess we BOTH got kinda carried away." Zoro mutters back, hauling the younger pirate around so he can kiss him savagely.
"Mmmph! Mmm mnnn?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He gestures lazily towards the sponge that's dripping suds on his toes. "Oi- you're not done with that, are you?"
"Hmm?"
"I didn't think so. Less talking, more scrubbing, please."
The Pirate King, scourge of the World Government and undisputed master of the Grand Line, wrinkles his nose and blows an undignified raspberry, but he goes back to work, dutifully lathering his swordsman's shoulders and upper chest until they disappear under a screen of foamy bubbles. "Jeeeeez, Zoro's so bossy when he's growing a baby."
"OI, I said PLEASE, didn't I? And don't say it like that- it makes me sound like one of Nami's fucking trees, dropping mikan all over the place. I already get enough shitty fruit jokes from that damn ero-cook."
"Well, Zoro does sorta look like he swallowed a m-"
"If you're about to say a MELON, stop right there or I'll tie your tongue to the shower faucet and turn on the hot water."
"-eat," Luffy finishes lamely, eyes averted and lips pursed. "I was gonna say meat- a really big piece of meat."
"No, you're weren't."
"Y-Yes, I was!"
"You're so full of shit." It's obvious from that idiotic demeanor that the rubber man's lying his ass off, but Zoro doesn't have the energy to follow through with his threat. The idea of crawling into bed and not emerging for a very long time is looking more and more attractive. "Oi- you missed a spot."
"Where- oh." The captain smirks and drops the bath loofa to pick at the flaking bit of residue clinging to the skin beside his lover's navel until it slides away and then runs both soapy hands over his belly, smug expression softening into a smile as he fans out his fingers to cover a wider area and leans closer. "You awake in there?"
"Nah, he's napping."
"Awww..."
"Think maybe you rocked him to sleep, Sencho."
He says it utterly deadpan, but when the younger pirate blinks up at him in surprise and some confusion, looking like a startled owl, because he normally doesn't drop those kind of jokes - not when they're discussing the kid, anyway - he starts snickering and can't stop; it must have something to do with being so worn out.
xxx
Luffy won't stop rolling around on the bathhouse floor, slapping his palms on the wet tiles and laughing hysterically, so it takes them a good forty-five minutes to finish washing up, get dressed, sluice down the Adam wood beside the mast - at Zoro's insistence, because the stuff repels moisture with a vengeance and pissed off nakama with cracked heads are the LAST thing he needs - and head below decks to their quarters and the sky's beginning to lighten overhead.
Sanji's standing on the grass outside the men's quarters, holding a cigarette that he starts to stub out when he realizes they're heading in his direction and then tucks back into the corner of his mouth, nodding, when the rubber man flails at him and points towards the hatch leading to the docking system. Zoro debates flipping a middle finger at the cook and decides it's not worth the effort.
At least he doesn't smoke the damn things inside or around me or Ace. But he sure goes through a shitload of them when he's on night-
He stumbles, recovers, waves away his captain's offer of an arm.
FUCK. How long has that curly bastard been out here? Son of a- if that asshole heard some of the noise coming out of- I'll never hear the end of it.
And then, while he's waiting impatiently for Luffy to help him down the ladder- a necessary nuisance made almost unbearable because he swears he can feel Sanji's eyes burning holes in the back of his coat: If I'm lucky, maybe he'll think it was Sencho.
Their six-year-old son is sprawled spread-eagle on his back in the center of their bed, sound asleep.
Zoro stares forlornly at the sight as he shrugs his coat off and lets it drop to the carpet, sighs, and plunks his rear down on the mattress's edge, wondering if he can somehow just nudge Ace over and collapse beside him.
"Shishi, he looks just like Zoro, doesn't he?" His partner teases, stretching out a hand to tickle the boy's stomach where his bunched shirt's exposed it- and dodges the foot that lashes out and nearly catches him in the groin. "Whoa! Acts like him too, huh?"
"Uh-huh. I'd kick you in the balls too if you tried waking me up like that," the swordsman replies, stifling a yawn as he stretches out, rotating his ankles and grimacing at the horrible popping sounds emitted by the stiff joints. He smiles, distracted from the dull ache in his feet, when Ace immediately rolls over and burrows against him. "Oi, wake up, kiddo. Bed's already a tight squeeze without four of us in it- if you don't go back to your room, somebody's gonna end up sleeping on the floor, and it's not gonna be me OR your little brother."
"-wanna stay here."
"Your pillow's gonna be lonely without you."
"... Daddy's just being silly. My pillow can't get lonely 'cause it's just a pillow."
"Says you."
"..."
"Fine- I'll just have to go keep it company since-"
A small hand shoots out and latches onto Zoro's arm, stalling his pretense of climbing back out of bed. "NO- Daddy and the baby need to stay here with me. If my pillow really does get lonely, it can come and sleep in here."
"Oh, okay. Oi, Sencho? Sorry, but it looks like me and the kids got the bed tonight, so I guess you're sleeping on the- oi, why the hell are you grinning like that?"