Luffy and Zoro celebrate their reunion following the debacle that occurred at Sabaody two years ago...

Notes: This is the direct sequel to Ware Sharks When Sailing Deep, which I received as a birthday fic from the lovely and talented drcalvin. It's available on her LJ; so GO READ IT. She was also kind enough to assist me with smoothing out some transitions, as well as suggesting the title.

While this fic doesn't quite fit into the Encounters universe (because Luffy and Zoro weren't an established couple immediately from the beginning in Ware Sharks), it fits the general concept of captain and swordsman causing chaos wherever they go. Also, you can now find me on AO3 under aech_fic; I'm in the process of getting everything added to that site as well.

xxx

There hadn't been much time to talk since they regrouped in Sabaody. Honestly, they'd been pretty much forced to hit the ground running with Marines and pirates alike hot on their heels almost as soon as they'd finished saying hello to each other.

And there hadn't been more than a few minutes to exchange stories once they'd set sail for the depths of Fishman Island- not with the distraction of enormous sea kings swanning past the Sunny, and with being attacked by that weird mud Logia who'd then tried to stow away and promptly been bottled in his barrel by Franky, as well as attacked by- Zoro finds himself shaking his head at this even days later, because only Luffy would name a kraken after dried shredded squid snacks.

One thing after another: Vander Decken and the Flying Dutchman, Neptune and his brood, Hody Jones and the New Fishman Pirates. Another mad scramble to save another kingdom in distress.

Not that the swordsman particularly MINDED lending his swords to the cause, but truth be told, the whole ordeal had been kind of… boring? His opponents had been mediocre at best; there was no self-actualizing revelation like when he'd been fighting Crocodile's steel-bodied minion – Daz Bones – during their time in Arabasta.

No, he'd merely been grateful that it was over, and he and Luffy would finally have the time to do more than exchange promising glances at awkward moments. Because regardless of training, patience only goes so far, and by the time they'd been invited back to the palace following the final battle, they were both running short.

There'd been food and luxury, but no legitimate privacy, until Zoro had finally succumbed to his own impetuosity and collared the captain before he could visit the overflowing banquet table for another serving. Luffy hadn't argued- just crammed the fistful of drumsticks into his mouth and trotted after him, both of them ignoring the pointed looks shooting back and forth between their reclining crewmates.

But there'd been no privacy outside the palace either. They'd found themselves dodging an endless army of grateful citizens and had both taken to casting speculative and somewhat desperate glances at nearby alleyways by the time they returned to the Sunny.

The ship carries a strong odor of sea salt and ozone, a lingering side effect of the coating that enabled them to reach depths otherwise unattainable.

Zoro supposes they could've done the easy thing and just requested a room from their new aquatic friends instead of wasting so much time. He also supposes they could've skipped their impromptu tour of the ship, headed straight for the men's quarters or the lookout tower – or, if they were feeling particularly daring and maybe a touch suicidal, one of the beds in the women's quarters – and happily banged each other senseless.

But he hasn't exactly been thinking clearly, and apparently neither has Luffy.

Instead of getting right down to business, they've ended up wandering around Sunny's decks while they fill in a few more of the gaps created by their two-year separation, occasionally bumping elbows because they haven't decided whether holding hands is mandatory or just plain silly, and letting the sexual tension mount.

It's become a game, seeing who can hold out the longest: Zoro casually fondles the handles of his katana, Luffy makes a production of sucking on the piece of candy he's discovered in one of his pockets. Zoro's bandana somehow comes undone and flutters to the deck, requiring him to bend over and retrieve it. He takes his time.

When he straightens up, Luffy's studying him with undisguised hunger and bluntly suggests a walk through the Soldier Dock system. To check out that awesome new tank, of course, because Franky had whisked it away immediately after the battle, before he got the chance to hop inside and play with the controls.

They both know what else is down there.

Zoro absentmindedly polishes the pommel of Kitetsu with the pad of his thumb, pretending not to notice the way his captain's eyes are immediately drawn to even such subtle movement. He acquiesces that, yes, a trip to the lower levels of the ship seems in order.

xxx

Despite their stubbornly-exercised physical restraint, it doesn't take long before the conversation's taken on a decidedly risqué topic.

"That stuff you told us back at the palace. You're seriously telling me that woman - whatshername – really woke you up by yanking on your dick?"

"Marguerite? Yeah! I said, didn't I? Her and some of the other Amazons- they thought it was a mushroom or something!" Luffy laughs unselfconsciously, flashing a sly grin at the swordsman walking beside him, whose scarred face is caught somewhere between jealousy and amusement. "I was pretty out of it; I actually thought it was YOU 'til I opened my eyes and found her staring down at me instead."

While they'd left Sanji fuming over what he kept referring to as vast injustice and Nami's face had taken on a decidedly pinched and distressed expression at the discussion of the Straw Hat captain's personal equipment, Luffy thinks being mistakenly manhandled by the Kuja women is one of the most hilarious things that's ever happened to him.

He'd been extremely groggy at the time, body stressed thanks to the energy stolen by the parasitic mushrooms- not to mention being thoroughly scorched and then dumped unceremoniously in water that may or may not have contained sea salt while the Amazons attempted to cleanse him. Marguerite probably hadn't even realized that he'd briefly regained consciousness long enough to establish the fact that, no, it wasn't his swordsman tugging at him with such misguided determination but rather a complete stranger.

A stranger in a strange land.

His huge smile doesn't exactly fade, but it's unexpectedly become frozen and somewhat forced.

Finding himself on Amazon Lily after being violently ejected from Sabaody by Bartholomew Kuma had been like waking from a bad dream only to discover that the nightmare was real. He still remembers the panic that seized him upon sitting up and seeing his unfamiliar surroundings. His ship, presumably left far behind. His nakama vanished, their fate unknown. At best, blown to the four winds. At worst...

And his first mate, his lover - the green-haired pirate now walking beside him - gone as well, such a short time after they'd finally quit tip-toeing around the inevitable and consummated their relationship, taking stolen kisses and casual touching and curiosity a step farther.

It's haunted Luffy repeatedly over the past two years, interjecting itself into his dreams and even interrupting his training at crucial moments on more than one occasion. He couldn't help wondering if it wasn't partially his fault that Zoro fell victim to Kuma first; severely weakened by the desperate struggle with the pacifistas and suffering a direct hit from one of their beams, his crewmate had narrowly escaped death at Kizaru's hands only to find himself at Kuma's feet, unable to fight, unable to escape. Unable to do nothing but tremble and bleed until that gigantic figure swatted him out of existence.

The Straw Hat captain can still remember the unsettling chill that had seized him at the sight of empty air where his swordsman had been crouching, remember the way his heart had momentarily stuttered in his chest, remember the feeling of sheer terror that his nakama might be dead, blotted out by the Shichibukai like a bothersome midge. He also remembers hearing Kuma say something odd that had snapped another piece of the puzzle in place, although there hadn't been time to think about it, not then.

"So you're still alive, Roronoa."

And Zoro's equally strange response: "Thanks to your mercy."

Luffy had been on the ground, dazed, his ears ringing, but he'd heard them anyway. He'd heard and seen and mentally recorded everything uttered and done by his crew that fateful day, senses fine-tuned by the immense threat with which they'd been faced.

Why? Why had the Tyrant even bothered making such an observation? What had Zoro meant? And why had he found such a seemingly innocuous if rather bizarre exchange coming back to him over and over during the past two years?

Two years. Plenty of time to wonder, to speculate, to blame himself. He's always been good at that – worrying and wondering "what if" – but he's also always extremely good at hiding it. At least from most people, anyway.

Rayleigh had never asked why he sometimes lost concentration during training- just blithely smacked him into the nearest tree and told him to quit woolgathering and pay attention.

Zoro had still been recovering from a myriad of injuries accrued during their time on Thriller Bark, and their doctor had been adamant that he not strain himself. And although the older pirate certainly hadn't complained - oh no, far to the contrary - the captain can't help thinking that being repeatedly dragged into this or that dark corner of the Sunny for an enthusiastic fucking probably hadn't helped.

In all likeliness, it had contributed to his inability to protect himself, and all because Luffy couldn't restrain himself and keep his goddamn dick in his-

His thoughts are interrupted by the elbow driving unexpectedly into his side and nearly knocking him flat on his face.

"Gah! Zoro-?"

"Hold up a second."

They halt, facing each other in the narrow hallway.

"Quit being so goddamn maudlin."

"I'm not-"

"No, shut up and listen to me. You've got that look- the one that means you're thinking too bloody hard." Zoro snorts, scowling darkly, although there's no real anger in it. Just exasperation and a vague hint of regret.

He studies Luffy for a moment, then abruptly raises a hand and grabs the younger man's lower face, fingers curling around his cheek and jaw to shake him playfully. "Seriously. How the hell did you mistake some girl's hand for this?"

"It was just for a second!"

The calloused thumb moves, leaving his cheek to brush tentatively across his lower lip, and Luffy feels his stomach perform a joyous, hopeful little flip-flop, his concerns fading. He pushes his concerns with Sabaody, with that strange exchange, aside, because it doesn't matter. He can afford to leave the puzzle unfinished. Whatever happened, Zoro's here now, very much warm and alive. And Zoro's touching him. Should he take this as an invitation? Does this mean it's time to end the game or just take it to the next level?

Only one way to find out.

Snapping his teeth at the intruding fingers, he smirks when they're hastily withdrawn with a bemused curse. "Zoro's hands are a lot bigger-"

He steps forward, his own hands suddenly shooting out and grasping the swordsman's wrists as he bulldozes him against the passage wall, leaning in until the tips of their noses are millimeters apart. "-and I seem to remember you pulling a lot harder too."

Zoro cautiously flexes his forearms, testing the grip but not struggling hard enough to break it, not really. If anything, he looks dangerously cheerful. Smug, even. His single eye is a midnight pool, dilated with obvious interest and avidly devouring his captain's gaze.

"Marguerite's fingers are all rough too- from shooting a bow," Luffy murmurs, feeling his heart beginning to pound faster at his lover's token resistance and immediately tightening his hold. "Just like yours from handling your… swords."

Grinning broadly at the thinly veiled innuendo, he presses their bodies together firmly enough that he can feel the hard line of the older pirate's hidden erection against his own pelvis. Watching his swordsman's lips part, saliva-dampened tongue gliding between them to leave them glistening in the dim light, drives a strangled noise - part snarl, part impatient whine - from his suddenly constricted throat.

Zoro's nostrils flare, and he inhales deeply before speaking, his voice low and full of menace. "I don't like other people touching you. Not like that."

"No, but thinking about it sure is making you horny."

"..."

Luffy smirks. "I thought about your hands every time-"

He detects a slight hitch in Zoro's breathing, another tremor in his fracturing calm, and knows what he's going to ask even before he speaks.

"Did you-?" Hesitant, as though he's unsure of the answer even though he already knows it. He just wants- no, he needs to hear Luffy say it out loud.

"Nah, I just wanked a lot. Didn't want anybody else- just Zoro. Although they WERE all pretty fascinated with my-"

"Good," Zoro snarls before he can explain the Kuja's confusion over the exact nature of family jewels, heaving off the wall and pinning the younger man against the opposite side of the hallway, even though his wrists remain securely imprisoned in his captain's grasp.

The movement grinds their groins together, and he's immensely pleased by the faint groan that escapes Luffy's open mouth and the way his eyes go half-lidded. "Because if you'd fucked one of them, I'd have to kill you. I'm not sharing you."

"What about you?"

"What about m-?"

In one smooth motion, Luffy twists and slams him against the paneling hard enough to rattle the lamp overhead, dragging his coat askew. One knee forces its way between his thighs, driving them apart and effectively trapping him where he stands unless he's willing to crush his balls in the process of breaking free.

It's like some bizarre courtship dance, the swordsman's contemplating as he feels teeth rake his exposed collarbone. Play-fighting, only a lot more serious, because they're not just roughhousing but also testing each other's limits. Silently determining the extent of each other's training beyond what they witnessed earlier today. Reestablishing where the boundaries lay.

"What about you?" Luffy asks again, releasing Zoro's wrists so he can slide his hands higher, twining their fingers and pushing the other pirate's arms higher over his head. He likes the way it looks, the way it feels, the way their fingers are laced together and their palms are growing damp against one another. He can see the light sheen of sweat surfacing on his swordsman's bare skin, the quickening pulse in Zoro's neck. "That Hawk-Eyes guy. Did you and he...?"

Zoro laughs, and his voice is husky and somewhat ragged. "What do you think?"

His captain answers by sinking teeth into the muscle-corded juncture between his neck and collarbone, and he hisses, rising on his toes.

It hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt – if that makes any fucking sense – a very good kind of hurt, and he's almost hyperventilating when the pinching, digging, biting pressure eases and is replaced by wet warmth as a tongue probes curiously at the stinging indents.

Luffy doesn't share his swordsman's talent for speaking clearly when his mouth's otherwise occupied, so sharing his thoughts requires reluctantly abandoning his exploration of the tooth marks he's made in his lover's flesh. And it's well worth it, he immediately decides upon raising his head, because Zoro's face is flushed, stunned.

"I think-" he declares before closing in to seize his crewmate's lips with his own. "-that you're mine. Zoro's mine."

There's a brief pause, a heartbeat, before Zoro responds enthusiastically, voice audible although muffled by their tangled mouths and Luffy's invading tongue. "I guess I can- I can live with that. And no, no, I didn't-"

His hands are suddenly free because Luffy's let them go and is reaching down, fumbling with his sash, tearing frantically at his coat and trousers.

"I know you didn't," his captain breaks the kiss long enough to gasp, then- "Zoro, I want-"

"Yeah, me too."

"Where-?"

The men's quarters is distressingly far away; at this rate, they'll never make it and while he's not entirely sure he cares about the rest of the crew returning and stumbling across them on the lawn deck, Zoro doesn't want to be interrupted. He wants sex, not a fight with the shitty cook or a furious dressing-down about their lack of propriety from the navigator. And it's not like the location matters this time, anyway, because he doesn't have to worry about debilitating injuries. He doesn't need to take it easy, and he doesn't need to tell Luffy to be careful.

A suggestion is hovering on the tip of his tongue- the whole reason they're down here in the first place, but even the door to Channel Three suddenly seems like too long of a walk.

"Fuck it. HERE." The older pirate demands, raking at Luffy's shorts and sending the button flying in his haste to undo them. He hears it hit the wall, drop, and go bouncing down the hallway, and he doesn't care. Lunging for the fly, he growls in frustration when the zipper catches, grabs handfuls of denim and rips.

"Oi, I liked those shorts!" The rubber man complains, but he's laughing helplessly and wrestling with Zoro's haramaki. It stubbornly resists his efforts, so he gives up and shoves it higher around the swordsman's middle.

Zoro drops the shredded fabric, and the smile that crosses his face is absolutely feral. "You're not wearing any underwear."

"Neither are you," Luffy observes once he's yanked down the black trousers, and he stops to admire the tableau before him, because the older pirate looks so deliciously disheveled. Coat hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, stomach band crumpled and turned partly inside out, pants bunched around one ankle and the boot he hasn't yet managed to kick loose. Katana carefully – always, always, regardless of the situation – propped aside where they'll be accessible without getting in the way, and that's so familiar, so Zoro, that he can't get help it and starts laughing again.

But then his outburst is choked off, silenced as his eyes reach his swordman's cock, standing at full attention, rigid and leaking, and-

More memories flash through his skull. Not Sabaody this time, but before Sabaody. The two of them breathing the same air in the cramped, echoing interior of the submarine. Taking that same thick length in his hand and mouth, feeling it twitch in appreciation, accompanied by the heady sounds of Zoro crying out and scrabbling at the chair arms.

Liquid heat boils in his stomach, burning so bright and hot that he's afraid his lungs are about to ignite. He's been waiting- they've both been waiting two very long, very lonely years for this, but he can't seem to move. Or tear his eyes away.

"I figured I wouldn't bother with them," Zoro explains as he finishes removing his clothing and drops it on the messy pile they've started, and it takes Luffy a dazed moment or two to figure out he's talking about- pants, no, underwear and the lack of them. Right. "-wasn't just wishful thinking."

"…"

"Luffy?"

"Huh?"

"What the hell are you waiting for? And why are you still wearing your shirt?"

"I don't know," the captain admits, shaking his head briefly to clear the mental cobwebs before yanking off the garment in question and launching himself at Zoro, only to find himself held off at arm's length.

"Oi- aren't you forgetting something?"

"Wha- OH!" Diving to the floor to rummage hectically in the remains of his shorts, Luffy comes up with a vial in hand- the one he bought back on Sabaody and has been carrying around with him in hopes that he'd eventually get to use it. He fumbles and nearly drops it in his haste. "Here, here!"

The swordsman plucks it from his outstretched hand and thumbs off the cap.

"Zoro? Don't you want me to-?" He licks his lips pointedly, gesturing.

"No. I need you right here."

Luffy looks and promptly chokes on his own spit, knowing he's never – never ever ever – going to forget the sight of his first mate leaning back against the wall, one hand shifting his balls higher to expose the flesh beneath and give his other hand room to work lubricant-slick and dripping fingers into his own body.

The rubber man sways, bracing one hand on Zoro's chest to steady himself, because it feels as though all the blood's suddenly rushed from his brain to his groin, a sensation that leaves him both painfully hard and unbelievably dizzy.

"Sencho, are you-?"

"F-Fine," he stammers, swallowing forcefully.

"You're not still all fucked up from blood loss?" Zoro asks suspiciously, and then he gives a sharp, rather embarrassing yip of surprise as he's abruptly seized by the shoulder and spun to face the wall. "Ah! Okay, I guess not."

"Zoro. Zoro-" Luffy's dimly aware that he sounds like a broken sound dial recording as he plasters himself against his lover's back, so overwhelmed by the heat of the muscular body that the blunt head of his cock misses its mark and skids upwards, sliding between the older pirate's buttocks. He bites his lower lip, afraid he's going to explode all over Zoro's ass before he can even get inside, and his voice takes on a note of pleading that's downright pitiful. He doesn't care. "Zoro-"

"Luffy, calm down, okay? I'm not going anywhere." A hand reaches back to correct him, calloused fingertips raising lines of fire along his length as they guide him back to where he needs to be. "Here."

And just like that, firm pressure that gives way when he wraps his arms around Zoro's torso and pushes, turning into one long sweet slide that steals his breath and makes his toes curl in the sandals he's forgotten to remove.

His brain – before it shorts out and temporarily renders him incapable of anything resembling coherent thought – tells him he ought to wait, gather his frayed nerves so this lasts more than a few minutes, but he isn't given the chance because his swordsman is already starting to move.

Bending forward to nudge himself a bit further from the wall and give them both more room to maneuver comfortably, Zoro rocks back against him, emitting low urgent gasps, and Luffy knows without looking that his eye is closed, his mouth has fallen open and his face is flushed with exhilaration.

The abdominal muscles under the captain's hands are tense but not rigid, firm under his fingertips, and he's acutely aware of the difference between this and their first time, when the other man had been so consumed with duty and poorly guarded anxiety, too concerned with their surroundings to actually relax and enjoy himself.

That's clearly not the case now, although Luffy's certain that – in the unlikely event of an attack – the older pirate still wouldn't be caught completely off guard. There's a part of him that's remained on high-alert even now, ready to register a potential disturbance, but it's retreated to the background until needed and no longer at conflict with the rest of him.

It's not that Zoro's new sense of calm has escaped Luffy until now; he was definitely aware of it during the fighting earlier, when he watched the swordsman unleashed his katana-driven whirlwind. He'd also heard a great deal about the defeat of Hyouzou, which he'd unfortunately missed, being far too busy dealing with Hody and the ark.

But witnessing it from a distance during a battle is vastly different than seeing it up close and personal during sex. And not just seeing it, but feeling it.

He buries his face between his first mate's shoulder blades, muffling a whimper.

"You okay back there?" Zoro asks, unable to hide his mirth, and the rubber man immediately headbutts him in the back for managing to sound so goddamn self-righteous and in control when he's the one with a cock buried in his ass.

"I-I'm fine! I just needed a second to-"

"We can stop if you need to," the other man teases, and Luffy decides right then and there that he's going to bite the bastard somewhere sensitive when he least expects it. Although, knowing Zoro, he'd probably like that. Which raises some interesting possibilities, which he files away for further consideration.

"Stop THIS." He punctuates his words with a rough thrust and is satisfied – or at least less annoyed – when Zoro grunts and bangs his forehead on the wall.

"Ow! Jeez, will you-"

He doesn't give his swordsman a chance to finish. Just does it again.

"-hold on a-"

And again.

"DAMN IT, LUFFY!"

But he doesn't actually sound angry, not with that hint of laughter and the way he's pushing back to meet the assault. Or the way his heart's banging away under the hand Luffy's just slid up his chest to play with his left nipple and hold him steady.

"We can stop if you need to," the captain suggests, voice syrupy with gleeful sarcasm.

"Nngh! F-Fuck you!" Zoro snaps back. "Oi, don't pinch!"

"Sorry." Although he's not in the least, and gives the nub between his thumb and forefinger another sharp tweak. "Oops."

His lover doesn't bother yelling at him again and instead grabs him and pins his hands palm to the wall, his own fanning over them to prevent him pulling free. It means Luffy needs to stretch to maintain his balance and also rotates his arms in a funny way that would probably really bother the hell out of him if he wasn't rubber, but the katana-roughened fingers are folding over and pushing between his, and he likes seeing their joined hands too much to complain and contentedly settles into a regular rhythm.

The other pirate's fallen silent again. Except for the noises. Throaty grunts and growls that reverberate in his ribcage and leave Luffy's face tingling and burning where it's pressed against his back. He swears he can feel the vibrations rippling down his stomach and through his thighs as well, and it's a very, very pleasant sensation.

Possibly a little too pleasant.

He's hovering on the edge, possibly only one or two thrusts from completion and fighting with all his strength to hold back, when the tight heat hugging his shaft unexpectedly disappears. It's a change so jolting – chilly air surrounding him where there was previously only warm flesh – that he squawks in protest, hips giving a spontaneous jab at nothing.

Stumbling, the captain nearly collides with the wall as he reaches for the swordsman who's twisted loose and slipped so suddenly from the circle of his arms.

Before he can ask what the hell is going on, why they've stopped, his feet are swept out from under him and he's on his back on the floor and his partner's sinking down on him, one hand grasping his cock firmly by the base.

Zoro stiffens, tilts his head back and moans as he impales himself in one merciless stroke, and Luffy surges upwards against him without a second thought, his fingernails, short as they are, raking thin shavings from the planks beneath him when the tension coiled inside him snaps without warning.

The sudden orgasm leaves him breathless and startled and disappointed, because he expected a lot more from himself for their first time together after being separated for so long. There's no denying it felt good. It felt absolutely amazing. But it's not quite as much fun unless the pleasure's mutual and shared equally between both parties, and Zoro hasn't-

Zoro squirms experimentally and grins when his eyes go wider, hands flocking like startled seabirds to grasp the older pirate's hips.

"C'mon, Sencho- I know you've got more fight in you than that."

"But I just-" His lover's hips rock down on him and he yelps. "Oi! Didn't I-?"

"You did and you didn't," Zoro hums, reaching down to trace the edges of the starburst scar on his chest. "Hold still a second."

Puzzled, he obliges, and the swordsman inhales sharply and does something with the muscles in his lower body that makes Luffy flail when the snug tunnel encompassing his length constricts and releases in a steady, massaging pulse, and he realizes that his first mate's right. He's not deflating like he expected but still hard and responsive and very much aware of his aching balls.

"But h-how-?" It's hard to talk, hard to think while being squeezed like that.

"Pressure points." Fingers tap lightly at the place where their bodies are connected, and Zoro purrs, his face taking on such a devious cast that the captain gulps nervously and wonders if his earlier taunting was such a good idea. "I can keep you like this for as long as I want."

He smirks, closing his eye and tipping his head back again with a groan as he resumes rocking. "Mihawk's library had some, ah, really interesting books…"

Luffy blinks and then bursts into delighted laughter, shifting his hands for a better hold on the other man's hips. "You didn't bring any along, did you?"

"Mmm, unfortunately not- but I remember what they said. And I know the stuff works, 'cause I- uh- tried out a few things on myself."

A mental image of his swordsman sprawled naked on red silk sheets – he's got no clue where the idea of red silk sheets comes from, but that Hawkeye guy seems the type to own them – with illicit reading material in one hand and cock in the other - and isn't THAT a tantalizing thought - surfaces briefly in Luffy's mind, and he shudders, fingertips digging into Zoro's flanks.

"Enough talk for now. We can do that later- right now I just want to screw around until neither of us can walk a straight line."

"You're gonna have a hard time napping if your ass hurts so bad you can't lay on your back," the captain warns him, grinning.

"I'm sure it'll be worth it. If you stop flapping your lips, anyway."

There's no malice in the statement; they both know damn well that the younger pirate probably couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life, at least not for more than a few minutes.

Sure enough: "Zoro, you're gonna tell me all about that stuff you read, right? Maybe show me too?"

"No. I was planning on asking Nami to turn the ship around so we could go back and ask Mihawk to lend us a copy, maybe give us some pointers. YES, Luffy. Now would you-"

"Okay, okay! I was just asking."

Thumbs rubbing circles on his lover's hips as they move together, Luffy finds himself wishing there was something he could contribute. Something to share, some way to match the new sexual skills that his first mate's brought to the table. Or the bed. Or the floor?

He's preparing to give it up as a lost cause and just give himself over to the moment, when a thought suddenly occurs to him, and he immediately begins to turn it over and over in his head. Yes. Yes, it could work, but only if Zoro doesn't unknowingly bat it aside, so first he'd better-

"-stop moving? LUFFY. Oi, if you're just gonna zone out, this is kinda just a waste of-"

"Zoro, I wanna try something. Trust me?"

"Sure."

The response is so sincere, so automatic and matter-of-fact that he wants to hug the older man around the neck. Only Zoro would agree so easily without asking for details; only Zoro would commit himself so thoroughly without asking why or "what the fuck are you thinking now" and the emotion that wells up inside his chest is so powerful that he aches.

"Not sure what's gonna happen," he warns his swordsman, taking a shallow, shuddery breath. "Never tried this before."

"Go for it."

"You gotta be looking at me, okay? And if I, uh, knock you out, it's not on purpose."

"O-kay?" And then, as comprehension dawns, with growing interest and a touch of excitement that he can't quite hide. "Oh. Eh, sure, what the hell- give it a shot."

Luffy frowns, his brow furrowing in concentration. Accessing just the right amount of Haoshoku is like cautiously turning on the faucet to a tap that immediately tries to run full blast when all you want is a trickle. Training with Rayleigh has taught him to control it, but that doesn't mean it's easy, especially with Zoro all taut and hot around him.

He releases a shaky puff of air, fighting to slow his heart's furious hammering as he locks gazes with his first mate.

The trick is timing the release between heartbeats – a practice somewhat akin to touching off certain firearms, although Luffy's never handled them and therefore doesn't know this – and restraining the bulk of his will while letting just a hint, just a trickle, escape.

It almost works.

He's easing on the metaphorical faucet when Zoro sneezes explosively.

The swordsman automatically tenses, body squeezing down painfully on him, and he loses control. For just a second or two or maybe even three, and then he frantically reins everything back inside and shuts it down, but just those few seconds is enough to slam his will into his unprepared lover like a battering ram.

Having his gaze slightly out of focus and not directly linked with his captain's is probably the only thing that prevents Zoro from being rendered immediately unconscious.

The bolt of… he doesn't know what to call it, because it's pleasure and pain and right and not-right all rolled into one massive ball of energy that's exploding within every cell of his body all at once, although he'll later falteringly describe it as akin to being kicked sideways through an entire block of blazing buildings while simultaneously drowning. Or something like that.

There's no time to think about that now, though, because his body is simply reacting.

He rears back, hands convulsing into fists, and the noise that bursts from his throat is so close to a scream that Luffy panics. This is the first time he's ever attempted to use his Haki like this, and he doesn't know whether to take that agonized-sounding wail as very good or very, very bad.

Struggling to sit up, reaching for his swordsman because the way his spine's bowing looks downright painful, he's caught completely off-guard when the first jet of warm fluid splashes him full in the face with startling intensity.

Despite his surprised sputtering – he's pretty sure some of it caught him right in the mouth, salty but also bitter – he can't tear his watering eyes away from the older pirate's contorted face.

Zoro makes another noise, one that sounds more like a wounded animal than a human being. He slumps forward, barely managing to catch himself on trembling forearms, and hunches over with a grimace. He's coming in long, powerful bursts that are, thankfully, now directed at Luffy's torso rather than his head.

The captain can't help feeling alarmed, because there's an awful lot of, well, goo plastering itself all over his chest and belly. Way more than he remembers from before and definitely more than he's ever personally ejected, and his swordsman's darkly flushed face and violent shaking is starting to scare him.

He hopes he hasn't inadvertently triggered some kind of weird seizure or something. At least he's not foaming at the mouth. That's a good sign, right?

Zoro's arms suddenly give out, and he collapses bonelessly on the younger man. For a moment, Luffy's convinced he's passed out, fainted in fact, and is starting to nervously wonder if he hadn't ought to go hunt down the ship's doctor to make sure he hasn't done any permanent damage. That means running all the way back to the palace, because-

"Holy shit," a muffled voice slurs, lips moving against his collarbone.

"Z-Zoro?"

"F-Fuck. Shit. Holy shit," the voice says again, cracking. "Can't- I can't f-fucking brea-"

Another volatile expulsion, and Zoro spasms against him. The older pirate curses brokenly, then stiffens and sneezes AGAIN. "Son of a-!"

Luffy surveys him with a mixture of confusion and no small sense of anxiety. The man's obviously alright if he's capable of swearing his head off, but while the younger pirate's got no idea what's prompting his sneezing fit, whatever the cause, it's doing some very interesting things to the junction of their bodies.

Zoro slowly raises his head, panting, tears streaming down his cheek. He raises one unsteady arm to swipe clumsily at his nose, which is running with equal intensity, with the back of his hand and then tenses, squinting and waiting.

To his vast relief, the tickle in his nostrils passes.

"Gonna live?" Luffy asks, administering a curious prodding motion with his hips.

Zoro flinches, gritting his teeth. "Jeez! You're still hard, after all that?"

"Guess so." The captain stretches cautiously and then freezes as his swordsman hisses at the sensation of flesh shifting inside him. "Didn't you say you wanted me that way?"

"Yeah, but I don't think I can move. What the hell did you-?" A pause, and then, suspiciously. "Luffy… why are you all wet?"

"Because Zoro came all over me," the rubber man mutters. "I thought I was going to drown."

He reaches up to lay a hand on his swordsman's lower back, realizes that his palm's all slimy – wow, how'd that get there – and then plops it down anyway.

"… did you just wipe jizz on me?"

"Maybe. But you got it all over your front anyway, so I figured it didn't matter."

Zoro gives a noncommittal grumble.

There's a moment of silence.

"So…"

"That was brilliant. Stupid. But brilliant."

He doesn't bother trying to correct the contradiction. "You sneezed."

"I know. Something in the shit they used to coat the ship- it's been driving me fucking crazy." His first mate makes a faint snuffling sound. "Being on the damn floor probably isn't helping, but… I'm having a hard time deciding if I regret it or not."

"I wasn't sure it would work," Luffy admits. "But- yeah. Wow."

Zoro inclines his head to peer at him, remembering a plaza full of several thousand fishmen suddenly rendered incapable of doing anything but jittering weakly on the ground with their eyes rolled back and their mouths foaming and hopes like hell that it wasn't anything like what he just experienced, because that would be- that would be really fucking disturbing. He'll have to ask Luffy later. Maybe.

He stirs, popping his neck and shoulders, and then summons his remaining energy and rolls, reversing their positions so the captain's sprawled on top of him. "Here, you might as well finish. Just don't expect me to help too much."

Somehow the maneuver's performed without dislodging the younger pirate, which causes a confused tangle while they try to sort out which limb belongs to whom, because Luffy stubbornly refuses to pull out on the grounds that he's too comfortable and Zoro feels far too nice.

"Luffy, quit it- my elbow doesn't bend that way! Just get off and-"

"Hold still!"

"Will you just let go and- OI, NO BITING!"

When everything finally settles down, Zoro's feeling rather more recovered – and very relaxed, although he's grimacing slightly and favoring one nipple, which is suffering the after-effects of his captain's overenthusiastic teeth – and tucks his folded arms behind his head.

Luffy shoots him a dirty look. "If you fall asleep-"

"Don't worry, I won't." The swordsman lets his knees fall a bit further apart, allowing his captain more room between them, and gives his raised backside a provocative wiggle. "Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?"

"I'm getting there!" He makes a few tentative rolling motions with his hips, searching for the angle that suits both of them best, and then gradually builds up more speed. Not too much, not yet, but just enough to start creating some pleasant friction. "Is that- better?"

The only response is a soft rumble of satisfaction. Zoro's eyelids have fallen almost fully shut, but there's a furtive gleam between the functional set, so Luffy knows he's watching closely.

He's been bracing himself against the floor on either side of his first mate's waist, but now he leans back just enough to provide a counterbalance so he can smooth his hands across the other man's chest and stomach, tracing the contour of muscles, as he moves. One finger sweeps slowly down the raised line of scar tissue, then circles the hollow of belly button – there's a lazy warning grumble when he lingers – before dipping briefly inside and then continuing on.

A great deal of his frantic energy has dissipated, tempered by his body's happy comprehension that he's right where he belongs. Now that they're reunited, now that they have a few minutes, an hour, the rest of the night if they're lucky-

It doesn't really matter how long they'll be left alone until the rest of the crew shows up and it's time to set sail again, because right now, in this moment, they have all the time in the world.

There's no need to rush, and that's good. If he can, he wants to make this last.

Wrapping his fingers loosely around his swordsman, he grinds his palm lightly against his semi-erect shaft, thumb playing idly at the tip. Zoro gives a complacent hum that's almost a sigh, twitching in his grasp, and begins to move with him, pelvis tilting at a degree intended to take him as deep as possible with each stroke.

Luffy draws back until he's just shy of slipping free and hesitates there until he can't stand it any longer – thinks he'll go mad if he doesn't immediately find his way back into all that wet, clenching heat – and then plunges forward.

His lover exhales sharply, tensing hidden muscles that tug insistently on the captain's cock as he tries to withdraw again, and he finds himself instinctively pushing back inside before managing to pull even halfway out, heart pounding, head gone dizzy and reeling at the absolute certainty visible on the older pirate's face.

They've finally cut short the easy banter that's been flowing between them and gone silent except for involuntary gasps and groans, the noises they can't and don't want to contain, but Zoro's talking to him all the same.

I would follow you into hell, the former bounty hunter's expression says as he stares up at his captain, his voice – audible only in Luffy's head – no longer joking but deadly serious. I would follow you to hell and back again if necessary, because I'll never let anything separate us again, not even death.

The thought that immediately springs into his head is cliché and stupid and he knows this because he once heard Nami say so when she'd been discussing romance novels with Usopp and they'd thought no one was listening, but-

He's drowning.

Cliché or not, stupid or not, he knows it's true; he's drowning in Zoro's eyes. And it doesn't matter that the swordsman's lost one or that the remaining one is disappearing from view as he closes his own. He's suffocating, falling, drowning, forgetting everything but here and now, and in this moment, there's nowhere he'd rather be, nothing he wants more than to be forever joined heart and body and soul with the man beneath him.

A moment, no more, and one Luffy will promptly forget – although he will remember subconsciously – as soon as the outside world beckons, full of food and fun and adventure. Because whatever he and Zoro share means more than a few tawdry verbal exchanges; saying "I love you" aloud has never entered the equation, and it's possible it never will. But that's okay. It doesn't need to, not when so many words are unnecessary between them.

Only a moment, but a powerful one, and it hits him just as hard as his Haoshoku-backed will struck his swordsman earlier.

Zoro's watching closely and recognizes the way his captain's brows are knitting and his mouth's working soundlessly. He frees the arms that have, until now, been pillowing his head off the floor, reaching up to slide his hands behind Luffy's neck.

The rubber man's shuddering all over, tension laying thick on his skin, and he's barely aware that he's moving rapidly now and thrusting harder, the more vigorous pace urged by the heels now digging into the small of his back and towing him closer. "Zoro- I-"

Head swimming, vision blurred, he nearly loses his balance and catches himself with both hands flat on the floor on either side of his lover's head, panting.

"Sencho," Zoro addresses him cajolingly, face now near enough that their lips brush when he speaks, and he suddenly flexes his thighs and calves, trapping the younger pirate against him. "Sencho- Luffy, here. Wanna feel you come-"

-inside, Luffy's overwhelmed brain finishes, and that's exactly where he's being held. Inside, surrounded by slick, slippery muscle that's convulsing, because his swordsman's coming again, spilling sluggishly between their pressed abdomens.

He's on the edge, listening to Zoro groaning his name, telling him to do it now, to do it inside-

Luffy writhes, arching in his first mate's arms, and then insistent lips are covering his with bruising force, swallowing the cry exploding from his lungs as his hips jerk reflexively, desperately attempting to drive his spurting shaft deeper even though it's a physical impossibility.

After being held back during his previous orgasm, full and unrestrained release is so welcome that it's practically painful. He can feel his balls drawing up with each discharge, tender and heavy, his heartbeat a steady pulsing throb in his groin.

There are spots dancing in his vision because he can't breathe, but he doesn't want Zoro to stop kissing him, and it doesn't seem likely to happen anyway, not with the older pirate's hands holding him fast, one fisted in his hair and the other clasped against the back of his neck.

But eventually his need for oxygen outweighs his desire to remain lip-locked, and he slaps a hand repeatedly against the floor until his swordsman relents.

"Air~!"

"Sorry," Zoro chuckles, sounding equally winded. "Guess I got carried away."

He eases his death grip on Luffy's neck and settles back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches the younger man stretch dramatically. "Heh- you're still wearing your sandals, dumbass."

"Took you 'til now to notice," he snorts in reply, lifting one foot to wiggle his toes, and his smirk instantly fades into a nose-wrinkling moue of distaste. "Oh- gross."

"Hmm?"

"…my foot's all sticky."

"Yeah, well, so's the rest of you, and I'm laying ass-first in a goddamn puddle, so I think your foot's the least of our worries."

"There's a mop down here. Somewhere. Franky said-"

Zoro barks sudden laughter, unintentionally bouncing Luffy's head against his chest.

"What?" The captain asks, propping himself up on his elbows so he can peer into his swordsman's face. "What's so funny?"

"We never did make it to the fucking sub."

"Oh. Yeah. Shishishi."

And maybe that's a good thing, considering the stuff currently drying on – and under – them. He hadn't realized that giving Zoro that helpful little push would result in such a mess. It doesn't take much to imagine the same mess all over the inside of the sub. Or the control panel, with all those buttons and-

"Oi, Luffy? That thing you did to me with Haoshoku?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think you could do it to yourself? If you were looking in a mirror, I mean."

Luffy opens his mouth to say he doesn't think so, but then he closes it, frowning in consideration. Until today, he'd had no idea that Haki could even be used for prompting ridiculously powerful orgasms, but it had certainly worked earlier, so maybe-

"'Cause there's a mirror in the bathhouse," Zoro remarks pointedly, sliding both hands down his captain's back to seize his buttocks in a very firm, very friendly grip.

"Y-es," the rubber man agrees, grinning because he's pretty sure he can see where this is going.

"I don't know about you, but-" The swordsman squeezes, pressing down with his palms and up with his hips and making the extent of his interest perfectly clear. "-I'm ready for another round. And if everybody else is staying in the palace tonight…"

"Yeah?" He definitely sees where this is going, and he likes it.

"So we've got the whole ship to ourselves," Zoro continues, crushing the younger pirate against him and stretching forward to give his collarbone a rough nip. "I think I'd like to watch myself fucking you in the mirror-"

Oh, yes, he likes where this is going very much indeed.

"-and when we can't stand it anymore, you make both of us come with your Haki."

To the Straw Hat captain, who's gone from half- to full-mast at the implications of mixing mirrors with sex, not to mention Zoro's new and intense interest in exploring unconventional – at least to them, anyway – methods of intercourse, this sounds like the best plan ever.

Except for one thing: the bathhouse is like a million, trillion, gazillion miles away.

He's got a feeling that there's a pretty good chance he'll try to bend his swordsman facedown over the capstan before they get more than halfway to the ladder leading to the lawn deck. And he's got a feeling, given the hunger evident on the older pirate's face, that there's a pretty good chance his swordsman will let him.

"Well, what do you think?"

He thinks it sounds like an excellent idea.

He thinks he's going to get approximately ten steps before he grabs Zoro around the waist and throws him unceremoniously over the capstan wheel.

He thinks they're going to get distracted at least half a dozen times on the way. On the lawn deck, his mind supplies helpfully – hopefully – or maybe on the tree swing. The stairs, the dining room table, the roof deck, the mikan grove, the observation room, the ladder to the-

He thinks it's going to be quite some time before they make it to the bathhouse. Possibly longer than tonight will last.

He thinks that's okay because they have all the time in the world.