[ it's the first time, sanji realizes, that he's left to take care of the ship entirely alone. it had to be someone, since the marines have been fairly hot on their trail the past few days which left a higher need for a guard, and since luffy and zoro had already darted off ahead into the forests of the island (the former hastily hungry for adventure and the latter horrifyingly declaring "don't worry, i'll make sure he doesn't get lost"), there'd been little time to plan out the arrangements more thoughtfully. and, well, since it'd been nami who'd asked for a volunteer to protect her dear treasure, there could only be one man who'd scramble to take up the job position without a second thought.
so everyone moves on ahead and sanji remains, something that seems like a fine enough idea since there's plenty to do on board, tidying up the shelving of their food reserves and canning new specialty made jams and jellies for toast he'll serve at the crew's next breakfast meal. when he isn't in the galley, there are plenty of chores to be done, scrubbing the deck and wiping down railings (motivated by the common reward of nami patting his head gratefully when he does) and getting some laundry sorted.
the hours pass, more than he'd anticipated, and after about twenty-seven cigarettes smoked, he wonders if the crew is alright.
it isn't so common these days that he's left entirely alone, always having someone around, never left behind long enough for him to really notice the emptiness, not as he does now. the usual laughter is absent and his friends are too far away for him to reach.
(the last time he'd felt that alone, he'd been in the confines of a cell, suffocated by darkness, crying out to no one who cared if he lived or died—)
no, it's alright. he believes in his crew, knows that they'll look out for one another. and most importantly, zoro is with them. as long as he stayed by their side, they'd all be safe. the two of them had promised one another that, without words.
once he's taken care of the girls' clothes, those having taken priority first, sanji begins to rummage in the rooms for the boys' scattered articles, a much smellier affair, unfortunately. the worst of the offenders consists of zoro's, of course, immediately frowning when he sees all the familiar shirt pieces, a number of them originally having been his own before zoro had slipped them on and accidentally stretched out the fabric in his favor. ]
Shitty Marimo. [ he mutters to himself, with no one else to hear his grumbles.
crouching down to the ground to toss the pieces into the basket, he halts when his fingers grab a dark green coat, the fabric thin and surprisingly soft to the touch, jolted into a memory of a time he'd peeled it open, palms sneaking beneath it to reach for zoro's cock, heavy and intoxicating to stroke even before he's hard. he'd ultimately ended up on his knees, the swordsman's pants shoved down but still wearing that green fabric as sanji enthusiastically stuffed his mouth, head bobbing until he could feel familiar wet heat spilling down his throat.
the sanji of presents swallows recalling it, feeling the stirring warmth within his own trousers. he hates that it makes him think about how much he misses that idiot, even when he's only been away for half a day. he hates even more how such a short time apart feels that ridiculously unbearable.
the laundry basket gets left on the floor, forgotten, as sanji removes his own clothes without much logical thought, draping that coat around his own naked body. pressing his nose to the collar, it doesn't even reek, as he'd typically expect. it just smells like zoro, like musk and metal and sweat, like the soft press of his kiss on a lazy morning. he engulfs himself with more of that smell when he lays in zoro's bed — their bed, most days, with how often sanji collapses in it after long hours in the galley — and pulls the coat even tighter around himself, eyes closing. ]
Stupid idiot Marimo. [ another insult for no one, hating zoro even more for not being here to hear it. it should be nami or robin on his mind and yet, it's the dumbass who leaves him aching, just for being away for a little while.
he inhales again, musk, metal, sweat, and his heart quickens, hips stirring as he thinks of that memory again, strong fingers stroking through his hair, always surprising him with a gentle touch, such a contrast to his slashing swords bent on killing him, all for him just to caress his neck like the "shitty cook" is actually the most delicate creature to exist. sanji wants that touch again, wants that heavy warm body, and he could feel his own cock react to the quiet desire, slowly tenting beneath the coat's fabric. ]
Fuck. [ like he's trying to warn himself to have some sense, but his hand is already moving, arm tucking inward to pull out of the sleeve and slip downward, curling a grip around the shaft to start stroking, slow movements leaving him in a shudder. zoro kissing him. zoro touching him. zoro fucking him. he loses himself in the fantasies of past experiences, hand quickening with its pace as the groans begin to work their way out of his throat, deep sounds that imitate the same ones that slip when zoro takes him far enough past his lips to tickle his nose against a thick patch of blond hairs.
the crown of his cock rubs up against the coat from within, threads going a darker shade as it dampens, precome leaking enough to stain. but sanji still strokes himself, forgetting everything else as he pants against the touch of his own hand, heels digging into the mattress with a whine, arching his hips up from the bed. ] D-damn it — Zoro ...
( this isn't an unusual affair, luffy running off as soon as they dock and zoro having to run after him to corral him into some kind of order, but it hasn't happened in a while. luffy takes off like a shot and like an old habit rearing its ugly head, zoro takes off without a second thought. somehow it's easier to do now, knowing that if he disappears, sanji will be there to pick up the slack.
of course, he doesn't know that sanji's the one left behind on the ship while the others disembark to see whatever else the island has to offer.
eventually, he does catch up to luffy and the two of them wander together before suddenly luffy is lost and zoro's left standing alone in the middle of a copse of lemon trees. it's fragrant in a way he hadn't really expected and somehow when he looks at the branches with the yellow citrus hanging heavy among the green leaves, it makes him think of the stupid cook. zoro's lips push up into a small scowl that he's so easily swayed by a stupid color.
before he even realizes what he's doing, he's reaching up to pluck the fruit from the trees until he's laden with them. having to carry all these back is going to be annoying, so he takes his shirt off to tie them up into it, hangs it off the handle of one of his swords as he makes his way back to the ship.
which, of course, takes a bit longer than anyone else might take to get back. but, that's not his fault. it's never his fault.
anyway.
he boards the ship, curious at how quiet it is. instantly, his hackles are raised; someone always watches the ship and now no one's to be found. he doesn't like the implication of it. he searches the ship, checking everywhere and only winds up in the bunks last. what he sees actually stops him in his tracks. so, the idiot love cook is the one who got left behind to watch and he's in here being filthy in zoro's bed, with zoro's jacket, thinking about zoro.
nice.
for a few moments he just stands there watching him, feeling his own cock fill with interest as it tends to whenever sanji does anything remotely alluring. considering this is downright obscene, he's on a quicker path to arousal. quietly he sets the makeshift sack of lemons down, removes his swords, heads over toward the bed, )
[ everything else vanishes. the gentle rocking of the ship against light waves, the squawking of birds taking off from the island's trees, the loneliness of being on his own in the cabin. because in his mind, zoro is here with him, urging his legs to spread further — which he does, toes curling to lift himself higher off of them, like he can somehow offer a better angle to be fucked — and then thrusting in deep inside of him. his hole might be empty now but it takes little to recall the sensation of zoro stretching him open, the thrilling rub of where he likes it most.
he moans again, eyes still screwed tight with heavier pants from his lips, fingers twisting into a tighter fist to stroke harder.
and then he hears his voice, so clearly that he's surprised by how clear his fantasy can be, before it jolts him into opening his eyes, the surprise dropping him into the mattress as his feet give out from lifting himself. ]
Fuck, what are you—!? [ lifting himself on an elbow, he gives a squeeze to his cock on impulse, like he could somehow calm it down that way instead of making it worse. his instinct is to try to cover up what he'd been doing, just because that would be the most sensible thing to do, but — including the boner's that poking out from under the jacket that's definitely not his, and whatever obscene noises he'd been making just seconds ago, there's honestly little worth bothering to hide.
but sanji and stubbornness are old friends, so he hisses between his teeth, even as he still breathes hard, his face a complete fluster. ]
( by the time sanji's done spluttering all over himself, zoro's beside the bed. his gaze rakes over sanji beneath his jacket and he can see where he's hard beneath it — as if he hadn't when he'd been standing near the door — and he wets his lips. it's rare when he doesn't feel a low, simmering banked heat for sanji just regularly, but it's grown into an inferno as he's watching him and it's a little obvious just how turned on it's made him.
his fingers flex at his side; this is a test of his willpower, his patience. he just wants to jump on sanji right now and fuck him into the mattress. how could he not? this is one of the more overt ways sanji's shown he's actually into him; zoro rarely — if ever — gets that kind of thing from him. of course he wants to jump on it.
but, he refrains from touching him. for the moment.
he doesn't even bother answering sanji's questions. no point in it. and sanji probably knows already that he's not going to entertain them. )
Keep going. ( his voice is low, there's an edge of demanding in his tone. he wants to see more. feels like he needs it. ) Show me what you'd be doing if I wasn't here.
[ sanji hates him more than ever, watching him from the other side of the deck where he burns up a huge part of his cigarette from the deep inhale at watching that stretch, eyes locked upon the wide frame of zoro's bare chest. everyone else is roaming around on the grassy deck of the sunny, but only sanji seems to actually be giving zoro any direct attention. ]
[ if he touches him around other eyes, it's through a fight, gripping hard at fabric like a threat, foreheads bracing hard together. anything even possibly affection or intimate stays a secret. ]
[ sanji scoffs out loud, because for one thing, it'll always annoy him when zoro reads into him so well and calls him out, but also because vocalizing the things he wants isn't something sanji ever does. he's not supposed to want for anything, even with zoro. even with something like this.
he doesn't immediately answer, taking a minute to just smoke his cigarette. ]
i want to go inside let me press my dick between them
( zoro's got to push him, otherwise they won't get anywhere. it can seem like sanji wants everything that's happening behind closed doors, but sometimes zoro just really needs to hear it so he doesn't feel so damn alone in his wants. it's exhausting, sometimes, but he thinks — for some stupid fucking reason — that sanji's worth all this extra effort.
[ it probably shouldn't be so complicated but with sanji's history, it still feels weird sometimes to be asked at all about his wants, and it's especially strange when it comes from zoro. not because zoro seems like he wouldn't care, but because a part of him always knows that the other man would give it to him, if asked. some days, he doesn't know what to do with that. at least with sex, it gives him the practice of getting accustomed to it. ]
( getting right down to it, zoro's really just a simple man. everything is black or white with no shades of grey in between. once he makes a decision, he sticks with it and really can't be swayed in any other direction, no matter how much he may physically stray from a beaten path. that's, at least, one of the reasons why it's easy for him to give sanji what he wants — even if he can't voice it yet or even consciously know he wants it. it's just something so simple and easy.
plus, he enjoys it. there's something he gets from sanji he wouldn't get anywhere else. no reason to deny himself something good. )
[ ok. it really is that simple. it's funny how a conversation like this can go so easily when the two of them can argue endlessly about everything else. not like sanji helps too much with that, with how much he bucks against zoro through nearly every interaction. ]
( yeah, it's that easy. it's probably always going to be that easy, and maybe one of these days sanji will get it. zoro's not really holding out for that to happen, so he'll take what he can get when he can get it.
as per his usual, zoro doesn't bother responding and after reading that and waiting a minute or two, he rolls up to his feet and, yeah, saunters across the deck toward their rendezvous point. doesn't seem out of the ordinary because that's typically where zoro spends his time, anyway.
when he gets up there, he stands there for a moment trying to figure out the logistics of this, but... well, this kind of thing isn't his strong suit. so, he opts for sitting on the floor for now, relaxed, as he waits for sanji to join him. )
[ sanji enjoys another cigarette in the meanwhile, watching as zoro stands up, choosing to stay right where he is so it isn't so obvious that he intends to follow after him. hard to say if the others have already caught on to their little affair; robin's probably pieced it together, at least, since there isn't much that tends to escape her eyes or ears (sometimes literally with her ability), but if anyone else knows, no one's said a thing.
it doesn't have to be a secret, but sanji keeps guarding this thing like keeping it from being known keeps it from being real, and the more real it gets, the less he's sure in whether or not he could break it.
he takes his time in finishing his cigarette before he tosses out the remaining stub, finally slipping away from the deck, climbing up a ladder he's used time and time again for sneaking meetings like this. ]
Oi. [ he mutters quietly once he's up there, saying nothing else as he lowers himself onto zoro's lap, palms bracing against either side of his neck as he presses their mouths together for an impatient kiss. ]
( sanji takes his sweet time coming up here and zoro's beginning to wonder if he got cold feet about it. wouldn't be the first time, probably. it's annoying, sure, because any time sanji mentions anything sexual, zoro's switch is flipped pretty quickly so he's ready to go. being made to wait is annoying, especially because most of the time sanji doesn't even do it to be a shithead, he does it because he's a fucking wuss.
turns out meditation is pretty good for forcing away a boner in a pinch.
so, he's in the process of contemplating if he wants to go ahead and do that or just take a nap when he hears the click of sanji's fancy little shoes on the rungs of the ladder coming up. there's a self-satisfied smirk on his lips when he cracks an eye open to look at him as he crests through the door. he's full and ready to snap something, but before he can really even do that, sanji's in his lap ( ??? ) right away and kissing him.
well, that's a surprise. a welcome one, though.
zoro's hands slide up sanji's thighs and don't stop until they mould around the curve of his ass. he squeezes, tugs him impossibly closer, and tips his head up to return that kiss — a little more patient, but no less hungry. he rumbles a pleased noise in the back of his throat as his fingers move in a knead, almost coaxing sanji to grind against him. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
don't look at me!!!
[ it's the first time, sanji realizes, that he's left to take care of the ship entirely alone. it had to be someone, since the marines have been fairly hot on their trail the past few days which left a higher need for a guard, and since luffy and zoro had already darted off ahead into the forests of the island (the former hastily hungry for adventure and the latter horrifyingly declaring "don't worry, i'll make sure he doesn't get lost"), there'd been little time to plan out the arrangements more thoughtfully. and, well, since it'd been nami who'd asked for a volunteer to protect her dear treasure, there could only be one man who'd scramble to take up the job position without a second thought.
so everyone moves on ahead and sanji remains, something that seems like a fine enough idea since there's plenty to do on board, tidying up the shelving of their food reserves and canning new specialty made jams and jellies for toast he'll serve at the crew's next breakfast meal. when he isn't in the galley, there are plenty of chores to be done, scrubbing the deck and wiping down railings (motivated by the common reward of nami patting his head gratefully when he does) and getting some laundry sorted.
the hours pass, more than he'd anticipated, and after about twenty-seven cigarettes smoked, he wonders if the crew is alright.
it isn't so common these days that he's left entirely alone, always having someone around, never left behind long enough for him to really notice the emptiness, not as he does now. the usual laughter is absent and his friends are too far away for him to reach.
(the last time he'd felt that alone, he'd been in the confines of a cell, suffocated by darkness, crying out to no one who cared if he lived or died—)
no, it's alright. he believes in his crew, knows that they'll look out for one another. and most importantly, zoro is with them. as long as he stayed by their side, they'd all be safe. the two of them had promised one another that, without words.
once he's taken care of the girls' clothes, those having taken priority first, sanji begins to rummage in the rooms for the boys' scattered articles, a much smellier affair, unfortunately. the worst of the offenders consists of zoro's, of course, immediately frowning when he sees all the familiar shirt pieces, a number of them originally having been his own before zoro had slipped them on and accidentally stretched out the fabric in his favor. ]
Shitty Marimo. [ he mutters to himself, with no one else to hear his grumbles.
crouching down to the ground to toss the pieces into the basket, he halts when his fingers grab a dark green coat, the fabric thin and surprisingly soft to the touch, jolted into a memory of a time he'd peeled it open, palms sneaking beneath it to reach for zoro's cock, heavy and intoxicating to stroke even before he's hard. he'd ultimately ended up on his knees, the swordsman's pants shoved down but still wearing that green fabric as sanji enthusiastically stuffed his mouth, head bobbing until he could feel familiar wet heat spilling down his throat.
the sanji of presents swallows recalling it, feeling the stirring warmth within his own trousers. he hates that it makes him think about how much he misses that idiot, even when he's only been away for half a day. he hates even more how such a short time apart feels that ridiculously unbearable.
the laundry basket gets left on the floor, forgotten, as sanji removes his own clothes without much logical thought, draping that coat around his own naked body. pressing his nose to the collar, it doesn't even reek, as he'd typically expect. it just smells like zoro, like musk and metal and sweat, like the soft press of his kiss on a lazy morning. he engulfs himself with more of that smell when he lays in zoro's bed — their bed, most days, with how often sanji collapses in it after long hours in the galley — and pulls the coat even tighter around himself, eyes closing. ]
Stupid idiot Marimo. [ another insult for no one, hating zoro even more for not being here to hear it. it should be nami or robin on his mind and yet, it's the dumbass who leaves him aching, just for being away for a little while.
he inhales again, musk, metal, sweat, and his heart quickens, hips stirring as he thinks of that memory again, strong fingers stroking through his hair, always surprising him with a gentle touch, such a contrast to his slashing swords bent on killing him, all for him just to caress his neck like the "shitty cook" is actually the most delicate creature to exist. sanji wants that touch again, wants that heavy warm body, and he could feel his own cock react to the quiet desire, slowly tenting beneath the coat's fabric. ]
Fuck. [ like he's trying to warn himself to have some sense, but his hand is already moving, arm tucking inward to pull out of the sleeve and slip downward, curling a grip around the shaft to start stroking, slow movements leaving him in a shudder. zoro kissing him. zoro touching him. zoro fucking him. he loses himself in the fantasies of past experiences, hand quickening with its pace as the groans begin to work their way out of his throat, deep sounds that imitate the same ones that slip when zoro takes him far enough past his lips to tickle his nose against a thick patch of blond hairs.
the crown of his cock rubs up against the coat from within, threads going a darker shade as it dampens, precome leaking enough to stain. but sanji still strokes himself, forgetting everything else as he pants against the touch of his own hand, heels digging into the mattress with a whine, arching his hips up from the bed. ] D-damn it — Zoro ...
👀👀 i'm starin
of course, he doesn't know that sanji's the one left behind on the ship while the others disembark to see whatever else the island has to offer.
eventually, he does catch up to luffy and the two of them wander together before suddenly luffy is lost and zoro's left standing alone in the middle of a copse of lemon trees. it's fragrant in a way he hadn't really expected and somehow when he looks at the branches with the yellow citrus hanging heavy among the green leaves, it makes him think of the stupid cook. zoro's lips push up into a small scowl that he's so easily swayed by a stupid color.
before he even realizes what he's doing, he's reaching up to pluck the fruit from the trees until he's laden with them. having to carry all these back is going to be annoying, so he takes his shirt off to tie them up into it, hangs it off the handle of one of his swords as he makes his way back to the ship.
which, of course, takes a bit longer than anyone else might take to get back. but, that's not his fault. it's never his fault.
anyway.
he boards the ship, curious at how quiet it is. instantly, his hackles are raised; someone always watches the ship and now no one's to be found. he doesn't like the implication of it. he searches the ship, checking everywhere and only winds up in the bunks last. what he sees actually stops him in his tracks. so, the idiot love cook is the one who got left behind to watch and he's in here being filthy in zoro's bed, with zoro's jacket, thinking about zoro.
nice.
for a few moments he just stands there watching him, feeling his own cock fill with interest as it tends to whenever sanji does anything remotely alluring. considering this is downright obscene, he's on a quicker path to arousal. quietly he sets the makeshift sack of lemons down, removes his swords, heads over toward the bed, )
What are you cursing me for, Cook?
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he moans again, eyes still screwed tight with heavier pants from his lips, fingers twisting into a tighter fist to stroke harder.
and then he hears his voice, so clearly that he's surprised by how clear his fantasy can be, before it jolts him into opening his eyes, the surprise dropping him into the mattress as his feet give out from lifting himself. ]
Fuck, what are you—!? [ lifting himself on an elbow, he gives a squeeze to his cock on impulse, like he could somehow calm it down that way instead of making it worse. his instinct is to try to cover up what he'd been doing, just because that would be the most sensible thing to do, but — including the boner's that poking out from under the jacket that's definitely not his, and whatever obscene noises he'd been making just seconds ago, there's honestly little worth bothering to hide.
but sanji and stubbornness are old friends, so he hisses between his teeth, even as he still breathes hard, his face a complete fluster. ]
When— when the hell did you get back?
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his fingers flex at his side; this is a test of his willpower, his patience. he just wants to jump on sanji right now and fuck him into the mattress. how could he not? this is one of the more overt ways sanji's shown he's actually into him; zoro rarely — if ever — gets that kind of thing from him. of course he wants to jump on it.
but, he refrains from touching him. for the moment.
he doesn't even bother answering sanji's questions. no point in it. and sanji probably knows already that he's not going to entertain them. )
Keep going. ( his voice is low, there's an edge of demanding in his tone. he wants to see more. feels like he needs it. ) Show me what you'd be doing if I wasn't here.
for the tiddy.
put a fucking shirt on
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you're not even training anymore
just sitting there gross as hell in your sweat
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something crawl up your snooty little ass?
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[ or he's just fighting a boner. ]
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( did he ask? sure did, just to prove a point. )
just u
idiot cook
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[ they literally do not care. ]
you're the one being inconsiderate
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ur just being more of a pain in the ass than usual
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then he thinks he's figured it out. )
cant stop looking can you love cook
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shut up
you're distracting
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u pent up or something that u cant stop looking
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just annoyed
[ so yes. ]
keep them out like that and i'm gonna grab them and squeeze like hell
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then i'll chomp hard with my teeth so you feel it
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i'll fuck them
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sure u will
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i know what you're doing
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whats ur point
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ur the one who started bitching for no reason
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[ that's. yeah, that was his reason. ]
you're the asshole looking like that
out here where i can't touch you
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( he looks over at sanji, boring a hole into his head from across the ship. )
ask me
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[ if he touches him around other eyes, it's through a fight, gripping hard at fabric like a threat, foreheads bracing hard together. anything even possibly affection or intimate stays a secret. ]
ask you what
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dont play coy
i hate that shit when u do it
just ask me what u want
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he doesn't immediately answer, taking a minute to just smoke his cigarette. ]
i want to go inside
let me press my dick between them
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that's annoying as shit.
that's why he pushes a little bit more. )
between what
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between your tits
i want to come all over them
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plus, he enjoys it. there's something he gets from sanji he wouldn't get anywhere else. no reason to deny himself something good. )
ok
now?
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yeah now
training room
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as per his usual, zoro doesn't bother responding and after reading that and waiting a minute or two, he rolls up to his feet and, yeah, saunters across the deck toward their rendezvous point. doesn't seem out of the ordinary because that's typically where zoro spends his time, anyway.
when he gets up there, he stands there for a moment trying to figure out the logistics of this, but... well, this kind of thing isn't his strong suit. so, he opts for sitting on the floor for now, relaxed, as he waits for sanji to join him. )
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it doesn't have to be a secret, but sanji keeps guarding this thing like keeping it from being known keeps it from being real, and the more real it gets, the less he's sure in whether or not he could break it.
he takes his time in finishing his cigarette before he tosses out the remaining stub, finally slipping away from the deck, climbing up a ladder he's used time and time again for sneaking meetings like this. ]
Oi. [ he mutters quietly once he's up there, saying nothing else as he lowers himself onto zoro's lap, palms bracing against either side of his neck as he presses their mouths together for an impatient kiss. ]
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turns out meditation is pretty good for forcing away a boner in a pinch.
so, he's in the process of contemplating if he wants to go ahead and do that or just take a nap when he hears the click of sanji's fancy little shoes on the rungs of the ladder coming up. there's a self-satisfied smirk on his lips when he cracks an eye open to look at him as he crests through the door. he's full and ready to snap something, but before he can really even do that, sanji's in his lap ( ??? ) right away and kissing him.
well, that's a surprise. a welcome one, though.
zoro's hands slide up sanji's thighs and don't stop until they mould around the curve of his ass. he squeezes, tugs him impossibly closer, and tips his head up to return that kiss — a little more patient, but no less hungry. he rumbles a pleased noise in the back of his throat as his fingers move in a knead, almost coaxing sanji to grind against him. )
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they would pick 69
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so then my next question would be what do i have to do to get a hot blooded young man like yourself to think along those lines?
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