Play List Challenge -- "In Too Deep" (One Piece, Zoro/Sanji)
Sanji wasn’t exactly sure how that thought managed to reach him, what with Zoro’s dick up his ass. But somehow it did. These secret hook-ups had been going on for a few months now, and the swordsman had been unusually distant the last couple of times they’d done it.
It didn’t affect the act itself. Zoro flawlessly kept up the fast and hard rhythm they’d established in the beginning, hitting that spot that made Sanji see stars with almost every thrust. His hand on Sanji’s cock was rough and smooth in just the right places and the torturous way his strokes quickened and slowed, quickened and slowed, keeping him constantly on edge, was driving him absolutely crazy.
But it was the little things that alerted Sanji. He could feel Zoro’s mouth hovering over the junction where neck became shoulder, which wasn’t unusual. But normally, Zoro would’ve bitten down by now. Sanji would’ve protested, because it was expected, but at the same time he would’ve been arching into the attention and Zoro would’ve chuckled smugly around the flesh in his mouth.
And Zoro was too quiet. He wasn’t loud in bed-or, rather, in pantry-but he wasn’t a fucking mute. Sanji had reveled in the little groans and grunts he’d been able to wrench out of the stoic swordsman, but the most he got now was faint, labored breathing against the back of his neck.
It was kind of pissing him off.
But he couldn’t exactly confront the other man about it in this position.
“Zoro, wh-nngh!” was as far as he got before Zoro hit that spot again, and again, and again, rendering him-well, not exactly silent, especially not when Zoro gripped his jerking erection hard and pumped him through to completion. He slumped against the pantry wall with a moan, feeling the fingers on Zoro’s other hand dig into the skin of his hips as the swordsman came, pulsing, inside him.
Zoro pulled out a second later and Sanji grimaced at the feeling before turning around. Zoro was pulling his pants back up, his eyes fixed disinterestedly on the floor. He looked like he’d just finished a chore or something, like washing the dishes or tidying up the bunkroom. Sanji hated it.
“What’s your problem, marimo?”
“No problem,” Zoro grunted, looking up when he’d finished fastening his pants.
Sanji recognized the look the swordsman was giving him. It was his defiant, got-something-to-prove-while-still-not-giving-a-fuck-what-you-think expression and Sanji was used to it. But there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes, something unhappy, something that made Sanji’s chest hurt in a weird way. It was a flicker of something Sanji had been dreading since they’d started, something he thought that maybe-with Zoro-he could avoid. But obviously he was wrong.
Zoro turned to leave and Sanji acted without really thinking, without being certain of anything other than that he didn’t want Zoro to leave. He reached out, hand grabbing Zoro’s arm, and tugged him back, planting a brief kiss on his lips. He hadn’t meant to do it. Kissing was something he hadn’t planned to ever get into with Zoro. He was tempted to tell the guy to forget it’d even happened…but he couldn’t. Not with the way Zoro was looking at him. And certainly not when Zoro took Sanji’s face in both hands and kissed him in return, in a way Sanji had never been kissed before. It was a kiss so passionate, so desperate, so grateful that it more than made up for-and more than explained-the weird way Zoro had been acting.
That kiss sealed Sanji’s fate. It wasn’t just sex anymore and it would never be just sex ever again. And Sanji would have to live with that, because he’d never be able to take it back now.
Luckily for Zoro, Sanji was just fine with that.
It didn’t affect the act itself. Zoro flawlessly kept up the fast and hard rhythm they’d established in the beginning, hitting that spot that made Sanji see stars with almost every thrust. His hand on Sanji’s cock was rough and smooth in just the right places and the torturous way his strokes quickened and slowed, quickened and slowed, keeping him constantly on edge, was driving him absolutely crazy.
But it was the little things that alerted Sanji. He could feel Zoro’s mouth hovering over the junction where neck became shoulder, which wasn’t unusual. But normally, Zoro would’ve bitten down by now. Sanji would’ve protested, because it was expected, but at the same time he would’ve been arching into the attention and Zoro would’ve chuckled smugly around the flesh in his mouth.
And Zoro was too quiet. He wasn’t loud in bed-or, rather, in pantry-but he wasn’t a fucking mute. Sanji had reveled in the little groans and grunts he’d been able to wrench out of the stoic swordsman, but the most he got now was faint, labored breathing against the back of his neck.
It was kind of pissing him off.
But he couldn’t exactly confront the other man about it in this position.
“Zoro, wh-nngh!” was as far as he got before Zoro hit that spot again, and again, and again, rendering him-well, not exactly silent, especially not when Zoro gripped his jerking erection hard and pumped him through to completion. He slumped against the pantry wall with a moan, feeling the fingers on Zoro’s other hand dig into the skin of his hips as the swordsman came, pulsing, inside him.
Zoro pulled out a second later and Sanji grimaced at the feeling before turning around. Zoro was pulling his pants back up, his eyes fixed disinterestedly on the floor. He looked like he’d just finished a chore or something, like washing the dishes or tidying up the bunkroom. Sanji hated it.
“What’s your problem, marimo?”
“No problem,” Zoro grunted, looking up when he’d finished fastening his pants.
Sanji recognized the look the swordsman was giving him. It was his defiant, got-something-to-prove-while-still-not-giving-a-fuck-what-you-think expression and Sanji was used to it. But there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes, something unhappy, something that made Sanji’s chest hurt in a weird way. It was a flicker of something Sanji had been dreading since they’d started, something he thought that maybe-with Zoro-he could avoid. But obviously he was wrong.
Zoro turned to leave and Sanji acted without really thinking, without being certain of anything other than that he didn’t want Zoro to leave. He reached out, hand grabbing Zoro’s arm, and tugged him back, planting a brief kiss on his lips. He hadn’t meant to do it. Kissing was something he hadn’t planned to ever get into with Zoro. He was tempted to tell the guy to forget it’d even happened…but he couldn’t. Not with the way Zoro was looking at him. And certainly not when Zoro took Sanji’s face in both hands and kissed him in return, in a way Sanji had never been kissed before. It was a kiss so passionate, so desperate, so grateful that it more than made up for-and more than explained-the weird way Zoro had been acting.
That kiss sealed Sanji’s fate. It wasn’t just sex anymore and it would never be just sex ever again. And Sanji would have to live with that, because he’d never be able to take it back now.
Luckily for Zoro, Sanji was just fine with that.