New Life

Title: New Life: Chapter 19
Author: Genuinelie(s)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. And you know, I can't say I'm terribly sorry - the current owners seem to be doing a pretty nifty job so far, ne?

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Chapter Nineteen
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"If you want to come over here, you should come over here, cook."

The words were said quietly, but it was more than enough to make Sanji almost fall off the chair.

He had come back to the doctor's quarters almost immediately after the cake was gone, one large piece saved out for the swordsman. The man was asleep when Sanji returned, and so he'd set it aside to sit in the wooden chair by the bed. He'd been observing the gentle rise and fall of the man's still-well-muscled chest ever since. It was already nearing midnight, the moonlight focused into a narrow point by Sanji's feet, filtered through a small hole in the ceiling.

Sanji swallowed, his throat dry. Did the swordsman know what he was asking? Or was he half-asleep?

Despite their little chat, despite Zoro practically having him in front of the entire crew earlier that day, Sanji still had his doubts. He knew it might be stupid of him, but no one spent a year and a half in a marine jail without changing at least a little. And even if the man did still want him - who was Sanji to say that he deserved him?

"You're making me...uncomfortable...staring at me like that." The smile in Zoro's voice, mixed in with other things, stated plainly to Sanji that he knew exactly what it was implying.

"You're recovering," Sanji said half-heartedly. When the hell did he get all this self-control? It had been too long. He was almost weak with the wanting of it, the confirmation that once and for all that he had Zoro back. He swallowed again, eyes never leaving the swordsman's face. The man still had his eyes closed.

One lid cracked, a gleam in the darkness. "Hm."

Suddenly, an arm shot out, grabbing Sanji by his pantleg. He went down with a startled "oof!", his head protected from hitting the floor too hard by Zoro's hand.

"You fucker!" He hissed, scrambling to get up.

But Zoro was on him, straddling his squirming legs.

God damn it.

Even starved, the swordsman was too strong for Sanji to throw off. Trapped against him like this, Sanji realized he wasn't as emaciated as he thought. He felt strong muscle slide under the other man's skin, as well as the telling hardness that grew to press against his own.

"Don't tell me you don't want this anymore." Zoro was staring at his face, a grim, feral smile stretching his lips, but Sanji could hear the question in the seemingly absolute statement. Could see the uncertain sheen in his eyes, underneath the layers of want and smug confidence.

Zoro was as unsure as he was.

"Yes, I still want you," Sanji hissed. "Baka." He lurched up and claimed Zoro's lips, harshly pressing them together. To hell with this. Finally he found a good hold on the swordsman, and with one smooth push of his feet flung the other man backwards onto the bed. Before he could recover, Sanji was on him, kissing the slightly stubbled skin beneath his ear down to the smooth stretch of his collarbone. He dragged his tongue across his throat and was rewarded with a groan and a subtle shudder.

"You have no idea how I want you, you idiot marimo." Sanji bit out, nipping lightly, possessively, even as he edged the swordsman's shirt above his head.

Was Zoro trembling?

Must be his imagination.

"It was hell." Sanji spat. "Because of that damned hunk of metal, and your complete lack of common sense."

Zoro had tensed at the insult to his precious sword. Sanji didn't care. He silenced whatever comeback was on the swordsman's tongue with a fierce kiss, forcing the man's hands above his head when he struggled a little. Sanji knew Zoro could easily throw him off - it was a tribute to his survival instinct that he didn't.

He had been a complete wreck when Robin found him, a short number of months ago. He realized that now. He didn't know what would have happened if she hadn't, but he knew that at the time he had been lost. There hadn't been anything left. Even his dreams, All Blue, his restaurant, were hollow victories without his nakama. What was the point, if he was only living for himself?

Zoro had pushed Sanji's tongue back into his mouth and was now gripping the back of his head, bodies pressing flush against one another and burning with shared heat. Zoro had managed to hook a leg around the back of Sanji's knee and was slowly dragging his hips between Sanji's thighs and up across Sanji's own. Finally, they broke away to catch their breath, lips still almost touching.

Fuck. Their cheeks were damp. Old age had made them into women.

"Too many clothes," Zoro hissed out.

Sanji couldn't have agreed with him more. He arched his back, allowing Zoro access to his belt, as he pushed down the tatters of Zoro's pants.

"I -mmf-" Zoro tried to talk at the same time he kissed Sanji's neck.

The cook chuckled at him. "Can't do two things at once, baka."

He was rewarded with an ungentle nip. He gasped.

Zoro, it seemed, remembered everything. All the little spots on Sanji that were the most sensitive. He squirmed with the sensation, Zoro's hands, mouth, tongue everywhere, clothes finally falling off their bodies. He sighed, Zoro echoing him, as skin met skin.

Sanji ducked, capturing Zoro's mouth, sliding in his tongue with little resistance, dueling with the other man's once inside. He broke away with a gasp, trying to squirm out from under Zoro.

"Where -" Zoro actually sounded worried. Sanji bit back a mood-killing laugh.

Sanji put a hand on top of Zoro's head for leverage, stretching back to reach the drawer of the desk at the foot of the bed. Rooted around in it as Zoro protested, hair being mussed hapahazardly as he struggled to get Sanji back down.

Finally he found what he was looking for, showing it to Zoro with a smirk. "Impatient idiot." He said. He squeezed some of the massage oil onto his palm, went for Zoro's arousal but was stopped halfway by Zoro's hand. He looked up, openly surprised.

Zoro's eyes were hooded. He guided Sanji's hand slowly back to his own body.

Sanji sucked in a breath. He had before, but it wasn't usual. "Zoro-" he started.

Zoro silenced him with a forceful kiss, and kept his hands on his own, guiding Sanji's hands down his own length. Sanji writhed, feeling the swordsman shudder as his hips dragged over his erection.

"Zoro," Sanji breathed, "you sure?"

But Zoro was already positioning himself. "Baka!" Sanji hissed. "Not yet!"

The other man was lowering himself. With a muttered curse, Sanji slapped some of the oil into his palm, letting it drip down his fingers, not willing to think about the mess there would be to clean up the next morning. He hastily slid his hand between their bodies, between Zoro's thighs, not letting the other man continue unprepared. "Wait," he said.

Zoro was already gasping, Sanji's fingers finding the right spot almost immediately. "See?" he said, a small smile to his voice. He licked the juncture between Zoro's neck and his jaw, up the soft, hollow line of skin to right under his ear.

"Enough," Zoro growled.

Sanji tended to agree. He slid his fingers out, wrapping them instead around Zoro's hard length even as the swordsman impaled himself, faster than Sanji would have. It took all his willpower not to thrust upwards into the green-haired man's wet heat. He held himself still until Zoro began to thrust on him, forcing Sanji to pick up the rhythm. He gripped the swordsman's cock, matching the movement of their hips, stroking under and over and across the tip with smooth motions that left Zoro near breathless, panting against his cheek.

Sanji captured his mouth again, sharing their limited breath.

Gods, but he had missed this.

Missed Zoro. So much that it almost physcally hurt.

Sanji threaded his fingers through Zoro's hair, now long enough now to bury his digits in the surprisingly soft strands. Zoro's hands ran up and down Sanji's sides, over his shoulders and down his chest. It was if the other man was trying to memorize his body by touch.

"I love you," Sanji suddenly hissed, even as the white heat began to envelope his senses.

They came at the same time, bodies shuddering within one another, hands clenching at the other's skin.

Zoro smiled against his cheek, collapsing as Sanji slowly slid out of him. He rolled to the side, but kept his arms firmly circled around Sanji's back and waist.

"Always have," Zoro said softly.

*****

Sanji fluttered open his eyes, peering blearily into the dark. He couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour. His body still tingled with a pleasant ache, a lingering contented exhaustion filming his consciousness.

The bed was curiously empty of the swordsman.

Still warm, though.

Damned marimo. He had better just be relieving himself, because if Sanji found him doing katas in the middle of the night -

A sudden, loud clang echoed from the deck, jarring and discordant in the still of the night. It was the sound of steel on steel.

Sword on sword.

Baka. He was out there practicing. In the middle of the night. That damned marimo really -

There it was again, high and tinny, this time accompied by voices.

Sanji's heart lept suddenly up his throat. The idiot wasn't alone? It wasn't one of their crew, none of them would be stupid enough to challenge the swordsman.

That would mean...

Marines? Pirates?

It was enough to make Sanji roll quickly to his feet, despite the warm cocoon of the covers.

A rapid flashback to another fight, one where he had gotten himself skewered, as Zoro had put it, prompted Sanji to run out the door of the doctor's quarters without bothering to find his shoes.

This time, he didn't linger in the entrance. A quick glance showed him the deck was clear, except for two people on the stern, frozen maybe two feet apart, the outline of three swords crossed against a single one visible in the dim light of the moon.

In the water, something was emitting a soft green glow. It bathed the hull in an aura of eery light, making it seem haunted, like a ghost ship. The black depths of the ocean reflected it upwards, also haunted.

"I said I do not wish to fight you." The voice was strongly flavored with an accent, lilting and clipped at the same time. There was a long silence.

"You said one more fight." The low hiss was unmistakably Zoro.

"Ah, but I have changed my mind. It has been too long. I no longer care."

"I would have come." Zoro's voice was raising in pitch. "I was in a marine cell."

Suddenly Sanji felt sick to his stomach. Seemed to be happening a lot lately.

How?

How did Mihawk find them? That was, unmistakably, who Zoro had locked swords with. The accent, that ridiculous green glow, as if from a dream, a part of Sanji's past that had faded to a distant memory, a vague impression of another life.

Not now. Zoro would fight him, well or not. Strong or not.

And he would die.

Sanji's hands fisted by his side, powerless to interfere, unable to walk forward.

A low chuckle drifted over the warm, still air. "Ah, you are that little mouse that watched our first...enounter, no?" Mihawk hadn't turned his head. "The cook that found himself trying to taste someone else's stew."

Sanji clenched his teeth, not trusting himself to speak.

"Tell your lover that this fight is not for him."

Sanji started at that. Zoro didn't even blink, focused with his considerable singlemindedness on his old rival.

How had the man known?

"It's not enough," Zoro finally said, when Sanji stayed silent.

"You won," Mihawk said. "You bested me. What else could you possibly want for?"

A muscle twitched in Zoro's cheek. "One more. One more chance. It could have been..."

It could have been luck. Sanji heard the unspoken words.

Where the hell was the rest of the crew? They could take him. With Zoro, they could -

But no. This was Zoro's fight.

Zoro's choice.

Sanji felt, oddly, like he was seeing something unspeakably private. But there was no where for him to go. He couldn't leave, he couldn't leave Zoro to fight this man alone.

How had he found them?

"No." Mihawk said, simply.

He lowered his sword.

Zoro stayed tensed, and Sanji could see he was ready to attack anyway. To force Mihawk to fight, regardless of whether it was suicide.

Zoro, however, stayed where he was. Frozen in place, even as Mihawk turned and was gone. Simply dropped over the side of the railing in one fluid motion, his cape swirling like a wraith after him.

The green light faded, clear moonlight washing the deck in a clean white sheen.

Just like he had never been there.

Sanji still couldn't move. Zoro's shoulders were slumping, his third sword still gripped between his teeth even as the other two, borrowed from someone on the ship, dragged on the boards of the deck.

The realization hit Sanji hard.

He had been so blind.

Zoro's dream -

Just as empty as his own.

A humorless giggle lodged in his throat. How had he not seen it?

What was left for the swordsman?

An echo of Robin's voice, "We all found our dreams too young, Sanji."

All of them.

Fairy tales always ended at the dreams. With the heroes sailing off into the sunset, goals achieved, contented and accomplished.

They never followed to the morning after. The years after. No fairy tales ever accounted for what happens to the heroes, after the adventure ends.

Sanji took a hesitant step forward, almost without realizing it.

Zoro looked up at him. Sanji stopped. It wasn't what he had expected to see.

Contentment.

Peace.

Zoro grinned at him, and then Sanji saw the slight sadness as well.

Acceptance.

It was over.

Zoro looked back out, over the water. His shoulders straightened, as if some unseen weight was suddenly gone.

Sanji stayed for a moment more, silently watching the other man, before he turned back to his bed.

*****