Ordinary Day

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Characters belong to Eichiirou Oda.
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“It’s not like we’re keeping secrets.”

“Nah.” Casual as could be, just like always. “We don’t have to.”

“Just a matter of privacy.”

“Sure.” The indulgent smile was dazzling, and Zoro couldn’t help but grin in return, something tightening gladly in his chest.

“Hey- hey, lookit that!” Just like that, Luffy was bent backwards over the railing he’d been sitting on, one hand holding on his hat and the other grabbing insistently at the sleeve of Zoro’s shirt. “It’s a dolphin- look, Zoro, dolphin!”

“We saw five this morning.” He wasn’t about to look. Salt spray in the eyes was enough to teach you, after about the fifth time. “You’re going to fall.”

“No I’m not- and it’s a weird one, all little- maybe it’s a baby!” Luffy tugged harder, nearly knocking him off balance. “C’mon and look, Zoro, he wants to say hi!”

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he gave up and leaned over to look. It probably said something about him that he was even surprised when there was no dolphin, just a fish. He was even more startled when a hand grabbed the back of his head and a mouth covered his- consequently, he banged a knee into the railing and nearly bit his tongue through. Luffy dissolved into paroxysms of laughter, and he tried to scowl but ended up wincing, dragging himself back up and sliding to the deck.

“Sorry- does it hurt?” Luffy was wiping tears of merriment from his eyes as he leaned over Zoro’s shoulder, prodding at his knee.

“No,” he grunted, slapping his hands away, trying to fight back a flush of embarrassment. “How much of a wuss do you think I am?”

“Not much of one,” Luffy said solemnly, eyes sparkling. Zoro gave him a good glare, then stood cautiously. No damage, just a shock. How bad would it look, the fearsome Roronoa Zoro, laid flat by a knee bruise?

Luffy’s hand closed on his wrist, tugging slightly- more gently now, he noticed with something of a scowl. “Just as well. I think it’s lunchtime, c’mon.”

He followed obediently, just like always. Luffy led, his hand on his hat and his eyes to the horizon, and they fell in line behind him- behind their captain.

Zoro had always viewed himself as a loner, a solitary swordsman on a dark path with no allegiances but to himself and to his vows and so on and so forth, the kind of guy you’d read about in action comics. That was at least who he’d thought he would become, and he’d seemed well on his way. Until the noon sun had silhouetted a ratty straw hat and the glimmering, wide eyes beneath had transfixed him, he’d been alone, and now…

Now he couldn’t get a minute to himself.

“Sanji! Sanjiiiiiiii-! Is lunch ready?” Luffy’s fingers squeezed sharply on his wrist and then were gone, rubber limbs winding around the cook in an attempt to get into the bubbling pots. Zoro shook his head, then took his place at the small table, yawning profusely and resolving to sneak in a few minutes of nap before food was served.

Lunch ended up being fish. Just regular fillets for them, and something that looked like it had crawled bodily out of a royal buffet for Nami and Robin. Not that he was complaining too much- whatever Sanji had made out of the vegetables from the last town for dinner last night was still rumbling somewhere in the corner of his stomach.

Eating was a noisy affair on the whole, until dessert (pudding, today, it was Thursday) was served, and it was ‘learn about what’s happening in the world, you ungrateful wretches’ time, brought to them as it was every day by Nami’s newspaper delivery. It hadn’t even really occurred to Zoro that, as wanted criminals, they should probably be aware of political climate and laws being passed that related to law enforcement- that was, of course, until the crash course in current events the navigator had put them through last week. A few more days, and everyone but Nami and possibly the cook would forget about it… but until then, they had to be polite and attentive or no one was getting cake after dinner.

“The Marines caught the Doubloon Fist crew in North Blue… it says here they used another one of those border traps. Usopp, you do the most lookout- be on guard for a small line of fishing boats, or maybe a few buoys along a cliff. One of those could take us out, no problem, and we can’t afford that. It might be a good idea to do more rowing around shaded areas like that, so we can take down the sail…” She trailed off into thoughtful silence, stirring her fruit drink with the straw.

“The Doubloon Fist, eh? I’ve had quite the tussle with them in my day… they wear those giant belts made of gold coins around their waists, so all I had to do was rip it off and beat them over the head with it, then they were helpless- ‘Don’t hurt us, mighty Captain Usopp!’ they’d cry, ‘we’re stunned by your awesome physique’-”

“Uwaaaaah, that’s so cool!”

“Chopper, don’t listen to him. He’d never been out of East Blue until he hitchhiked his way on board.”

“I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS MY SHIP!”

Like any other meal, it had degenerated fast from a regular, businesslike meeting to screaming, laughing, and the occasional bits of thrown food. It was all fun and games until someone got a bit of half-digested trout in their eye, which only led to some creative cursing and frantic scrabbling at his cornea.

“Zoro, you okay?” Luffy was laughing still, smacking him soundly on the back, as though trying to shake the fish out with sheer force.”Don’t hurt your eye!”

“I’d be fine if you’d learn to keep your goddamn food in your mouth- ow, stoppit!” He threw an elbow into Luffy’s side, if just to make him stop. One more smack on the back and he was probably going to end up stabbing himself in the pupil trying to get the invading substance out. His esteemed captain collapsed into convulsions of giggles, slumping over the back of the bench.

It took only a few more rubs of his knuckle, and then he was draped over the table, tears flooding from the injured eye, frame vibrating with helpless laughter. It was ridiculous that they were all so happy. It was stupid, it was naïve, but they couldn’t spend more than a few minutes together without falling so desperately in love with life that they could only laugh, cry, hold onto each other, dance and get drunk.

And somehow, it always came back to him. It always came back to this strange creature that was now sprawled over his back, laughing on his shoulder, hands kneading into his sides. They wouldn’t fall to pieces without his presence, but they wouldn’t be there without him, either.

Zoro wasn’t one to analyze. He didn’t sit up at night wondering why things had happened as they had, what might have gone differently. Things just were as they were, and that was fine with him. Why were these people, of all people, his friends? They just were. They were the people Luffy had found, the people who had found themselves in this place the same way he had. In some way, they were all the same. Handpicked.

But still, the boy with the hat had made it very clear the first time he’d ever seen him- ’I want you’, he had said. Not ‘your skills’, not ‘your name’, not ‘your reputation’. ‘You’.

Of course, it had been ‘I want you to come with me’, then. It hadn’t been until later that Luffy had looked him in the eyes with that earthshaking sincerity and said ‘Zoro, I want you.’

I want you. I need you. I love you. Words that came so easily, but with so much meaning that it ripped him in two. Just like the hands that skimmed over his sides, tugging at his belt loops- gentle, even docile, but with enough power to reduce the indomitable Roronoa Zoro to shivers, to sighs, to eager submission. To the kinds of feelings and thoughts that little kids found in storybooks.

“You awake down there?” The prodding against one shoulder brought Zoro back to reality, the reality of his cheek lying flat against a butter knife, the reality of a squealing reindeer rolling across the table as arms grew out of the wood to tickle him… the reality that he had dish duty after dinner, goddammit, which he’d managed to forget about until Usopp set into complaining about cleaning after lunch.

“No, I’m asleep,” he muttered, wishing he was.

“Okay,” Luffy said placidly, laying against his back. Zoro snorted and closed his eyes, absurdly comfortable and already dozing off. He wasn’t lazy… the kind of training he did required a lot of sleep and food. No one seemed to understand that. He had plenty of good excuses for napping all the time.

The after-meal bustle of the hold died down to a dull murmur, and he sighed slowly, shoulders falling to rest on the table. Everything was far away, the world constricting to the warmth on his back, the heartbeat running steady against a shoulder blade, the steady breathing that rose and fell, the sudden explosion of heat in his groin what the-

His first reaction was- well, his second reaction, after the overly-pleasant rush of adrenaline down his spine, was confusion with a heady touch of mortification. It was a hand, he knew that much- a hand rolling its palm along the inside seam of his pants, massaging the thigh with fingertips and cupping him with the heel. Chopper didn’t have hands like that, the cook was at the sink, Nami was holding her newspaper with both hands, Usopp was at the sink too, Robin had both her hands on her book and showed no signs of having sprouted any more, though he wouldn’t put it past her, the sly bitch- obviously Luffy was the likely culprit, but he was on his back, facing the ceiling, and there was no way humanly possible that he could reach without breaking his shoulders, and-

Of course, any logical explanation flew out the proverbial window the second Luffy started snickering, just loud enough that Zoro could hear him. Being nearly asleep had apparently rendered him just stupid enough to forget that anatomical rules didn’t apply to someone made of rubber. He just kept on chortling, even when Zoro growled at him, squirming around to whisper in his ear “hey, Zoro, Zoro, gomu gomu no-”

“Oh, shuddup,” was all he could manage before choking. Luffy didn’t bother to take the hint, but kept rubbing his palm over him, artfully easing the tip of his middle finger along the zipper with each upstroke. Zoro bit down hard on his lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of making a fuss- he could hold it down just as well as anybody. If he could nearly die and not make a sound, he could certainly handle just one hand, just one slow, rhythmic hand rolling over him like the waves slapping on the hull… He just had to breathe, just had to breathe normally and get air in past the twisting in his chest, the weight in his stomach, the groan struggling to escape his throat.

“Zoro… Zoro, are you all right? You look very flushed… Did the fish not agree with you?” Chopper’s tinny voice was very far away but very concerned, and that meant he had to open an eye.

“’M fine. Just tired. Drank too much.” Zoro waved a hand, trying to shoo the little doctor away. “Just fine. Don’t worry.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Luffy chimed in, voice tremulous with laughter. “Maybe you should, I dunno… go lie down?”

The innuendo fairly dripped from each word, Luffy’s fingers still rubbing against him with enough pressure to make him tremble. Zoro briefly considered just socking him a good one, then realized with some disappointment that he would have to explain himself afterwards.

“It might not be a bad idea, you know,” Nami added absently from somewhere across the table. “The last thing we need is someone getting sick and infecting everyone else.”

“Exactly!” Damn that little reindeer for being so sincere.

“Yeah, exactly. C’mon, Zoro, I’ll walk you out.” Luffy was going to explode into tiny bits of sadistic amusement any second now, he could feel it. Sure, he would just have loved to get up and leave, and if it wasn’t for the fairly obvious hardon he was sporting, he would have done it some time ago, and thrown Luffy overboard for good measure.

He would have murdered him millions of times over by now, if he didn’t love him so desperately.

“I’ll get up in a minute, lemme get my breath back.” Fine, he’d play Luffy’s game. Maybe playing sick would get him a few days’ peace without resorting to sleeping in the cargo hold. By the grace of whatever power there was, Luffy sprang off his back and to the door, no doubt grinning like an idiot, pleased with himself to no end. With him gone, the only thing left to do was calm down. Quickly, and completely.

“Sanji, if you got really desperate, would you sleep with that- oh, what was her name- that lady from Drum Island, what was her name, Chopper?”

“NOT DOCTORINE!”

That did it. Zoro took a deep breath, then pushed himself up from the table, rubbing his eyes irritably. A good long nap somewhere that wasn’t the deck would probably do him some good, faked illness or no faked illness. He picked his way out of the tiny dining area, then pushed through the door. Luffy was waiting outside, sprawled over the railing. He looked up with a lazy grin, eerily reminiscent of an alley cat that had trapped its first dinner in a week.

“Proud of yourself, Captain?” Zoro raised an eyebrow at him, then set off for the spare room Chopper had commandeered as an infirmary. Luffy matched pace with him easily, arms locking casually behind his head.

“Not really… not yet.” Luffy grinned disarmingly. “Should I be?”

“No,” Zoro scolded, eyeing him suspiciously. He knew that look. He’d learned that look their first night in the Arabastan desert; that time it had ended up with sand in more places than he’d ever really believed sand could be, not to mention a bad case of the giggles the next morning when Chopper complained about nonexistent coyotes making enough noise to wake the dead all through the night. “What do you mean, ‘not yet’?”

“I mean not yet, that’s what I mean. C’mon, it’s hot out here.” Luffy grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the darkened infirmary, pulling the heavy door shut behind them. Zoro reached up to turn on the light, only to get his wrist slapped.

“Luffy-”

The protest stopped before it even really began, his mouth slacking into a sigh as Luffy’s hands ran up his back, squeezing his shoulders and pulling him down. There was always something like desperation behind his kisses, something that heated him like a volcano and sent quivers down Zoro’s spine. Luffy’s mouth was wet and demanding, body tight to his, shifting with every breath.

“Chopper’s gonna come in to check me out any minute,” he mumbled, barely able to hear himself over the pounding in his ears. “You’re gonna traumatize him.”

“If he comes in, I’ll stop.” His tongue slicked over Zoro’s lower lip, marking a trail before his teeth closed onto the vulnerable skin just underneath his jaw.

“No, you won’t.” Zoro could feel his eyelids flutter, chest shuddering as he drew in a sharp breath. This was a bad idea, but Luffy was close, and warm, and moving against him with no restraint, rubbing his shoulders and sucking his neck and grinding his hips, and if he tried to be logical and stoic now his entire body was going to rebel.

Then Luffy was hanging onto him with one arm, arching his back just enough to wriggle a hand down between them. Zoro grabbed him reflexively, and was glad he’d done so when Luffy forwent the zipper entirely and just shoved his fingers past the waistband.

“Shit,” Zoro said intelligently, then bit back a whimper as the long fingers curled around him, idly tracing the line of a vein and then plunging down without warning to firmly stroke the base, tugging and pumping hard to the rhythm of the hips still gyrating into his.

It always went like this… Luffy took charge, and Zoro melted under his hands like a blushing houseboy. Even now, his head rolling back against the wall while he panted for air, his knees buckling, he was helpless, submitting, and he’d be damned if he didn’t love every last second of it. Roronoa Zoro, famed pirate hunter of East Blue, pirate with a sizable bounty, planning on becoming the greatest swordsman in the world, biting the back of his hand and moaning, only held up by the leg braced between his thighs… what a sight he had to be…

Luffy was whispering against his neck, sometimes incomprehensible, sometimes pleas, sometimes curses, his thin hips jerking against Zoro’s as he ground into the back of his own hand. “Want you,” he breathed out, tightening his grip until Zoro yelped, thrusting against his palm. “Want you so bad… Zoro…”

“Luffy- oh, God, I-”

“Zoro, I’m coming in!” piped a cheery little voice.

Zoro couldn’t remember the last time he’d moved so fast.

By the time the door creaked open, he’d rolled onto one of the mattresses and burrowed into a sheet. Zoro rubbed his eyes furiously until they watered- the more pathetic he looked, the better. Chopper was famously passive-aggressive about these things, and an incensed doctor was the last thing they needed in such an enclosed space.

“I heard some thumping, is everything okay?” Chopper’s round eyes shone in the darkness. “Why’s the light off…?”

“I’m resting,” Zoro said grumpily, heart still pounding away. “Hurts my eyes.”

“Oooh…” Hooves clacked over the wooden planks, and Zoro tried to breathe, forcing back the frustrated arousal that continued to beg for attention, and now. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry…”

“Nah, I kept him up,” Luffy chimed in from across the room. Zoro twitched and seriously considered throwing something. Little paw-hands patted over his forehead, then his throat and his chest, and Chopper clucked disapprovingly in the back of his throat.

“Your pulse is racing and you’re sweating a fair bit… doesn’t feel like a fever, though. Is it hard to breathe?”

“No, not really.” He was indeed having a bit of difficulty, but it had nothing to do with his lungs and everything to do with the hungry stare boring into the back of his head.

“Hmm… well, all right then.” He could almost hear the little doctor’s brain whirring. “I’ll go check my books, but I think you just need a little rest from your training.” Zoro quailed a little at the disapproval that smothered those words, and put on a show of nodding and looking ashamed. “Luffy, do you mind watching him for a while, just while I’m gone, in case he is actually ill and something happens?”

“Sure, I was gonna anyway.” There was a thump as Luffy hopped down from whatever he’d been perched on, and the thin mattress dipped as he sat next to Zoro’s leg. A hand squeezed his knee, and Zoro quirked a faint grin in his direction.

“Thank you… just rest, Zoro. I’ll be back to check on you later.” Light spilled into the room as the door was pulled back open.

“You’re a lifesaver, Chopper.”

“Shut uppp-! I’m not doing it because I like you-!” With a wiggle and a happy squeal, the door shut and they were alone in the dark again.

“See? If you don’t give Chopper people to take care of, he gets bored.” Luffy hugged onto Zoro’s knee, stroking his leg fondly. “We’re doing him a favor, really.”

“You’re just always serving your public, aren’t you.” Zoro ruffled his shaggy dark hair, letting him know just what he thought of that excuse. Luffy grinned, shameless. “Where’s your hat?” he asked as an afterthought, only noticing the trademark after it hadn’t gotten in his way.

“Hat’s on the table.” Luffy indicated the direction with a jerk of his chin, then leaned back on his knee. “The top ripped again… I need to get Nami to fix him.”

“How’d you do that?” Zoro leaned back onto the thin pillows, stretching his legs out. Robbed of his leaning post, Luffy frowned a little but moved to pillow his head on Zoro’s stomach without a word of complaint.

“I dunno, probably when we were moving the boom yesterday.” Luffy smoothed a hand over his chest, stroking out a few of the wrinkles in the old white shirt. They were quiet for a long while after that, spread over the mattress like two dead weights. A few weeks before, they would have been on the floor; the makeshift cots had been ‘borrowed’ in the dead of the night from the last inn they’d stayed at. Probably another town that wouldn’t serve pirates again, but they should have known better in the first place.

Luffy’s fingertips stroked over his cheek, and he caught his wrist, squeezing and feeling the thin, birdlike bones bending under his touch. He looked deceptively fragile, but Luffy was the classic example of bend before you break; there was a pretty solid chance that he could take more damage than any of them could ever deal out.

Luffy was simply gazing at him, bright stare unwavering. Were it anyone else, it would have been more than a little unnerving, but he’d come to expect this sort of thing from Luffy, the sort of unabashed curiosity and fascination.

“You remember how we met, Zoro?” The mattress creaked as Luffy wriggled up next to him, resting his forehead in the crook of his neck, laying across his waist. Zoro slid an arm easily around his back to hold him there, the wiry frame fitting comfortably against him.

“I don’t forgot my near-death experiencs,” he responded, then was rewarded by a soft chuckle smothered into his collarbone. “Of course I remember… why?”

“Just wondering.” Luffy stroked a palm flat over his chest. “’Cause, I was thinking… just remembering the way you looked at me.”

“Like you were crazy?” Zoro closed his eyes with a faint smile.

“Yeah, like ’who’s this crazy kid in a hat standing in my sun and saying I’m cool?’” He laughed again, softly. “I must’ve looked pretty nuts.” There wasn’t a shred of self-deprecation or discomfort in his words, just a gleeful acknowledgment.

“Yeah,” Zoro agreed, idly rubbing at the base of Luffy’s neck. “I thought you were off your rocker, but…”

“But…?”

“It was like I…” His voice dropped, softening in something suspiciously like embarrassment. “Almost like I could see the rest of my life in your face, like either I went with you and took everything I could see, or it… it would just be gone. Like everything I could be was wrapped up in you, somehow.”

Luffy was quiet for a moment, just pressing a kiss into the hollow of his throat and squeezing his shoulder. It was hard to know how things like that affected him- just the acknowledgement of how important he was, the differences he had made just by existing in the right place and the right time. Maybe it shook him a little, and that was why he’d fallen so silent. Maybe he was just thinking of what to say.

“I love you,” he said softly, genuinely. “I love you so much, Zoro.”

That was enough, somehow. So he smiled, squeezed him around the waist, and just nodded. “I know,” he said calmly. “Yeah, I know.”

“That’s all that’s important, right?” There was a strange quality invading his voice, something like uncertainty, worry…? “That you know, and I know?”

Zoro opened one eye to a slit, peering down at the top of his head in moderate confusion. “Luffy… what are you talking about?”

And then his index finger was tracing patterns over his stomach, and that meant Luffy was unsure, or nervous. He’d learned that much by now, when it always came paired with either uncomfortable questions or gut-wrenching confessions of the highest order.

“Well… it’s not like I think anyone would be mad, or even really care that much, but… and maybe it’s just that I’m thinking too much, and I’m not really that good at it after all, and well, I just don’t think that-”

“Luffy.” Zoro covered his mouth, and big eyes regarded him mournfully. “Just spit it out.”

“I don’t want anybody to think I’m playing favorites!” The words burst out the second he removed his hand, paired with a pout pitiful enough to wring tears from a rock. “I mean, I really really like everybody, you know that, but obviously you’re different…” The babbling trailed off, stopping as suddenly as it had started, and Luffy simply flopped back onto his chest like all his energy had been expended.

“Luffy…” He patted him lightly on the cheek, tugging lightly at the skin and watching it spring back into place. “You think anyone’s really gonna care? I mean, have you seen how bad the cook plays favorites when it comes to our food? You’d think if anybody was gonna complain, it’d be about that.”

“But…” Luffy sighed heavily, drooping a little. “It’s different. Sanji’s… well, Sanji, you know? And I’m… I’m captain, I have to be fair.”

Zoro blinked, then took full stock of the hangdog expression. “This… this is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he queried in slight disbelief.

“Well, yeah!” Luffy scowled, a bit peevishly. “I think about stuff too, y’know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Zoro ran a hand along the curve of his back, thinking. He wasn’t exactly the best person to ask about these things… neither was Luffy, on the other hand. Or Usopp, or Chopper, definitely not Nami or Robin, and he’d be damned before he asked the cook anything this sensitive.

“Well,” he finally continued, unsure, “you said that… you said you didn’t want a crew, you wanted friends? Right?”

“Well, yeah!” Luffy cocked his head, with his ‘isn‘t that obvious?’ expression. “I don’t wanna order people around or anything, just… have people to help, when I can’t do things myself.”

“So, if you’re not giving orders, then you aren’t captaining, right?” Zoro shrugged a little. “Aren’t all of the positions we’re supposed to have just what we’d do anyway, what we’re good at? Hell, I don’t think I even have a ‘position’, do I? We’re all just here, together.”

“Well, yeah…” Luffy stopped to consider, fingers wandering idly over one shoulder. “I… Well, yeah, you’re right. If we’re all just together and friends, then I don’t have to…” He paused, then nodded decisively.

“Pretty much, if you were in charge, you’d probably be playing favorites. But since I think we can all agree that you’re not, you aren’t.” Zoro grinned at him, pleased with his own logic.

“Whaddya mean I’m not in charge?!” Luffy scowled, propping himself up over Zoro. “’Course I’m in charge! I’m gonna be the Pirate King!”

“No one’s saying you aren’t. But you aren’t the boss here,” Zoro reminded, grin widening. “Just ask anybody, you don’t call the shots.”

“I do too!” he protested, hovering dangerously on the verge of another pout. “Who calls the shots if not me, huh? I’m captain!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Nami, Robin, Usopp, Chopper, Sanji… basically, everyone but you. And me,” he added as an afterthought. “I don’t call shots either, I just sleep.”

Luffy glowered. “Well, I’m the boss of you,” he said huffily. “So there.”

“You are, are you?” Zoro raised an eyebrow, amused beyond reason.

“I’ll prove it,” he warned. “You know I will. And you’ll be sorry. Because we’ll break stuff and then Nami’ll yell.”

“I don’t think you’re man enough, Monkey D. Luffy.”

As anyone could have predicted, the challenge led to a growl and a pounce, sending them rolling in a bundle of arms, legs, and one beleaguered sheet across the floor. The first time he’d provoked Luffy this far, sometime back before even Nami had joined them, he’d expected to win, hands down. Wrestling was usually a match of brute strength and some flexibility, both of which he was more than equipped with. Of course, the first time he’d ended up with an arm wrapped twice around his waist and both legs around his shoulders, he’d been forced to acknowledge a change in strategy was probably necessary.

Who knew how many matches and five new shipmates later, he still hadn’t found that strategy. It hadn’t helped that the precious theorizing time usually degenerated into attempting to deal with sexual tension so thick he’d considering swiping a katana through the air just for kicks.

Luffy was fast, there was no doubt about that- fast, and so damnably springy that trying to catch his ankle only ended in Zoro’s wrist being pinned to the floor with a knee, his legs locked hard under Luffy’s shoulders. This left one hand flailing about in a rage until Luffy caught it with his free foot, effectively pinning him down.

“You suck at wrestling,” Luffy informed him somewhat smugly.

“Oh, shut up.” Zoro thrashed a bit more, realized he was beyond hope, and went limp with defeat. “You win, you win… get off.”

“You’re no fun…” The frown on Luffy’s lips melted into a wicked grin so quickly that he had to blink to regain his composure. “Hey… I’ll let you up if you do something for me.”

Zoro eyed him suspiciously. “…What’s that?”

Luffy leered at him. “Take off your pants.”

Anyone else might have reacted badly when he burst out into hysterical laughter. Luffy only laughed with him, flopping onto his side on the ground, holding his sides. “Chopper would KILL you!” he managed to sputter out, holding a hand over his eyes. “You know how he is about things being clean, do you know what he’d do..?”

“Well, if he doesn’t like it, he can steal his own mattresses!” Luffy proclaimed, wiping tears from his eyes and grabbing firmly onto Zoro’s sleeve. “C’mon, Zoroooo, think of all I’ve done for yoooou!”

“You’ve given me more sore asses than I needed in a lifetime- oh, fine, fine, stop pulling my shirt!”

Zoro could have sworn he heard another spring break as they fell in a tangled mess on the mattress, but shrugged off the thought in favor of the fingers dragging through his hair, the mouth that found his like they’d been connected since birth. His chest heaved in a sharp, desperate breath, hands finding purchase on Luffy’s narrow waist.

“Wonder if Chopper’s gonna come back,” Luffy mumbled, nipping at his earlobe before descending to smother his neck in wet kisses.

“Don’t put the thought in my head.” A shiver ran along his spine, and he bit his lip, seeking out the warm skin below the partially-open shirt. Luffy laughed softly, the sound lower and sharper than usual, then pushed against his hands with a little sigh. Zoro eased his thumbs along the line of his bottom rib, pausing at the tensing muscles in his stomach, marveling briefly at how they shuddered and coiled. Luffy bent back, pushing insistently, arching his spine and neck backwards while his hips rolled forward. He felt himself jerk against the sudden pressure, panting, unable to look away from the inhuman grace the devil’s fruit had granted him.

“Either keep going or lemme take your shirt off,” Luffy ordered, flexing back towards him, fluid and boneless. Before he could even rally the thought necessary, impatient hands were rearranging his arms and stripping the much-abused garment off, the shirt not even making it to the floor before fingers were tracing the long scar.

“Luffy-” Whatever he’d planned on saying trailed off into a long hiss, fingers digging into Luffy’s shoulders as the tip of his tongue darted over the slightly raised tissue, and then his mouth was trailing soft, sucking kisses down the length of it, and he had no idea why it was affecting him so much but somehow it meant something more than foreplay, it was something like forgiveness and acceptance and gentleness and laughter and this was Luffy…

“Zoro.” He was breathing hard over his stomach, fingers tugging at his belt loops, then his zipper. With a fluid motion he usually associated with life or death situations, Zoro kicked off his boots, ignoring the loud thud of one hitting the door, then wriggled out of his pants as fast as he could without ripping something. Luffy met his eyes, unwavering and sure, then sat back more casually than was fair and started to strip.

Slowly.

“Luffy-” Zoro raised up on an elbow, panting, knees shaking slightly. “What the hell are you… oh, come on…”

“Shhh.” The ratty red shirt was dropped unceremoniously on his face, and Zoro sputtered, throwing it to the side. Either Luffy had been rolling around in onions and he hadn’t noticed, or the shirt hadn’t been washed since the last food fight. The smell would have been enough to kill the mood if it hadn’t been for the smirk that stretched Luffy’s cheeks, the nimble fingers undoing the top button of his cut-off jeans and slowly sliding the zipper down.

All Zoro could muster, past the labored breathing and rapid loss of rational thought, was a desperate whisper of “Luffy, now… now, please…!”

One of the advantage of rubber arms was not having to get up when you wanted something. While one hand tossed the pants the way of the shirt, the other was over on one of Chopper’s tables hunting for the gel the little reindeer always used for the particularly invasive examinations Usopp insisted were integral to his well-being. Zoro had decided a long time ago it wasn’t a good idea to ask questions, but rather just benefit from the fact that it was here and useful. After adjusting to the recoil of his arm, Luffy’s fingers were into the tube, then everywhere, cool and wet and pushing…

“You okay?” Luffy leaned down, pressing lingering kisses along his mostly-neglected arousal, slowly stretching his fingers apart at the same agonizing pace he drew his tongue from the base to the head. Fully beyond coherent speech, he just nodded, breathing quickly and trying to will him to speed up a little. In all his life, Luffy was the only one who had, at times, treated him like he could be easily hurt, like he was fragile, breakable. Usually when he least wanted him to.

Luffy’s mouth was hot and slick and taking him deep like he intended to drown him, fingers scissoring open and closed, working in and out just slowly enough to drive him insane with wanting. The world was evaporating to just this, just this desperate throbbing of need and the electricity dancing up and down his spine and pooling in the back of his throat.

“Is that good?” Luffy murmured, looking up to him with half-lidded eyes. And damn it all, Zoro whimpered, shoulders shuddering, pushing against him with all the force he could muster in his goddamn shaking legs, and it still wasn’t enough-

“I am so the boss of you,” he smirked before withdrawing his hand, patting his thigh.

“Shut up and just fuck me,” he spat out, shuddering with desperation. Luffy just smiled, that mysterious and strangely sensual smile that had hooked him from the start, then braced himself and pushed inside him with one long, easy stroke. The long, quivering gasp stopped him cold, and Zoro could make out concern past the haze of impatient lust that muddled his dark eyes. He managed some sort of platitude, some begging, pleading nonsense, and Luffy nodded- nodded, and thrust.

Being two people who fought side by side nearly every day and got very friendly in back closets all the other ones, it wasn’t hard to settle into a rhythm, the mattress creaking dangerously, limbs flung every which way. Luffy’s breath came in hot puffs against his neck, shoulders shivering under his hands, fingers digging into the mattress on either side of him. Zoro arched into him hungrily, digging his knee into Luffy’s ribcage for some measure of leverage, panting for breath and whispering his name, pressure overwhelming in his chest. Dimly, he could hear himself begin cursing aloud, gasping and yelping, jolts of fire bathing the insides of his thighs, a thin hand stroking him feverishly, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears and then-

Zoro really had no idea how long he had blacked out- it could have been an hour, it could have been a second- but when he opened his eyes again, he was exhausted, and Luffy was draped over his chest like a particularly sweaty sack of potatoes. He lifted a hand, laid it on the back of his neck and squeezed lightly.

“I love you,” he said softly.

Luffy patted his hand, then relaxed into a snore. His lips twitched tiredly, and that same warm blanket wrapped around him, taking him far away from the rolling waves, not to mention the broken mattress they were going to have to account for.

He had no idea how long they ended up sleeping, but he was more than rested when he woke. Zoro rubbed his eyes with a yawn, stretching the arm his head had been resting on and jostling Luffy with the other. He mumbled something in his sleep, then creaked open an eye with a scowl. “Probably dinnertime,” he said softly, rubbing his shoulder.

“Dinner… what’s for dinner?” Luffy struggled up on one elbow, yawning widely.

“No idea.” Zoro pawed around on the floor next to them, tossing Luffy his shirt and pants before managing to find his own. “Probably more fish, unless there’s some food stored away I don’t know about.”

“Fish is good,” Luffy said agreeably, hopping on one foot as he struggled to get his pants on, then hobbling across the room to pick up his hat. “We’ll be docking soon, though, we can pick up some more stuff, right?”

“Yeah.” Zoro fumbled at the laces of his shirt, then gave up and left them untied. “Sleep in a decent bed, maybe get some fruit or something… it’s been a while since we’ve been ashore.”

Luffy leaned over and kissed him lingeringly, still smelling of sex and sweat. “You’re great,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

Zoro let him tug him out by the wrist, wincing as the light hit his sleep-muddled eyes. Luffy let him go and moved to the railing, stretching his arms high into the air with a whoop. He was a black shape silhouetted against the early evening sunset, a mural of exuberant joy against the choppy waves, the kind of wild beauty he could never bring himself to look away from.

Luffy turned to face him, a hand on the straw brim, glimmering eyes shadowed by the light behind him. “Ready to go?” he asked with a slow grin.

“Always.”

The rest of the crew was already at the table, Usopp tinkering with some contraption while Chopper looked on in fascination, Robin reading select parts of her book to Nami as Sanji ladled out the stew. Zoro eased into the bench against the wall, yawning widely. Luffy flopped into a chair across from him, diving into a bowl that may or may not have been intended for him.

“Are you feeling any better, Zoro?” Chopper asked worriedly, cocking his head. “You look so tired…”

“Just woke up,” he explained, feeling vindicated that it was actually true this time. “I feel fine.”

“Good!” he beamed. Zoro avoided his eyes, not really wanting to think about what might happen when the happy little reindeer was going to do to him when he found out one of his sick beds was broken… not to mention the decidedly unsanitary activities going on in his infirmary, but he could hope that would remain more of a secret.

“It’s not like you do enough around here to get sick, anyway,” Nami pointed out. Zoro just ignored her, a skill he needed to practice anyway. Sanji made soothing noises and gave her some more soup.

“If you keep giving Nami all our food, she’s gonna get fat,” Luffy pointed out intelligently. “’Specially stew.”

“I am not!” Nami sputtered, flushing dangerously. “Besides- be-sides, if you keep jerking Zoro off in the kitchen, somebody’s gonna get sick!”

The silence that fell was broken only by Zoro’s choking, the swallow of stew he’d just taken lumping firmly in the back of his throat. Luffy’s eyes were as big as saucers, spoon hanging out of his mouth. Nami ‘humph’ed, elbowing Sanji for a refill on her drink. The cook complied, slightly green but not saying a word.

“Um… really?” Usopp’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Zoro nodded sourly, still coughing slightly. Luffy was still just staring blankly at the table, speechless for the first time in recent memory. “Oh! Oh, well… okay!”

“You look relieved, Mr. Sharpshooter.” Robin hadn’t even looked up from her book. “Is there something you’d like to share?” A dark eyebrow raised, though the rest of her expression didn’t change, as always. “Perhaps about your Tuesday examinations?”

Then it was Usopp’s turn to choke, and Zoro clapped him on the back, unable to hold back a hearty laugh. “How did you- what are you- hey!” came the indignant complaint. “Robiiin!”

“Have you heard tell that the walls have ears, or even eyes?” A disembodied hand patted Usopp’s elbow, then tickled Chopper’s ear for good measure.

Red faces and laughter dominated the dinner table discussion after that, just like any other meal. The measure of relief that had brightened Luffy’s eyes was impossible to measure- maybe they were destined to always have their worries extinguish like that, with the wave of a hand and a smile. Friends didn’t make you question what was most important to you.

When the bowls were empty, Usopp dragged Luffy and Chopper off for a slingshot contest, Nami retreated to her room to finish up some notes, and Robin took her nightly place in the crow’s nest. It was chore time with the cook for Zoro, a task he undertook more grudgingly than any fight he’d ever entered into.

“Don’t drop the plates,” Sanji warned, then returned to whistling. The water was hot and soapy, trickling along his wrists and dripping down to his shoes- he’d never been the most tidy at washing dishes, and he firmly believed Sanji only made him do it so he’d have to endure the rest of the night in wet pants. Why drying the plates, the obviously easier job, was always designated to whoever was to be Zoro’s partner was one of the great mysteries of his world, though it was probably pretty realistic to just pin it on spite.

They worked in blessed silence for a long time, broken only by the clink of silverware and Sanji’s cloyingly lilting “Zo~ro!” every time he passed him something to wash. It wasn’t until they got to the drink cups that the cook stopped, putting the mug he held down and turning to him, hands on hips and brow furrowed.

“In the kitchen?” he demanded, as though it were a personal affront. “My kitchen?”

“Oh, go bitch at Luffy,” Zoro snapped, mortified at the flush that rose to his cheekbones. “Besides, you just look me in the eye and say you wouldn’t have done the same if it was Nami. I dare you.”

Sanji scowled, then tossed the mug at him. “You have no aesthetic sensibility.”

Zoro watched him out of the corner of his eye. “You know, she seems a little peeved when you give Robin special snacks, too.”

“Really?!” That set him back to whistling, grinning stupidly like only a man in love knew how.

It went quickly after that, Sanji evidently feeling generous and even washing a few things himself. When the last plate was hung to drip dry against the window, Zoro wiped his hands on his pants and headed for the door, hoping he could get out before the cook tried to rope him into cleaning anything else.

“You know, Zoro…” He froze at the casual voice, then rubbed his temples. It was going to be the refrigerator again. Hadn’t they cleaned that out last week?

But no, it was only the sly smirk that he’d grown to dread. “If you ever need any advice, you know, man to man… I’m more than willing to share my wisdom. But from what Nami-san has told me, I don‘t know if I‘m particularly well-versed on your… position…”

“Oh, don’t talk to me,” Zoro snapped, red-faced, then slammed the door behind him- fast, but not fast enough to avoid the peals of laughter that followed. Damn cook, he wasn’t going to be laughing when he saw the harness and ‘apparatus’ Nami had picked up at Mirrorball Island. No, he was going to be limping and whining, and it was going to be the best payback he could imagine.

The stars and moon had come out during dinner, and the night wind had picked up, from the sounds of frustration in the makeshift slingshot arena. Zoro leaned on the railing, watching the silver light playing over the waves, the annoyance melting largely away into a quiet reverence.

This was somewhere he’d never expected to be, this place in the midst of people who laughed and cried together, fought only for the causes they believed in and refused to give up on their dreams. There had been times in his life that he’d stopped believing this kind of place, this kind of feeling, even existed outside of stories. If this was friendship, if this was love, then it was something he could live with. Not having to change, throwing all your faults and quirks out in to the middle of the ring and having them accepted, letting someone into your space in the understanding that you could share theirs.

It was a beautiful night, and in truth, he couldn’t remember the last one that hadn’t been. Even in the storms, they’d had water fights and told stories. The cold nights had brought hot chocolate and shared blankets, while the hot ones were swimming and holding Luffy above water and having races on deck. Even the days where they thought they would die, there was a string that kept them all intertwined and smiling when there was nothing else they could do.

This was the future he had grasped in his own hands, the promise he’d seen beneath a straw-brimmed hat. This laughter in the distance, these waves under his feet, the scar on his chest and the warmth in his heart. He’d given up his life the day he’d taken on his quest, but somehow taken something greater in the hand of a kid with no crew, a tiny boat, and a resolve that wouldn’t die.

“Zoro- hey, Zoro, did you see my ball go by here?” Luffy’s voice broke into his thoughts, panting with exertion but bright with the promise of mayhem. “I think Usopp threw it, but he says Chopper ate it, and I don’t believe him, so have you seen it?”

Zoro dropped a hand on top of the ratty straw hat, pushing it down roughly. Luffy cocked his head, still breathing heavily, then grinned. “You’re looking at me funny,” he observed. “What, am I standing in your sun?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah… I think the sun’s the one standing behind you.”

“Well, you tell that sun to move.” Luffy hopped onto the railing, stretching back. “That’s your spot.”

“Yeah, it is.” Zoro grinned at him, unable to bear the gladness swelling in his throat, and shoved him playfully. Luffy shoved back, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hey… hey, do you see that?” Luffy pointed, somewhere on the horizon. “Looks like- like a sea dragon, Zoro, look! We should catch it and eat it! Sanji could make fillets, like lunch today, and I’m sure we have spices- it’d be cool!”

“Luffy, it’s probably a ship.” He wasn’t looking, there was no way he was looking.

“IT’S BREATHING FIRE!”

Zoro whipped his head around, and got kissed soundly for his troubles. Luffy grinned into his face, holding onto the railing with one hand and a foot. “Gotcha,” he whispered, winking.

“Yeah. Yeah, you do,” he conceded, relenting. Why should today be any different from any other day, after all?

This was the life he’d chosen, wrapped up in those eyes.