Denial

Part I - Part II is coming soon ;)


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The moonlight streamed in through the port holes. Sanji sat and watched it slowly crawl across the table. Illuminating his shoes, ankles, knees… slowly the room filled with smoke. He opened the door to let the air circulate and shivered as the cold night breeze caressed his skin. His thin silk shirt was no protection against the tumultuous weather of the Grand Line.


He listened to the sound of the waves, and thought of old sea shanties Zeff taught him many years ago. It helped him to forget that he was waiting. He didn’t mean to. He knew that Zoro wouldn’t come and it didn’t bother him. Why would he? Why would Sanji be here, so late? Why would he be… waiting? He wouldn’t. He wasn’t.


Something like that.


But his body knew the truth. It knew that he was oh-so-desperate. Every muscle and sinew tensed… his ears pricked for the first sound of heavy boots on wood. He couldn’t lie in his hammock in a room with the swordsman. His body ached half-way across the room. If he’d fallen asleep feeling like that, he probably would have woken up wrapped around marimo all guns blazing.


Oh, fuck that.


It was nice to just sit, though. To bask in the rare calm and the moonlight… and there it was. His spine tingled as he heard the soft shuffle of feet on the deck. His whole body tensed as he hovered on the desperate edge of hope. As his heart fluttered he suddenly remembered who he was; lust or no crippling lust. He lounged back and let his smoke linger nonchalantly on his lips. The door was pushed open slowly. A green head poked around the door and dark eyes scanned the room. Sanji’s hair was lit by a silver halo of moonlight, the eyes fixed on him and the corner of tight drawn lips twitched.


“Oi. What are you doing here?” Zoro’s deep voice was like nectar to the cook.


He came.


“’S my kitchen.”


“It’s late.”


“I know. What’s your excuse?” Sanji raised one eyebrow; at least one part of him was still cocky.


Zoro glared, “I want booze.”


“Well you can’t have any.” Sanji reached out and put out his cigarette.


“I can’t sleep.”


“Bullshit,” the cook laughed. He’d never heard anything so ridiculous in his life!


“You trying to get on my good side shit-head?” Zoro sat on the edge of the table and leaned over towards the cook. It could have been a threat or an invitation.


“Sorry princess,” Sanji chuckled “would you like me to make you something to eat to help you get to sleep? Or a hot drink?” Zoro continued to glare down at him with those intense dark eyes. “Or perhaps you’d prefer me to take the direct route and just tucker you out myself?” He fluttered long blonde eyelashes up at the grumpy swordsman.


“Shut up.”


“Make me.”


Hot mouth on his and desperate kisses. Zoro moved so fast that the words were still leaving his lips. He never had to be asked twice.


Strong hands tugged at his collar and he was pulled up, onto the table. Hands untucked his shirt and roamed across his stomach, up his chest. Deft fingers flicked his nipples and he moaned softly into the swordsman’s mouth. He knew Sanji loved it when he stroked his nipples. He pretended not to care about what the cook wanted, but he always touched him in a way that made him squirm.


The skilled hands undid his belt and then his hips were lifted off the table. Zoro leaned back and sat the cook in his lap. He looked up at Sanji and kissed him, wordlessly. Sanji wanted to tell him that he wasn’t waiting. He didn’t need this - those calloused fingers slowly rising up his sides, blunt nails gently tracing circles closer and closer to his sensitive nipples…


He leaned in and kissed Zoro just to shut up his inner dialogue. He tasted hot and sweet. Zoro nipped his lips and grunted as Sanji shifted his weight. He wriggled further down into the swordsman’s lap, torturing marimo’s groin by grinding his ass against it. He didn’t need this hot body closing in on him. Not now. Not ever.


Finally Zoro undid the buttons on the cook’s shirt. Unusually gentle, he didn’t pull a single stitch, the soft silk falling from Sanji’s pale shoulders and fluttering off the table onto the floor. The blonde pulled at Zoro’s shirt, and he obligingly lifted his arms, letting the fabric slip from his toned muscles. His chest rippled in the moonlight as he put his arms down again, and turned those intense eyes on his ero-cook.


He lifted Sanji’s hips again, and slid his trousers and boxers down. The cook stood up and slowly teased the satin from his straining erection. He slid the boxers off his hips and let them and his pants slide down his legs. Zoro looked up at him with a satisfied smirk, his eyes rolling slowly up the cook’s tight, pale body. He let his long chef’s fingers trail down his sides, and then used one foot to flick his clothes neatly onto a chair. Zoro leaned a lazy arm over and swept him into his lap. He tilted the cook’s chin just so, and kissed him deeply.


Sanji felt the warm hands slide across his body. Fingertips skirted ticklishly light down his stomach and then a rough hand closed on his cock. It was a sudden shock to his sex starved body, and he bit Zoro’s lip and arched his back. The swordsman grunted in satisfaction and pulled away from the kiss. He took Sanji’s hand and guided him to stand up. He stood slowly and Zoro ran his hands up the inside of his legs. He cupped him gently and leaned forwards; he hovered for a second and looked up, “I’m only doing this once, so enjoy it,” he growled. He wasn’t really going to…?


Sanji gasped as strong, wet lips closed down on him and a warm tongue circled. Zoro had never done this. He said he would never do it. Sanji had done it, it didn’t bother him… but Zoro, what wa… h… oh… fuc… Sanji let his head tip back and he felt weak at the knees. Zoro’s hands closed on his ass as he pulled the cook forward into his mouth. Sanji could feel his lips slide slowly up and down, tongue flicking his tip each stroke. It was fucking incredible. He was so doing this again.


He dug his fingers into Zoro’s shoulders as a calloused hand urged him to spread his legs. One rough finger was dragged agonisingly slow between his legs. Silently he begged Zoro to just put his fingers inside him. He was feeling dizzy but the swordsman was holding him up with one hand firmly clamped on the cook’s hip. As Zoro’s warm mouth surrounded him, he felt like he was starting to get too close. Too close to something incredible that would probably cost him his life. Zoro might be doing this, but if he came in marimo’s mouth… The thought made him moan and he felt the heat building fast. He pulled his hips back gently and panted out, “Zoro… stop…” The dark eyes turned up to his face and his erection emerged slowly from Zoro’s now-pink lips.


“Sure? Only chance you’re gonna get.” Zoro said. He licked the end of Sanji’s engorged cock and grinned when the cook trembled at his touch.


“I just don’t want to… well… you might get pissed if…” Sanji mumbled into his fringe.


“You don’t want to what?” Zoro asked, his dark eyes filled with mischief. He pushed one finger slowly into the cook, who gasped and tried to stay standing up. He could feel it pushing into him roughly, just the way he liked it. But suddenly there was more, much too much sensation at once… Zoro had pulled him back into his mouth and was sliding that hot tongue up in time to his caresses. He added a second finger, a third… Sanji’s vision went white and he tried to think of something. Anything… but there was just green and pink, and Zoro’s fingers and his mouth fucking the cook, harder every second. He fisted Zoro’s hair and tried to stop him, but the bastard just pushed into him deeper. He started swearing loud, and he knew he was going to come. He tried to hold it back and for a minute he teetered on the edge of bliss, his body screaming and racing and pulling him… and then he fell. Zoro’s fingers did something amazing and white hot sparks radiated from them. He ground his hips desperately, as Zoro thrust deeper inside him.


Sanji moaned and held onto the swordsman for dear life. His body collapsed and the heat washed over him, then he was gasping, soaring and coming so fucking hard into that so-wet mouth. He shuddered as Zoro moved inside him, and he looked down to see that smug grin as marimo swallowed. He slowly released Sanji from his grasp, and licked the last drops of moisture from his tip. He stared up and frowned. Sanji suddenly felt scared.


“I… I’m really sorry… I tried to stop you, but you’re too fuc..”


“I don’t care about that.” The dark eyes bored into him.


“Then what?”


“You better not be a lousy fuck because of that.” Zoro smirked up at him and slowly stood up beside him, pulling the cook towards him into an embrace.


“As if you could tire me out, you lazy bastard!” Sanji bumped chests with Zoro and his skin tingled where their bare flesh touched.


It wasn’t a need per se, more like a very, very strong desire…


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