Request-Fic for paolka06!
Title: I’m In Too Deep To Stand On What I Know
Author: AoiTsukikage
Rating: R for non-graphic smex
Characters/Pairing: Zoro/Sanji/Zoro
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: Just over 1000
Spoilers: Pretty much everything.
Summary: They’re growing older, and maybe growing wiser, but by this point he’s pretty sure this…whatever it is between them is always going to stay the same.
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own these characters, no matter how sad that makes me. I do, however, promise to return them when I’m done with them. :)
I’m In Too Deep To Stand On What I Know
It should be far, far stranger than it is, but the fact is that the first night they stop at an inn they’re in the same room like something’s called them there, and they don’t even say anything before hands are tearing at clothes and roaming over skin and he skims his long fingers over Zoro’s earrings, the familiar jingle of the triple chimes sounding just like coming home.
Yes, it should be weird, because they haven’t seen each other in over two years and they should, by all accounts, still hate each other, but maybe time has softened the animosity that was mostly there for show anyway, and maybe it’s just that they’re not teenagers anymore: they’re adults, as scary a word as that is in the world they’re living in, where death is all too real - has always been ‘all too real’ for most of them, but hearing about somebody’s mother or sister or foster-parent who’s gone is different than most of them knowing him, and Luffy’s eyes will always be dark, now; his perpetual innocence forever tainted, and he wants to find whoever did that to his captain and to him and kick his head in, even though it won’t bring him back. Nothing will.
So he drowns his sorrows in flesh and heat and pain, because nobody’s been inside him for two years and Zoro’s never been exactly gentle, but he seems to get that this isn’t routine, not anymore, and he pauses once he’s fully in, leaning over him with the tips of his vibrant green hair darkened by sweat, and they’re looking into each other’s eyes (eye, Sanji reminds himself absently, but Zoro’s not one to get caught up on physical appearance anyway and Sanji figures he looks good enough for the both of them regardless) before Zoro leans down to kiss him, soft and almost tender, and Sanji’s not quite sure what that means.
They’ve never been big on kissing regardless, because they’ve never been in love, but it’s just another one of those things that time has changed. He wraps his hand around Zoro’s neck and kisses back, shifting against the fullness when he’s been empty for so long (God forbid any of those okama were getting to sleep with him, after all), before breaking away and nodding as Zoro starts to move.
And from then on it’s going by instinct, because all the time in the world wouldn’t matter when they know each other so well already, and they both might be a little more scarred (well, emotionally scarred, in Sanji’s case) and a little more worn, but this is familiar and safe and, despite what he might admit to himself, what Sanji’s been needing for the last two years.
He pulls Zoro closer, kissing him sloppily, and hangs on as tightly as he can. Because he wants to believe it won’t be the last time, but with the way their lives have been going lately, he can’t say for sure.
And, above everything else, he doesn’t want to have any regrets.
000
They lay there afterward, cooling down in the sea breezes flowing through the window, and Sanji lights a cigarette and smokes it thoughtfully, resting against Zoro’s shoulder.
“Those things are gonna kill you,” Zoro grunts after a while, his voice rough in the still air.
“Better these than a bullet,” Sanji eventually returns, making himself more comfortable as he blows smoke out toward the room.
“When did we get so morbid, Cook?” Zoro asks then, and Sanji knows the answer (and knows Zoro knows it, too), but it still has to be said.
“Once we figured out that we’re not immortal,” he settles on, and Zoro nods in understanding. “Life’s just…a little more precious. Maybe not for you, because you’ve always been stupidly impulsive, but for some of us it is.”
“Oi.”
“You lost an eye, Marimo,” Sanji reminds him with a teasing smile. “That’s not being careful.”
“You try fighting Mihawk and coming out better.”
“I’d never be fool enough to fight him in the first place.”
“Pansy.”
“Ape.”
“Prissy-boy.”
“Oaf.”
And there they go again, Sanji thinks, as they hurl insults at each other just like they’d used to. But the fact that he’s still leaning against Zoro takes a lot of the heat out of their words, and they’re almost saying them for the sake of trying to reclaim the past.
They’ll never be able to, he knows that, but maybe if they can pretend it’ll make everything sting a little less. And they’ve always been good at pretending.
The barbed words die out after a while and there’s still silence again, the distant waves the only audible sounds, until Sanji sighs heavily and reaches for the bedside table to butt out the cigarette. He decides, once the tang of smoke has faded from the air, that he’s ready to pretend a little more, and turns Zoro’s face so he can kiss him again.
And Zoro’s obviously having the same thoughts, because he doesn’t even protest, but rather kisses him back before asking in his usual blunt way, “Want to go again?”
“I’m on top,” Sanji decides after moving and wincing at the soreness in his lower body, and to his credit Zoro merely shrugs and nods. Just another thing about them that’s different, he supposes.
But Zoro’s body is familiar, and the way they move against each other is the same, and he takes comfort in that.
They’re growing older, and maybe growing wiser, but by this point he’s pretty sure this…whatever it is between them is always going to stay the same. And that probably means he cares for Zoro more than on a physical level, which he really doesn’t want to think about right now, but a part of him knows that, all things considered, there are worse people he could have fallen for.
“Stop thinking and kiss me,” Zoro growls, obviously impatient, and Sanji obliges before deciding that he can have his internal crisis later.
This is fine. What they have is fine.
And he swears that, this time, he’s going to enjoy every minute of it.
Notes:
1. This is a request fic for paolka06, who wanted a ‘reunion smutty drabble,’ and while the smut’s mostly implied I hope you like it :D
2. The title comes from the song ‘Trembling’ by Doubting Paris.
3. I haven’t written these boys in forever, so if anybody still remembers me, hi! And please feel free to leave me a review/comment and let me know what you thought!!