Fic: Zoro's Birthday '09
Zoro sat slumped in the couch, moulded to the cushions as he effortlessly scanned through the channels on the television. He listened to the door from the other room close and the light footsteps come closer to the couch. There was a moment of silence which caused him to look up, only for a weighted object to come crashing down into his lap.
“Oof,” sounded from Zoro as he bent forward over the laundry bin that now sat in his lap.
“I don’t understand how socks can go in as a pair, and then one just magically disappears,” Sanji complained as he walked around the couch flopping down next to the green haired man. He released a breath of smoke, shifting the cigarette slightly before grabbing the remote from the floor. Running a hand through his hair, Sanji glanced over at Zoro.
“Don’t look at me,” Zoro said as he leaned back glaring in annoyance, though not bothering to remove the laundry bin from
his lap yet.
“I do. It was mostly your socks. I bet they ran away to die because they couldn’t stand to go on your shitty feet anymore,” the blond retorted as he reached forward, grabbing the first shirt on top of the pile. “Even this shirt might be better to shrivel up and fade to dust.”
“That’s my favourite one,” Zoro replied as he went to grab the shirt from Sanji, only to receive a kick to the shin and the shirt pulled out of reach.
“My point exactly,” Sanji said dryly as he folded it and put it on the arm rest of the couch, out of Zoro’s reach. “Don’t just sit there,” Sanji mocked as Zoro glared and made a sound in response.
“S’my birthday,” Zoro grumbled as he grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the pile, too nice to be one of his own.
“Don’t just fold those like that. They’ll get creases,” Sanji said as Zoro rolled his eyes, and folded the jeans Sanji liked them to be. “And so what if it’s your birthday? A little housework chore that you rarely do won’t destroy the ambiance of the day,” the blond said as he reached for another shirt, glancing up at the movie that the other man had stopped upon in his scanning. “Seriously, you’ve got nothing to do if you’re sitting around watching this,” Sanji said jokingly as a pair of boxers was thrown at him. Removing his cigarette, Sanji held it at a distance so that it didn’t touch the clothes.
“I can do whatever I fucking want shithead,” Zoro said, taking the laundry bin in one hand and placing it on the table in front of them, before grabbing Sanji’s arm and pulling the protesting thin man into his lap. Sanji stared up at Zoro from the awkward angle, cigarette still held in his hand, before he started to push himself up into a half sitting-half straddling position. Staring at his lover Sanji took a drag from his cigarette before leisurely blowing the smoke into Zoro’s face. The green-haired man’s face scrunched up in obvious annoyance.
“Serves you right marimo,” Sanji pointed out, taking one last drag before stubbing out the smoke in the ash tray on the table. Turning around he repositioned himself over Zoro’s thighs, while grabbing the tanned chin in-between his fingers. Sanji felt Zoro’s hand grip his waist and slowly run down over his ass, giving it a greedy squeeze, before moving down to do the same with the muscular thigh. “And to think I wasn’t going to give you a gift at all idiot,” Sanji said in a teasing tone, that caused Zoro to reply with a predatory grin. Jerking his chin out of Sanji’s grasp, Zoro pulled the other man towards him capturing Sanji’s lips greedily with his own. Immediately his tongue ran across the lip, the lingering taste of smoke freshly on them, as well as the coffee he assumed the blond had left in the kitchen.
Sanji opened his mouth letting his own tongue tease Zoro’s before the other man plunged forward allowing himself to claim Sanji’s mouth. The blond moved his hand to grip the short green locks of hair, giving them better access to each other. Zoro’s other hand came to rest on Sanji’s waist as their lips parted.
Panting slightly, Sanji opened his eyes staring at the other man, his eyes seeming to reflect the smirk that appeared on his face. Zoro stared back only to scoff and push Sanji back slightly though not enough to push him off his lap.
“I hate waiting,” Zoro grumbled as Sanji leaned back in his lap obviously enjoying the look of dissatisfaction that crossed the tanned face. “My fucking birthday,” Zoro complained as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into the cushions glaring at the man in his lap. Sanji smirked as he got out of Zoro’s lap bending down to pick up the discard shirt knowing that a certain pair of eyes were not focused on the television. Straightening up, Sanji tossed the shirt into the bin before picking it up.
“Fine, I guess I be generous today,” Sanji said exasperatedly. “I mean it is hard it on the elderly after all,” he continued, grinning as he left the room and the empty beer can that had been sitting on the table crashed into the wall next to him. Zoro huffed in annoyance.
“I’ll show you who’s fucking old tonight, fucking curlybrow.”
“Oh, and that gift from my beautiful Nami-swan is dinner tonight. So you better be ready by five and out of your neanderthal costume.”