Help you Remember ~ Chapter Five
Title: Help you remember Chapter Five
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing/Characters: Zoro/Sanji
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: During a fight with the marines, Zoro is knocked unconscious and when he wakes up in the marine headquarters, he's suffering from complete amnesia. Can anyone help him remember who he truly is, or will he just be a pawn of the government for the rest of his life?
A/N: Ok, now I know this is late and I am incredibly sorry on so many levels and I can NOT fathom how to make this up to you... oh! I kno! Next chapter will. ^.~
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Tashigi wasn’t happy when she found out he had gotten into a fight and could have, easily, killed him. If one of his ribs that had broken had shifted just three more centimeters, it would have punctured his lung. He just kept brushing it off like it was nothing, trying to pin why it felt so normal to fight with him.
Hadn’t she said something yesterday about fighting the Mugiwara’s often? Maybe that was it-well, perhaps, he could almost remember him being part of a pirate crew, so he had to be a Straw Hat, right? Well, maybe not had, but he recognized him, and they fought them often, so two and two equals five, right? Something like that? Whatever.
“Are you even paying attention!?”
“Not really,” he shrugged from where he sat on the small wall separating the walkway from the training grounds. He had-had being the operative word-been sleeping when she woke him, scolding him for giving the lower levels a “bad example” to work off of. He had just shrugged that off, settled back against the wall again and, again, tried to go to sleep. She awakened him up about five seconds before he had succeeded. Since then it had become almost like a game until he finally “gave up” (or, his sense of it) and delved into his thoughts.
“ZORO!”
Ignored. He silently wondered if the blond man had soft skin and, just before he was about to yell at himself for thinking such odd thoughts, a small, itty bitty voice in the back of his head said of course he does, he’s the freaking priss-of-ero-cookery why wouldn’t he? Sanji wouldn’t pride himself on being almost blemish free if his skin wasn’t smooth and silky, remember?
It was the last word that caught him off guard and he felt his eyes open and widen just as Tashigi stomped her foot, angered. “How did you break your bones, anyway?! What did you do after I went to bed?!”
He set her on hold, paused, and added mute to the list before he shut his eyes, furrowing his brow. Wait; wait, had he called him Sanji? Really? He was Sanji? That- that guy he stumbled upon was the Sanji that his mind had been teasing him about since he saw him in the alley? Why hadn’t he realized it earlier?
You did, his mind teased. You just didn’t realize it. Remember, you wanted to call him ero-cook during your fight. You rarely ever called him “Sanji.” It was a… special thing you did. Of course, he did the same thing.
He had to resist the urge to say something about that or let his eyes widen or muscles stiffen, etc. He felt as if he did a good job “hiding” this “discovery” from her as he thought about what his mind had just told him. It set a large credibility gap between him and what Tashigi and Captain Smoker were telling him. To be honest, he believed it for the first, oh, say, five minutes, and then he was told he had to wear a uniform because his clothes were in his “room.” Of course, that was true, but who would do something like that if there wasn’t an ulterior motive? Clothes wouldn’t get in a doctor’s way if they were in a corner of the room!
He suddenly felt like he was collapsing and needed to get away. Turning his head up to Tashigi with an indifferent stare, he asked “what were we talking about again?” Knowing it would either piss her off enough to leave or piss her off enough to start a fight. He could do with either right now.
She let out a muffled scream and stomped her foot before spinning on her heel and walking away, beyond pissed off. He felt his shoulders slump-he was honestly hoping for the fight, but no she just had to walk away! He sighed and stood up, brushing off his pants and walking away, looking for a certain pink-haired man.
Koby was taking a small break from mopping the floors, talking with another blond that didn’t deserve to show his face and, instantly, he remembered that he was the ass that tied him to the wooden dummy. What was his name? Soro? No, no, wait, that was that wolf, right? The one that pissed off that one guy, this guy, what was his name? Oh, right, Helmeppo. Why did he remember that guy’s name so quickly and Sanji’s took time!? Why did he care?!
“Koby.”
“Huh?” He looked over his shoulder and instantly his face lit up. “Zoro! You remembered my name!”
He nodded a little. “I remember a few things. Can we talk?” He glanced at the blond for a moment before clarifying “privately.”
“Uh… sure. Ok.” He nodded and followed Zoro into another hallway, leaving Helmeppo there.
“Tell me the truth.”
“What’re you talking about?” The pink-haired man asked, cocking his head slightly in confusion.
“Tell me the truth, am I really a Marine? Or am I not?”
Koby opened his mouth three times before words would finally come.
Sanji rubbed a hand over his face, remembering the force he had used in his voice to finally convince Nami that Zoro was a Marine. He hated himself for having to steel his voice like that, but now he was sighing over it, trying to convince himself that he had to tell her like that because there was no way that she’d understand otherwise. She had been flabbergasted for a while after it as the information slowly, unwillingly, processed itself in her brain.
And now he was able to be left alone, lying on the ground of the men’s quarters because he didn’t want to move and sometime during the night, he had rolled off the couch and onto the ground. Ussop was probably asleep in his “workshop” because he wasn’t in here and he was positive that it was at least morning if the streams of light peeking in from the roof/floorboards were any hint.
He remembered the last time he had lay here this silent, happy. Luffy, Ussop and Chopper were still in town, partying because Robin had joined and he wasn’t sure about the girls, but he was near positive that Nami and come back with Zoro, who was lying right next to him, his arm draped over his waist lazily. The green haired marimo nuzzled his head silently, pulling him closer, somehow overly possessive yet he found it was protective, as well, and a small smile found his lips as he leaned his head against the arm Zoro had outstretched under it.
He chuckled, remembering it. It was horrible that he remembered it, because it made him angrier at Zoro. How could he do something like- how could he do something like that and turn around and return to his duties!? How could he do something like that and then turn around and show him he was really a Marine!? (Why did this sound fishier than Sea King Stew!?)
He rolled over and let his arms come up, his forearms folding over each other as he forced his forehead into his arms, shutting his eyes. He knew Zoro was a stubborn bastard, but he… how could he… why? Why would he have fucking sex with him if he was just going to turn around and go back to being a Marine?
He shifted his head up, resting his lips against his arms now instead. Would he do that? He knew Zoro could be a very convincing asshole, but when it came down to it, he was caring and all that crap that made him want to kick himself for even thinking it about anyone other than his wonderful women! But, even if he was good at all that crap, Zoro was Zoro and he couldn’t even figure out how to stir a bowl of water. He wasn’t smart enough to trick them like this! …was he?
God, he’s giving himself a headache!
The hatch above him that lead onto the deck opened and he shut his eyes, not wanting to be bothered as Ussop’s voice asked “Sanji? Where are you? Oh, you’re on the floor…. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m going into town to get some more supplies, ok?” The hatch shut and he left, leaving Sanji by his lonesome.
Zoro could be a handful, sure, but… he wasn’t a Mugiwara this entire time to just get a quick fuck and leave, was he? No, of course not, he had joined before he had! He was near positive that wasn’t why. But, apparently, near wasn’t enough seeing as how Zoro was-is-a fucking Marine!
He wanted to scream. To put it simply, he really wanted to scream. He was frustrated and gaining a migraine that he, strangely, wanted to sleep off. Great! Another fucking Zoro moment! He liked the first but it wasn’t as if he wanted to sleep constantly. But still, he shut his eyes and with one arm, massaged his forehead.
He could almost laugh. This was almost exactly how he and Zoro first started-except he had been lying on his back on the couch, rubbing his forehead as he lay on his back. Zoro had returned-yes, Zoro had returned-from the bar they were at earlier. He had left first because of the headache he had and really wanted to be alone, but now Zoro was here, too?
“Here,” he blinked and opened his eyes to see that Zoro hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, showing him only in the small slivers of moonlight that came in from above. He could remember sneering and shutting his eyes again “What do you want, marimo?”
“What side is your headache on?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean? It’s a headache it doesn’t ‘take sides.’”
“Just tell me what side it’s more predominant on.” There was a pause before he continued “What?”
“How do you know what predominant means, let alone how to use it?”
“I’m not as dumb as you give me credit for,” he let out through gritted teeth. “Which side is it on?”
“Neither. Both. I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” He finally relinquished.
“The truth, preferably.”
“Why do you care?”
“Just answer me, shitty-cook.”
He reached up, feeling his forehead a bit more before sighing. “The left. Why?”
“Give me your left hand.” He shrugged and held it in the air before feeling a broad hand taking his wrist and pulling it towards him. He was rolled over slightly from it when he felt him pinching the skin between his thumb and front finger. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Five… six…” Was all he got in reply; he arched his eyebrow and stared at him, confused. “Oi, oi, shithead, what are you…” He trailed off and felt his eyes closing as the pressure in his head slowly eased off. “How are you doing that?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged, still pinching his muscle. “It’s some sort of pressure relief or something, I just know that if you pinch the skin on your left hand, the pressure on the left side relieves and if you do it on the right the right side disappears. It’s something my dad used to do for me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, when I was nine, my mother died of a disease and for a few years after that, I would suffer from headaches. He did this every time. Twenty.” He released his skin and sat down next to him. “How’s it feel now?”
“Better.” He admitted. “That’s weird. How did that work?”
“Like I told you, I don’t know.”
Sanji paused and thought over which side of his head hurt before pinching the skin on his right hand.
“What do you do if the front of you head hurts?”
“Pinch both simultaneously. Ten, give me your hand again.” He reached out and took his hand again, pinching it again. Ten seconds passed and he released it again. “How is it now? If that didn’t work, then it won’t work.”
“It’s gone.”
He released his hand and counted out ten seconds before doing it again.
“Good.”
They sat (and lay) in each other’s comfortable presence until Sanji felt himself drifting off. A hand drifted down his cheek bone, ghosting off his face and into his hair. “What’re you…?” He started, looking up to see that Zoro was half over him. “O-Oi, Shit swordsman, what’re you…?”
He caught him around the back of his neck, pulling him off the couch and onto his feet, smashing their lips together. Sanji grunted, trying to pull back with one hand caught his neck and holding him there as the other gathered both of his wrists, holding him still.
He was finally released, seething with a red face as he fought against the hand over his wrists. “Fucking jackass, stupid shitty swordsman,” he growled out, finally snapping his wrists apart. “Next time you want to kiss me, just fucking kiss me, don’t hold me captive.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Whatever you want it to be, marimo.” He felt the hand on his neck reappear and smirked to himself, leaning in with him and this time, he opened his mouth against the surprisingly soft lips, opening up for him as Zoro’s tongue delved in, licking up all over it. His tongue ghosted over the roof of his mouth, eliciting a moan from his throat.
He released his hand and shifted over, resting his now-bandaged cheek on his arm.
Zoro had him on the ground, naked in seconds as he still struggled with pulling his haramaki off. Chuckling, the moss head reached down, tugging it off over his head so that his hands could roam, stroking the scar on his chest while he nipped and kissed and bit at his neck, sinking his teeth into his collarbone.
He reached up and fingered where the hickey had been oh-so-very-long-ago. He shuddered a little, the sensitive skin still remembering the bite even though it had healed weeks ago.
“Suck.” Zoro demanded, resting two fingers against his lips. He felt his face screw up at the demand but quickly pulled them in, licking up and down until they were thoroughly covered. They disappeared and he felt something pressing against his opening. He shifted, uncomfortably and Zoro leaned up, clashing teeth together hurriedly, tongues tangled and lips forgotten.
He didn’t even notice the first finger in him, diving in and stretching him. When the second joined, his breathing hitched, feeling him shift them and scissor and looking for his prostate. This hadn’t happened to him before. He was, technically, a virgin in this sense. With all the partners he had taken to bed, he was always the dominate, and he knew that with some people, there was this place you could hit and listen to them moan and watch them writhe beneath you, begging for more-but those had all been girls, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to feel that same pleasure if his prostate was hit.
He gasped, his vision covered in white as his back arched up, off the ground. And the fingers disappeared. He whimpered at his loss until he felt something larger pressing into him. He hissed, feeling him moving like every second had been drawn into hours until he was finally all the way sheathing the man.
Zoro dipped his head, panting at the pressure around him as Sanji shifted, uncomfortably. He looked up to see Zoro had a faint blush on his face and a glazed look in his eyes that made it clear what he wanted. He was sure he had that same look as he nodded and Zoro pulled out until all that was left was his head before thrusting back in. He moaned and matched rhythms with him almost seamlessly until he felt his thighs quivering and Zoro wrapped his hand around him, pumping in time with his thrusts.
His vision flashed white and he almost screamed-and would have if his vocal cords were working. He felt himself emptying onto the both of them, splashing onto his stomach as he felt a sudden rush and he felt himself become full.
And then he was resting with his back against Zoro, freshly cleaned and dressed in only his pants.
And now he had a fucking hard on. Great. He sighed and made to stand up when the hatch opened and he realized there would be no time to jack off. He growled and startled cycling through any ways to made it disappear. Uh… uh… Carne in a speedo. That worked pretty well, but not enough. Ah, crap, um, Zeff in a bikini!*
Not only was he going to be sick, but he never wanted to see a bikini again….
The hatch opened completely and something dropped down into it, the arm that had dropped it disappearing almost instantly. He bent down and picked it up. A note was attached to the front of what appeared to be a sword or something along those lines. He took the note and read it, the headache almost returning.
Bring this to the square at twelve.
Zoro
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A/n - *I’m sorry for mentally scaring you. Here’s some scar-relief. Apply six times an hour for twenty four hours straight.
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Preview of Chapter Six:
" Whatever the hell Zoro wanted, he’d have to go and find out because there was no way he’d-or a Marine for that matter-leave his most valuable weapon and not expect something to happen. He ended up showing up to the square an hour early and finding him there, even though it was only eleven. Clutching the hilt in his hand, he held it in front of the green haired idiot and demanded, talking around the cigarette “The fuck does this mean, marimo?” "
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing/Characters: Zoro/Sanji
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: During a fight with the marines, Zoro is knocked unconscious and when he wakes up in the marine headquarters, he's suffering from complete amnesia. Can anyone help him remember who he truly is, or will he just be a pawn of the government for the rest of his life?
A/N: Ok, now I know this is late and I am incredibly sorry on so many levels and I can NOT fathom how to make this up to you... oh! I kno! Next chapter will. ^.~
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Tashigi wasn’t happy when she found out he had gotten into a fight and could have, easily, killed him. If one of his ribs that had broken had shifted just three more centimeters, it would have punctured his lung. He just kept brushing it off like it was nothing, trying to pin why it felt so normal to fight with him.
Hadn’t she said something yesterday about fighting the Mugiwara’s often? Maybe that was it-well, perhaps, he could almost remember him being part of a pirate crew, so he had to be a Straw Hat, right? Well, maybe not had, but he recognized him, and they fought them often, so two and two equals five, right? Something like that? Whatever.
“Are you even paying attention!?”
“Not really,” he shrugged from where he sat on the small wall separating the walkway from the training grounds. He had-had being the operative word-been sleeping when she woke him, scolding him for giving the lower levels a “bad example” to work off of. He had just shrugged that off, settled back against the wall again and, again, tried to go to sleep. She awakened him up about five seconds before he had succeeded. Since then it had become almost like a game until he finally “gave up” (or, his sense of it) and delved into his thoughts.
“ZORO!”
Ignored. He silently wondered if the blond man had soft skin and, just before he was about to yell at himself for thinking such odd thoughts, a small, itty bitty voice in the back of his head said of course he does, he’s the freaking priss-of-ero-cookery why wouldn’t he? Sanji wouldn’t pride himself on being almost blemish free if his skin wasn’t smooth and silky, remember?
It was the last word that caught him off guard and he felt his eyes open and widen just as Tashigi stomped her foot, angered. “How did you break your bones, anyway?! What did you do after I went to bed?!”
He set her on hold, paused, and added mute to the list before he shut his eyes, furrowing his brow. Wait; wait, had he called him Sanji? Really? He was Sanji? That- that guy he stumbled upon was the Sanji that his mind had been teasing him about since he saw him in the alley? Why hadn’t he realized it earlier?
You did, his mind teased. You just didn’t realize it. Remember, you wanted to call him ero-cook during your fight. You rarely ever called him “Sanji.” It was a… special thing you did. Of course, he did the same thing.
He had to resist the urge to say something about that or let his eyes widen or muscles stiffen, etc. He felt as if he did a good job “hiding” this “discovery” from her as he thought about what his mind had just told him. It set a large credibility gap between him and what Tashigi and Captain Smoker were telling him. To be honest, he believed it for the first, oh, say, five minutes, and then he was told he had to wear a uniform because his clothes were in his “room.” Of course, that was true, but who would do something like that if there wasn’t an ulterior motive? Clothes wouldn’t get in a doctor’s way if they were in a corner of the room!
He suddenly felt like he was collapsing and needed to get away. Turning his head up to Tashigi with an indifferent stare, he asked “what were we talking about again?” Knowing it would either piss her off enough to leave or piss her off enough to start a fight. He could do with either right now.
She let out a muffled scream and stomped her foot before spinning on her heel and walking away, beyond pissed off. He felt his shoulders slump-he was honestly hoping for the fight, but no she just had to walk away! He sighed and stood up, brushing off his pants and walking away, looking for a certain pink-haired man.
Koby was taking a small break from mopping the floors, talking with another blond that didn’t deserve to show his face and, instantly, he remembered that he was the ass that tied him to the wooden dummy. What was his name? Soro? No, no, wait, that was that wolf, right? The one that pissed off that one guy, this guy, what was his name? Oh, right, Helmeppo. Why did he remember that guy’s name so quickly and Sanji’s took time!? Why did he care?!
“Koby.”
“Huh?” He looked over his shoulder and instantly his face lit up. “Zoro! You remembered my name!”
He nodded a little. “I remember a few things. Can we talk?” He glanced at the blond for a moment before clarifying “privately.”
“Uh… sure. Ok.” He nodded and followed Zoro into another hallway, leaving Helmeppo there.
“Tell me the truth.”
“What’re you talking about?” The pink-haired man asked, cocking his head slightly in confusion.
“Tell me the truth, am I really a Marine? Or am I not?”
Koby opened his mouth three times before words would finally come.
Sanji rubbed a hand over his face, remembering the force he had used in his voice to finally convince Nami that Zoro was a Marine. He hated himself for having to steel his voice like that, but now he was sighing over it, trying to convince himself that he had to tell her like that because there was no way that she’d understand otherwise. She had been flabbergasted for a while after it as the information slowly, unwillingly, processed itself in her brain.
And now he was able to be left alone, lying on the ground of the men’s quarters because he didn’t want to move and sometime during the night, he had rolled off the couch and onto the ground. Ussop was probably asleep in his “workshop” because he wasn’t in here and he was positive that it was at least morning if the streams of light peeking in from the roof/floorboards were any hint.
He remembered the last time he had lay here this silent, happy. Luffy, Ussop and Chopper were still in town, partying because Robin had joined and he wasn’t sure about the girls, but he was near positive that Nami and come back with Zoro, who was lying right next to him, his arm draped over his waist lazily. The green haired marimo nuzzled his head silently, pulling him closer, somehow overly possessive yet he found it was protective, as well, and a small smile found his lips as he leaned his head against the arm Zoro had outstretched under it.
He chuckled, remembering it. It was horrible that he remembered it, because it made him angrier at Zoro. How could he do something like- how could he do something like that and turn around and return to his duties!? How could he do something like that and then turn around and show him he was really a Marine!? (Why did this sound fishier than Sea King Stew!?)
He rolled over and let his arms come up, his forearms folding over each other as he forced his forehead into his arms, shutting his eyes. He knew Zoro was a stubborn bastard, but he… how could he… why? Why would he have fucking sex with him if he was just going to turn around and go back to being a Marine?
He shifted his head up, resting his lips against his arms now instead. Would he do that? He knew Zoro could be a very convincing asshole, but when it came down to it, he was caring and all that crap that made him want to kick himself for even thinking it about anyone other than his wonderful women! But, even if he was good at all that crap, Zoro was Zoro and he couldn’t even figure out how to stir a bowl of water. He wasn’t smart enough to trick them like this! …was he?
God, he’s giving himself a headache!
The hatch above him that lead onto the deck opened and he shut his eyes, not wanting to be bothered as Ussop’s voice asked “Sanji? Where are you? Oh, you’re on the floor…. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m going into town to get some more supplies, ok?” The hatch shut and he left, leaving Sanji by his lonesome.
Zoro could be a handful, sure, but… he wasn’t a Mugiwara this entire time to just get a quick fuck and leave, was he? No, of course not, he had joined before he had! He was near positive that wasn’t why. But, apparently, near wasn’t enough seeing as how Zoro was-is-a fucking Marine!
He wanted to scream. To put it simply, he really wanted to scream. He was frustrated and gaining a migraine that he, strangely, wanted to sleep off. Great! Another fucking Zoro moment! He liked the first but it wasn’t as if he wanted to sleep constantly. But still, he shut his eyes and with one arm, massaged his forehead.
He could almost laugh. This was almost exactly how he and Zoro first started-except he had been lying on his back on the couch, rubbing his forehead as he lay on his back. Zoro had returned-yes, Zoro had returned-from the bar they were at earlier. He had left first because of the headache he had and really wanted to be alone, but now Zoro was here, too?
“Here,” he blinked and opened his eyes to see that Zoro hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, showing him only in the small slivers of moonlight that came in from above. He could remember sneering and shutting his eyes again “What do you want, marimo?”
“What side is your headache on?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean? It’s a headache it doesn’t ‘take sides.’”
“Just tell me what side it’s more predominant on.” There was a pause before he continued “What?”
“How do you know what predominant means, let alone how to use it?”
“I’m not as dumb as you give me credit for,” he let out through gritted teeth. “Which side is it on?”
“Neither. Both. I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” He finally relinquished.
“The truth, preferably.”
“Why do you care?”
“Just answer me, shitty-cook.”
He reached up, feeling his forehead a bit more before sighing. “The left. Why?”
“Give me your left hand.” He shrugged and held it in the air before feeling a broad hand taking his wrist and pulling it towards him. He was rolled over slightly from it when he felt him pinching the skin between his thumb and front finger. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Five… six…” Was all he got in reply; he arched his eyebrow and stared at him, confused. “Oi, oi, shithead, what are you…” He trailed off and felt his eyes closing as the pressure in his head slowly eased off. “How are you doing that?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged, still pinching his muscle. “It’s some sort of pressure relief or something, I just know that if you pinch the skin on your left hand, the pressure on the left side relieves and if you do it on the right the right side disappears. It’s something my dad used to do for me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, when I was nine, my mother died of a disease and for a few years after that, I would suffer from headaches. He did this every time. Twenty.” He released his skin and sat down next to him. “How’s it feel now?”
“Better.” He admitted. “That’s weird. How did that work?”
“Like I told you, I don’t know.”
Sanji paused and thought over which side of his head hurt before pinching the skin on his right hand.
“What do you do if the front of you head hurts?”
“Pinch both simultaneously. Ten, give me your hand again.” He reached out and took his hand again, pinching it again. Ten seconds passed and he released it again. “How is it now? If that didn’t work, then it won’t work.”
“It’s gone.”
He released his hand and counted out ten seconds before doing it again.
“Good.”
They sat (and lay) in each other’s comfortable presence until Sanji felt himself drifting off. A hand drifted down his cheek bone, ghosting off his face and into his hair. “What’re you…?” He started, looking up to see that Zoro was half over him. “O-Oi, Shit swordsman, what’re you…?”
He caught him around the back of his neck, pulling him off the couch and onto his feet, smashing their lips together. Sanji grunted, trying to pull back with one hand caught his neck and holding him there as the other gathered both of his wrists, holding him still.
He was finally released, seething with a red face as he fought against the hand over his wrists. “Fucking jackass, stupid shitty swordsman,” he growled out, finally snapping his wrists apart. “Next time you want to kiss me, just fucking kiss me, don’t hold me captive.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Whatever you want it to be, marimo.” He felt the hand on his neck reappear and smirked to himself, leaning in with him and this time, he opened his mouth against the surprisingly soft lips, opening up for him as Zoro’s tongue delved in, licking up all over it. His tongue ghosted over the roof of his mouth, eliciting a moan from his throat.
He released his hand and shifted over, resting his now-bandaged cheek on his arm.
Zoro had him on the ground, naked in seconds as he still struggled with pulling his haramaki off. Chuckling, the moss head reached down, tugging it off over his head so that his hands could roam, stroking the scar on his chest while he nipped and kissed and bit at his neck, sinking his teeth into his collarbone.
He reached up and fingered where the hickey had been oh-so-very-long-ago. He shuddered a little, the sensitive skin still remembering the bite even though it had healed weeks ago.
“Suck.” Zoro demanded, resting two fingers against his lips. He felt his face screw up at the demand but quickly pulled them in, licking up and down until they were thoroughly covered. They disappeared and he felt something pressing against his opening. He shifted, uncomfortably and Zoro leaned up, clashing teeth together hurriedly, tongues tangled and lips forgotten.
He didn’t even notice the first finger in him, diving in and stretching him. When the second joined, his breathing hitched, feeling him shift them and scissor and looking for his prostate. This hadn’t happened to him before. He was, technically, a virgin in this sense. With all the partners he had taken to bed, he was always the dominate, and he knew that with some people, there was this place you could hit and listen to them moan and watch them writhe beneath you, begging for more-but those had all been girls, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to feel that same pleasure if his prostate was hit.
He gasped, his vision covered in white as his back arched up, off the ground. And the fingers disappeared. He whimpered at his loss until he felt something larger pressing into him. He hissed, feeling him moving like every second had been drawn into hours until he was finally all the way sheathing the man.
Zoro dipped his head, panting at the pressure around him as Sanji shifted, uncomfortably. He looked up to see Zoro had a faint blush on his face and a glazed look in his eyes that made it clear what he wanted. He was sure he had that same look as he nodded and Zoro pulled out until all that was left was his head before thrusting back in. He moaned and matched rhythms with him almost seamlessly until he felt his thighs quivering and Zoro wrapped his hand around him, pumping in time with his thrusts.
His vision flashed white and he almost screamed-and would have if his vocal cords were working. He felt himself emptying onto the both of them, splashing onto his stomach as he felt a sudden rush and he felt himself become full.
And then he was resting with his back against Zoro, freshly cleaned and dressed in only his pants.
And now he had a fucking hard on. Great. He sighed and made to stand up when the hatch opened and he realized there would be no time to jack off. He growled and startled cycling through any ways to made it disappear. Uh… uh… Carne in a speedo. That worked pretty well, but not enough. Ah, crap, um, Zeff in a bikini!*
Not only was he going to be sick, but he never wanted to see a bikini again….
The hatch opened completely and something dropped down into it, the arm that had dropped it disappearing almost instantly. He bent down and picked it up. A note was attached to the front of what appeared to be a sword or something along those lines. He took the note and read it, the headache almost returning.
Bring this to the square at twelve.
Zoro
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A/n - *I’m sorry for mentally scaring you. Here’s some scar-relief. Apply six times an hour for twenty four hours straight.
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Preview of Chapter Six:
" Whatever the hell Zoro wanted, he’d have to go and find out because there was no way he’d-or a Marine for that matter-leave his most valuable weapon and not expect something to happen. He ended up showing up to the square an hour early and finding him there, even though it was only eleven. Clutching the hilt in his hand, he held it in front of the green haired idiot and demanded, talking around the cigarette “The fuck does this mean, marimo?” "