I finally post! But, uh, I'm still on set 1... I need to start 4.... Sorry! D: *hides*
Title: Paradox
Theme: # 19 Pet - Set 1
Claim: Zoro/Sanji
Words: 366
Rating: PG
Warnings: Touching! 8D
Disclaimers: One Piece isn't mine.
Somehow, Sanji's body was a paradox, that Zoro would never fully understand.
It was hard with tense muscles able to kick large bricks of stone into oblivion. Zoro himself had encountered that hard strength too many times to keep track of them, sparring and fighting with the cook several times a day. Sanji might look skinny and fragile, but he was nothing but muscles bound together perfectly.
Yet, when Zoro drew a calloused hand over the blond's naked skin his fingertips were met by a pale texture, smooth as velvet. At some places this softness was replaced by harsh scars from a war wound or a kitchen accident, but overall Sanji's skin was the smoothest he's ever touched, any woman included. Just dragging his hands up and down the cook's back was a pleasure in itself.
And then he hadn't gotten started on that blond hair of his. Zoro had once searched through the whole bathroom and the boy's quarter for the miracle conditioner that the man had to use, but he had returned empty handed. He had never, and would probably never either, understood how Sanji could keep his hair as soft as it was while constantly being surrounded by sea water and other things.
On lazy days Zoro always loved sitting in the shade under the tree on Thousand Sunny's deck with a half-sleeping cook crawled up in his lap. As the wind passed through the grass they sat in, Zoro's fingers were tangled up in blond strands of silk soft hair. The harsh skin of his fingertips massaged the scalp and drew lazy circles down Sanji's temples and neck. Sometimes, he tickled the cook's face with the hair, but mostly he sufficed with letting his mind fly far away while his hands petted blond hair.
Sometimes, Sanji woke up and muttered that Zoro was supposed to stop, that he wasn't a woman for god's sake and that his hair wasn't for petting. Yet he moved closer to the swordsman, resting his head against the other man's shoulder. Craning his neck ever so slightly, he nudged the man to continue his affectionate petting.
Really, sometimes Zoro could swear that he never would understand Sanji.