For once, Sanji was not going to argue.
He lay there on his stomach, his arms propped underneath his torso, his head leaning back against Zoro's warm shoulder, his legs spread wide with the swordsman's weight settled between them. He was not going to argue.
Zoro rocked into him slowly, kissing leisurely at his neck and whispering to him things the chef would never have imagined. To his left Sanji could see, in the floor length mirror propped up against the wall, the movement Zoro's hips made under the sheets, for once not lost in a flurry of passion. He moaned and pushed his hips back against Zoro, sweetly begging for more.
He definitely wasn't going to argue.
Not when Zoro pushed his elbows out from underneath him, forcing him to lie flat on his stomach. His hands pushed up against the headboard of the inn bed and Zoro, sitting back, pulled Sanji's hips up just slightly, only to continue his slow and languid assault. The chef felt warm, calloused hands run up and down his back in a half hearted attempt at a massage – only the swordsman would try and multi-task in a situation like this.
But Sanji wasn't going to argue. Especially not when this new angle was causing his thighs to tremble at every thrust, causing him to try and bite back whimpers.
"You're being docile tonight," Zoro said breathlessly. Sanji could hear the small smirk playing at the swordsman's lips.
"Nngh. Who taught you such a fancy word?"
"Mm-" Zoro placed a particularly well-aimed thrust, "-Luffy."
Sanji snorted, but didn't argue.
He did push himself back up on his elbows, using that leverage to hook his long legs just beneath the swordsman's ass, and locked his ankles. Then he slowly shifted forwards, and then backwards, and back again, and Zoro moaned.
But Zoro decided he wasn't going to argue.