AN: Okay, so this is the beginning of a collection of drabbles/one shots/challenges for One Piece pairings. They will probably end up being mostly Zoro/Sanji, but there will be others as well. I hope to encourage all of you that visit to submit any requests that you might have for any one shots or drabbles that you want to read. I don't know how long I'm going to make this, but I think I'm going to shoot for somewhere around 30. How does that sound?
Warning: adult content, yaoi, language
Timeline: anytime after Sanji joins the crew
Life was never something that the 19-year-old cook had ever seen fit to award any credit. It was just something that you were born into, survived through, enjoyed as best you could, and, in the end, once your earthly body could take no more, you died and went to heaven knows where. Life had never been easy for him, but he had never taken to moping and sulking about the past. Only stupid idiots did that, and Sanji was NOT a stupid idiot.
Life had always been a paradox, an enigma that could throw you a surprise birthday party one minute and then kill your best friend the next. Sanji had never allowed himself to think too much on this ridiculous term of life, finding that it only succeeding in royally pissing him off, inducing a chronic need to find something on the ship that was breathing and make it stop.
But as he was currently laying spread wide beneath the seasoned swordsman, no more than a year his senior, there was something to be said for this concept of 'life'. Sure it was an infuriating paradox that would occasionally and metaphorically vomit on his freshly baked cream puffs that he had so carefully prepared for the beauties on board. But there were also times like this that made all of those miserably pissed-off times worth the heartburn and migraines that fueled his raging nicotine dependency.
The same life that had marooned him on an island with a cantankerous old pirate captain was the same life that had brought him to this very moment in time...and he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about that.
Even then as his baby-soft golden hair was a tangled mess, his body coated in a pink flush from the sheer arousal of the encounter...and as contradictory greedy and vulnerable hands dug into the creamy flesh of the back of his knees, opening him wider for an even deeper penetration - he wondered why the hell he was wasting energy dwelling on a subject that, frankly, he never had and probably never would give half a shit about.
Sanji could tell that Zoro wasn't as calm as he was pretending to be. His fingers were trembling as they grasped at the soft skin on the underside of the cook's knees, as was the rest of his tight, muscular body. The swordsman had his forehead pressed against the slighter body's damp shoulder as he tried to calm his erratic breath. The oceanic-eyed cook ground his hips down onto the tan ones of the brash brute, wanting to push the stubborn swordsman over the edge. To see and feel Zoro fall apart was something that Sanji took great appreciation in experiencing.
Zoro was currently having trouble holding on to the limited control he still held, and he could feel his impending orgasm as Sanji rocked against him, his throbbing length buried deep within the velvety heat. The feel of his lover's silky smooth, creamy skin flush against his own caramel flesh, for the first time in a long time, was driving him beyond his sanity and already shaky control. He pressed his face even deeper into the pale shoulder beneath him attempting once more to cool the growing heat within him that was threatening to burst forth.
Sanji moaned appreciatively, nipping harshly at the salty skin of the swordsman's neck, just below his left ear, his fingers clutching at the hard deltoid muscles that were pulled tightly atop the tan shoulders above him. His body trembled harshly as he nearly sobbed his need into Zoro's shoulder, nipping at the scarred skin. Wantonly, he continued to rock against the swordsman's thrusts, tangling the lithe fingers of his right hand in the short, mint-green spikes of the marimo's hair as he dragged the man's mouth to his own, wrapping his tongue around the others. Zoro, taken by surprise at the sudden kiss, released Sanji's left knee, raising his hand to cup the porcelain cheek as he groaned into the lip-lock, nearly losing the rhythm of his thrusts.
As the kiss broke for oxygen, Zoro looked down at the writhing and gasping blonde, thumbing circles on his soft cheekbone, entranced as he watched his lover move beneath him, the cook's now dark blue eyes heavily lidded with sensation, his face flush with exertion. He looked so fucking beautiful...but he would never tell Sanji that. No, he would never risk having these moments ripped away from him even for a single time because of the moody blonde's overwhelming pride. For the moment, the moans and pants of pleasure and exertion were all that he could even manage to make out; the painful digging of Sanji's heel into the dip of his lower back was the only thing keeping him even slightly grounded and aware at that time. Those loud gasps for air and the feeling of that long leg tightly around his right hip gave him a sense of achievement that no one could take away from him. There wasn't a single detail of this moment that wasn't imprinted in the swordsman's mind: the creamy skin beneath his fingers, the friction of his broad chest against the lean one beneath him, the tickling shiver as the golden hair swept across his ear, or the firm grip on his tense shoulders as he sharply thrust into the lithe body below.
He couldn't stop the gruff moan from falling past his lips as he felt that familiar coil of white-hot heat in the pit of his stomach and the familiar jerking of the alabaster hips against his own as his partner obviously had a similar experience. His pace quickened, sharpening as they both sought that precious release, reaching for it with their writhing bodies as if it was something tangible to grasp. Lifting the cooks leg higher on his hip, shoving the other's right knee back towards the heaving chest below, he nipped at the ivory jaw line beside his head, licking at the glistening skin as he thrust deeply. He slid his right hand from the heated cheek, taking a firm hold of his partner's leaking member, feeling the shaking body buckle slightly beneath him. This was it...not hell, high water, or marines could have stopped them now as the throbbing sensation of pure ecstasy washed over them, nearly simultaneously. Zoro spilled his seed deeply within the tense body beneath him as the cook bit harshly into his shoulder, his own hot essence coating their stomachs and chests in the sticky fluid.
There were a few moments of empty silence before Sanji returned to himself, still wrapped around the swordsman's body, and as they laid, sated for the time being in the afterglow of their unfortunately uncommon interlude, Sanji dared someone to question them. He hoped to whatever god there was that no one was ever thickheaded enough to ask what the two were. They were nakama...who just happened to fuck each other senseless every few stops at port. That was it. He saved Zoro's neck; Zoro saved his. They fought and they bitched, but somehow, they still got along. It wasn't perfect, but it worked, and that was what was important in the end.