Author's notes :
Thanks to everyone who commented on this fic. I love you all, and you rock.
Smut ahead! Here are the naughty bits (most of) you were waiting for. *winks at Syb*
To Fiancee Cocacola : Thanks for your remark! However, "diem" means "day" in Latin, so I chose to use "profite du jour présent", which is also the translation I was taught in Latin class - which incidentally, took place in France, since I was born there. Anyway, here's a fun fact for you : it seems like both translations are actually inaccurate (and I thank my best pal, Wikipedia, for that fun bit).
After I first stopped writing this fic, while it was still incomplete, I started working on another one, "Sunless" (which ended up being original work, because a fanfic just wouldn't fit what I had in mind anyway – more on this later). Soon after I started working on it, I decided to put up an inspirational play-list I could listen to when writing, filled with mostly depressing tunes, since "Sunless" is such a depressing bunch of ideas I had on my mind for several years. When I finished the 4th chapter, reaching about 50 pages – go me! – I decided to resume writing "The dark blue sea", but still went on listening the same play-list while I did so.
Which might explain why this fic turned out having such a bittersweet undertone. I totally didn't intend it to, but as I said in the previous chapter's comment, it more or less wrote itself. Also, I ended up being so depressed about it, that after I was done, with only proof-reading left, I had to stop listening to that play-list, switching for one with happy tunes only. Silly me.
So, now I'm done with "The dark blue sea", I'm going back to "Sunless", which I will post on FictionPress at some point. I have an account there, under the same name, and sadly, to this day, it's still empty – though not for long, I expect.
R&R please! And I don't own anything. Oda does.
She led him trough the deck, in the moonless night, never letting go of his hand, to the storage room, a storm lantern in the other. Once there, she finally released him, kneeling down to open the hatch leading to the room she slept in. She flung her legs over the opening's side, her feet soon reaching the stairs down there. She then raised her free hand, inviting him to follow her.
"Come." She said, when she felt him hesitating.
He finally took it, kneeling next to where she was still sitting, and, pressing her hand in his own, his other arm in her back, he leaned in and kissed her. She could feel him shivering, and she wondered if it was caused by the outside cold, still strong in the storage room, or because of his apprehension at the thought of what was about to happen.
"Let's go." She said, tugging on his arm. "My room isn't that warm, and the heat is gonna leak out if we let the hatch open for too long."
He agreed with a slight shaking of his head, followed her when she went down the stairs, and closed the hatch behind himself.
He suddenly found himself in the middle of the dark room when she suddenly shut the light out.
He felt her hands sneaking around his waist, and very soon, she was embracing him again, pressing her body against his, kissing him with barely restrained passion. He slid his arms around her, letting her guide him toward the couch, on the other side of the room, bathed in darkness. He soon felt his calf bump against soft fabric, and, breaking the kiss, lets himself fall backwards, relieved to find himself sitting on the mellow piece of furniture.
Moments later, she was sitting next to him, sliding an arm over his shoulders in an unconscious protective gesture. Her free hand traveled from his chest to his neck, finally cupping his face, the soft feeling of his hair against her fingertips. Soon, she was straddling him once again, arms reaching up his shoulders, while his hands were brushing up her tights and coming to rest on her hips.
"Relax." She whispered softly, feeling how tense the muscle in his shoulders were. She started massaging him there, slowly, bringing her face closer to his own, until their foreheads were resting against each other. Her hands came back to his chest, slowly unbuttoning his jacket, which soon came to rest on the treasure chest standing on the left of the couch. She then slid her hands under his shirt's collar. She could feel how soft his skin was under her fingertips, almost as soft as hers, and she thought it felt just as he looked – smooth and flawless. It made her want him even more than before.
She tilted her head and brushed her lips against his, and he started kissing her, this time taking the lead. She smiled, reckoning he was becoming better at this. She proceeded to unbutton his shirt, fumbling in the dark, making out each button with her fingers before patiently sliding it through the tiny hole in the fabric, for she couldn't see anything. When she was done, her hands traveled against his chest, enjoying the moment tremendously, feeling, memorizing every place she had seen on occasion, when he would go for a dive on an especially hot day, as well as the ones that had been staying concealed until now. When her fingers brushed against his nipples, she could feel him sigh against her mouth.
She took hold of his shoulders, and motioned him, following the movement, so he was laying on the couch, with her sitting on top of him. She caressed his naked chest idly, and soon leaned in and started kissing, licking his flesh, lingering on places she knew would be sensitive. Once again, his breathing became shaky.
When she drew back, his hands, caressing her hipbones until now, went up to cup her breasts, while he was sitting up to kiss her more.
Inexperienced, maybe, but not bad at this, definitely. His hands were steady and gentled, as she had assumed they would be – he was such a talented cook, used to handling ingredients sometimes very delicate, after all. She let out a quiet hum when he brushed past a nipple, because what he was doing was very enjoyable, and because she wanted him to know that he was doing it right. It was obviously useful, for he seemed to gain some confidence from it, sliding his free hand under her sweater and caressing her back. His hand soon brushed against her bra, and he started feeling the small piece of fabric's fastener. When he finally understood how the thing worked, his other hand joining the first, and after a short while, deftly opened it, before his hands, never leaving her skin, came back to the front, releasing her breasts from the inhibiting garment.
He pulled her sweater up her chest, and when she lifted her arms, slid it over her head and threw it aside, taking her bra along with it. His hands came back to her breasts, soon followed by his mouth, which she soon found was just as innately talented. His tentative, very gentle caresses still made her feel very good, and before she realized, she was grinding into his lap, gripping at his pants' waistband, arousing shaky gasps from him. She could feel how he was reacting to her touch, hard again – she knew he had already been, when they were kissing, on the chair in the kitchen. She started unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoned his pants, and slid the zipper down, before slipping a hand into his boxers to circle his cock in her hand, slightly amused to find that he was wearing silk undergarments. This was so like him.
Sanji had stopped his ministrations on her breasts, and his arms now circled her waist, lost in the sensations of her, fondling this sensitive part of his body, and she pondered for a moment what to do next. She definitely wanted him, and could barely restrain herself from proceeding right now, because his reactions' intensity was tremendously appealing. Yet, it was precisely the sheer intensity of these reactions that caused her to prevent herself from doing so, expecting he wouldn't be able to last long enough for her to get what she wanted as well.
She pushed him down, so he was laying again, leaned forward to kiss him, and from there, proceeded downwards, her mouth tending to his chest, her hand stroking his cock slowly. She motioned herself, tracing wet trails over his abdomen, sliding his pants and underwear down his hips with her free hand. She could feel his legs squirming when he kicked his shoes off, and she smiled against his lower belly's skin, covered in soft, down-like hair. She slid his pants further down, taking the silk boxers with them. Very soon, the only piece of clothing still on him was his wide open shirt, and she was kneeling between his legs.
When she trailed her tongue from the base of his length to the tip, he let out a muffled, shaky moan. She suddenly felt his hand around her wrist, preventing her from going on stroking his cock, despite the fact she could see he was nearly at his limit.
"Nami-san..." He was speaking breathlessly.
She gently removed his hand with her own free one, and, after pressing her lips on his palm, causing him to shudder, intertwined her fingers with his. She then resumed on her task, closing her mouth around Sanji's slender erection.
He was then lost in oblivion. He wanted to stop her again, but found himself unable to say anything anymore – aside from oh's and ah's – and could only clench his teeth, preventing himself from moaning loudly. Nami's mouth was so warm, smooth like silk around him, her tongue was hot and the things it did to his cock were so incredible he could already feel pressure building up within himself. He tried to fight, to last a little longer, but to no avail. What she was doing to him was way too good. He pressed his eyes shut, his forearm over them as he was about to concede, and let out a single, muffled moan as his whole body was tensing, succumbing to a tremor whose intensity he hadn't come to be acquainted with, prior to this moment.
For a while after that, he could only feel the cold air around the wet tip of his cock, Nami's gentle touch, fingers brushing against his inner thigh and on his palm, then regained sensations in his whole body, gradually. He felt heavenly, extremely content in his afterglow, and he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but feared it would scare her away, when they were far from done. Stopping now seemed impossible to him. So, he pulled on her arm instead, sitting in the same motion, and kissed her as tenderly, as passionately as he could, pouring his feeling through the contact, tasting himself on her lips, foreign and slightly bitter. He had come into her mouth, and wondered briefly if she had swallowed or disposed of it all while he was recovering.
When they parted, she stepped aside and tucked herself between Sanji and the couch's back, laying next to him, and he could feel her smiling against his shoulder, satisfied at the pleasure she had given him.
He turned to her and intertwined his legs with hers, and, raising their hands, still clenched around one another, kissed each of her fingers. Then, propelling himself on an elbow, he motioned her arm so it was resting under his neck, and laid back next to her. He trailed a wet path on the inside of her arm, delicately kissing and licking his way to her shoulder, before nipping gently at her lips. He slid his free arm around her waist, and pressed her body against his, feeling her hand sliding up his chest and coming to cup his face, while they leaned into a tender kiss.
His hand was caressing the soft skin of her waist, and soon came up to gently toy with her right breast. This was promising, she though. Sanji was definitely a quick learner, which made up for his lack of experience with women. He was also very tender, yet quite shy, but not awkward, and he still managed to act very manly, despite not being bossy or dominating in any way. He was making her feel at ease, extremely relaxed. And she liked that a lot – none of her previous flings had managed that much.
She tightened her embrace around his waist, and shifted her legs so she could rub herself against his thigh. He got the clue, and motioned himself so she have a better scope to do so. She pulled at his hand, still playing with her breast – which was soon replaced by his mouth – and made it slide down her body, over her waist, until it reached under her skirt, over her butt, because she was pretty sure he wouldn't dare going there on his own accord – he was too much of a gentleman to do so. Thus allowed to access her more intimate parts, Sanji started becoming bolder, and slid a hand under her cotton panties, brushing, squeezing her flesh very gently, his fingers grazing closer to her most sensitive skin with each caress, while he was kissing her collarbone. It made her feel wild, spreading her legs a bit more and moving her hips just so, to grant him better access. She stifled a sigh when his fingers delved deeper, under her ass, skimming briefly against her most delicate parts, and she pressed her legs around his, so he knew she liked that.
He suddenly moved up, motioning his legs so he was sitting between hers, and placed his hands on her hips. He paused, and she could hear him sighing almost blissfully in the dark as he was slowly sliding her underwear down her legs. He drove his hands along her hips, around her navel, stroking her fair skin with his thumbs, and whispered in the dark.
"You're so lovely."
His hands reached between her tights, pushing them apart gently so she would spread them a bit wider, and he started massaging around her most sensitive spot for a while, making her shiver in anticipation, before dipping two fingers there. While he was slowly caressing her smooth, wet flesh, not daring to slid them into her yet, he went on brushing her lower belly with his other hand, and she let out a blissful sigh. Once again, if his caresses weren't the most skilled, they were definitely the most tender, the most loving she had known until this day, and she thought – they should have done this before.
I'm such an idiot for not understanding this earlier, she thought.
After a minute maybe, he removed his fingers, and she could hear him fumble in the dark. When he came back to her, placed his hands gently on her tights and started licking her, she couldn't help but let out a short, surprised cry. He stopped almost immediately, anxious that he had done something wrong.
"Ah... No, please... go on..." She said, her breath short.
He resumed his task, as talented with his mouth as he was with his hands, instinctively, and very soon, she could feel heat building up within her. If he didn't stop soon, she would come, and she didn't want it to happen like that. She wanted him.
She reached down and cupped her hand around his face, lifting his chin and preventing him to go on licking her. She sat up, taking his hand and leading him so he'd do the same, and kissed him. She slid her arms around him, noticing he had removed his shirt some time ago, probably before going down on her. Very well.
After they parted, she overturned him gently, and propelled her legs over his, so she was straddling him. His hands traveled up to her breasts, and she smiled, grinding into his hips. She could feel he was ready to go again. She leaned down to kiss him, and grabbed his member to position it against herself.
His breathing caught into his throat when he felt what she was doing, his hands falling on her hips.
"Nami-san..." He whispered against her lips, his voice overwhelmed with want and emotion.
She slowly let herself slide down his length, sighing faintly in bliss. She felt him shudder, and when she started to move, his hands slightly tensed against her hips, making her stop.
"Nami-san... please wait." He clenched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sweet sensation of her around him, wet, smooth and tight. It was way too pleasurable, too perfect, and he had to prevent his control over himself to slip again.
Yet, when she removed herself from him, he nearly ached at the sensation of loss.
"Sanji-kun... Let's switch." She took his hand so he sat up, and laid down on the couch in his place. He knelt between her legs, his arms on each side of her head, and leaned down to peck on her lips while she guided him inside her.
"Nami-san..." It was easier for him to stay in control of his desire that way, yet, as he was pressing himself inside her, it still felt so good he was overwhelmed. "Nami, I lo-"
She stopped him, a finger against his mouth, which lingered, caressing his lips gently.
"Carpe diem." He understood that saying it out loud would make things complicated, and she had clearly decided to disregard any further trouble, for now.
He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and shook his head in agreement. He could feel her smile against his mouth as she kissed him, and soon, he started to rock his hips slowly, gently, trying to get used to the wonderful feeling of being buried inside her. Moments later, he reckoned he was in control enough to increase the pace.
The feeling of her flesh sliding against his own was new, foreign, and magnificent. He didn't feel the cold anymore, her skin warm and soft against his. She raised a hand which came to rest on the back of his head, fingers entangled in his hair, pulling his head until it rested near her neck, which he kissed gingerly. She then lowered her hands to his hips, further opening her legs, surrendering to his passionate embrace, and he felt in bliss.
They kept this posture for a while, and he could feel his second orgasm building up. When she propelled herself on her arm, sneaking the other around his bare torso, and kissed him, he knelt back, grabbed her ass with both hands and brought her closer, reaching deeper within her in the same motion. She didn't stop kissing him, but he could hear her muffled moans against his mouth. She was getting tighter with ever thrust, and he hoped, despite the fact he'd soon be past his limit, that she would be able to come before he did. At this point, he was trying to keep his voice low, for he didn't want their other crew-mates to hear what was happening in her room.
She embraced him with both arms, a hand in the small of his back, the other in his hair, and whispered into his ear, in-between her moaning.
"Your... v-voice... mmm... let... me...a-a-aaah... h-hear it..." She was short of breath, and when he obliged, sighing loudly into her neck, his voice very much slipping out of his control, he could feel her tense intensely around him, shuddering under the force of her orgasm, and it didn't take long until he came as well, trusting into her sporadically, his voice reaching heights he never thought it could, the world around him disappearing entirely and exploding in a burst of light against his closed eyelids.
All too fast, it ended. Thrusting inside her a last time, feeling both rejuvenated and sucked dry of all his strength, he let himself follow her when he felt her slid back down on the couch, though he avoided falling on her, shifting so he would rest beside her.
Bliss. This was pure bliss. And Nami was perfect, and his heart ached at the thought that he never really realized how much of a goddess she was before, how much he loved her – and because he wasn't allowed to tell her so. He, who had professed his love to her so many times in the past. She had made it clear that it would ruin the moment, and he didn't want that. Because that very moment was so perfect.
He wondered if he would be able to find it in himself to tell her again, later, in the same way as he used to, before. He doubted he could. He took a deep breath, only to realize it made his heart ache deeper. He felt a little like crying, but didn't dare doing so. Men don't cry.
Since he couldn't tell her, he slid his arms around her lithe body, intertwining his legs with hers once again, and hugged her tightly. She hugged him back.
After a minute or so, he started feeling the surrounding cold getting hold of his body again. She was shivering as well. So he rubbed her back with his hands a few times, and sat up.
"Don't you have a blanket somewhere?"
She caught his arms and pressed it gently.
"I'll find it."
She got up, and he could hear her fumbling around in the dark room. When she came back, she threw a thick, woolen blanket at him, and scrambled down, sitting and spreading the thing over them, sliding back into his embrace.
"Why does it have to be so cold..." She said, her teeth clattering.
After a while, though, it got better.
Later that day, he was on the deck, a cigarette in his hand, leaning over the railing, in the dull, cold morning fog, which effectively reflected his current mood. It was still pretty early in the morning, and the sun hadn't risen yet. Then again, in that thick mist, he couldn't really tell.
He had soon slipped into slumber, after they got themselves tucked into the blanket, but he didn't sleep very well, despite the exhaustion caused by their affair.
It's not that he regretted anything. What they had just done had made him feel happier, more complete than he ever had, and he didn't think it could ever be outdone by anything else. However, he dreaded what would happen in the morning. Things would change. He knew they would, and it made him feel uneasy.
He spent the next few hours trying to get some rest, but he kept slipping in and out of sleep, jumping at the slightest noise, maybe even for no reason at all. Every time, his first thought was for Nami – was she gone, or still sleeping peacefully in his arms? After waking up for what seemed to be the hundredth time, he gave up, and laid there, his eyes open in the dark, caressing her hair, careful not to wake her up. Thinking about what would happen in the morning. It wasn't like he really wanted to, but he couldn't help it.
He was afraid of going back to sleep, and waking up, later, to find the place beside him on the couch, empty.
When the first morning light came through the small hatch, on the outside wall of Nami's cabin, his mind had explored every possibility regarding what would follow. He didn't dare hope that she would return his feelings, or that they would find themselves into a romantic relationship of sorts. The best thing probably would be to go back to the way things were between them, before – but Sanji knew all too well that he wouldn't be able to get over that night they had spent together. Right now, he couldn't help himself from wanting more.
Since these wouldn't happen, it only left him with the uglier potential situations. She could start feeling awkward around him. Avoid him. Ignore him. Get irritated at him. Hate him.
He didn't even want to think about it.
When he got to the point where he couldn't bear to have those thoughts anymore, twirling around in his mind endlessly, he got up, gathered his clothes and got dressed, before heading for the deck. He needed a cigarette, hoping some fresh air would help clearing his cluttered mind. And if it didn't do the trick, he could always start on breakfast, knowing his other crew-mates wouldn't wake up much later, now. It would certainly help clearing up his thoughts.
He had been there for maybe a few minutes, when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw a glimpse of ginger, tousled hair. At least, she didn't seem to feel like avoiding him yet.
The footsteps reached past his spot along the railing, and stopped. A quick look from the corner of his eyes revealed Nami, leaning back against the railing. He felt a faint glint of hope taking hold of his chest when she started speaking.
She wasn't ignoring him either.
They stood there, silent falling back over them. She started tapping her foot lightly against the wooden floor, in short thuds. His thoughts were once again in upheaval. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to ask. Yet, he found himself unable to speak. He didn't even dare looking at her face, because he feared that he would find her response written there, of a kind he wouldn't be able to bear.
After a while, she sighed, and stood up, walking away from the railing. He felt his heart sink into his chest, and the small glint of hope flickered like a candle's flame in a gale.
And then, her footsteps stopped. Air stood still for a split second, until they resumed, and, suddenly, he felt slim arms sneak around his waist from behind, and a warm body pressing against his. His breath caught in his lungs when he felt her embracing him tightly, in an almost desperate manner, and he nearly felt like he was choking – and then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the oppressing feeling went away.
They were silent for a while, her never relaxing her firm grip around him, and once again, he wanted to tell her how strong his feelings for her were, and didn't dare to. But he had to say something – anything – and before he could think about it, he found himself apologizing – sounding like an idiot – an asking the silliest, most mundane question instead.
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"
Her arms tightened around him.
"I woke up. You were gone. I was cold, and I couldn't go back to sleep."
He pulled his free hand out of his pocket, and brushed lightly it against her own.
She relaxed her embrace and moved back, pulling his arm gently, making him turn around to face her. Even though she had just woken up, she was as gorgeous as ever. Her sleepy, slightly puffy eyes, tousled hair, and somewhat crumpled clothes seemed like the epitome of beauty to him. Before he knew it, he was raising his hand, with, in his mind, the intention to cup her face tenderly, but decided against it right in the middle of the gesture. Maybe she didn't want him to display such familiarity with her. Not yet. Not ever.
She noticed his hesitation, and smiled, reaching for his hand before he could let it fall next to his hip.
"Are you scared of me?" She looked at him intently, emotion surging through her eyes as she added : "Please. Don't be."
She pulled his hand to her face, kissing his palm, and he finally let himself brush his fingers against her cheek. She leaned in, and her face was then so close to his that their lips were brushing.
"Nami-san... Someone might see us."
"No way." She chuckled, her eyes half-lidded, obviously enjoying the moment. "You know how these idiots sleep like logs." She chuckled. "Nothing could wake Luffy unless you already started on breakfast. And I guess you didn't."
"Whatever. Let them see."
He relaxed ostensibly at these words, relief washing through him. He felt a smile creep onto his lips, and had a sudden impulse to embrace her, lift her in his arms, and make her twirl around. He muffled this silly urge, and instead, leaned in to kiss her softly, relishing the feeling of her sweet smell, slightly musky after last night, of her soft lips, of her smooth tongue, brushing against his own, and of her arms, firmly circled around his waist.
He hoped that he would have more than enough opportunities to make her twirl around, later. And he thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn't be that bad, after all.