"This always happens..."

"What did you say?"

"I said... This always happens!"

"I heard that part, I meant, what did you say?"

"If you heard me, then why are you asking me to repeat myself, Marimo?"

There was a pause, followed by inaudible mumbling.

"Oh, I see. Well what I meant was, you're SHIT for directions, and you're USELESS so this ALWAYS happens!"

The tense silence after the slender man's outburst was only broken by the sound of embers fizzling out in the snow bank beneath him as he flicked his dying cigarette away.

"Oi," the swordsman began through gritted teeth.

"Mm?" his counterpart raised a curled brow.

"If I'm such shit, then why did you follow me?"

Another thoughtful pause ensued after the second outburst, this time broken by the clicking of a lighter igniting a new cigarette.

"Temporary lapse of judgment on my part," Sanji held the smoke in his lungs calmly while explaining himself before exhaling dramatically and finishing his thought. "I wrongly assumed you could follow a trail while I searched for something edible. Obviously I was mistaken."

A vein throbbed on Zoro's forehead.

"I, however, kept up my end of the deal," Sanji smugly displayed a satchel of wild berries and roots.

"There is no trail! It's all snow!" Zoro retorted, desperately trying to remain calm and prevent the eyebrow freak from the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

True enough, though, any signs of a trail had long since been buried in inches of snow. Logic told him that putting one foot in front of the other would lead them in a straight line, and walking backwards would take them back the way they came. How could that shitty cook think they were lost? They'd simply walk back the way they came and end up back at the ship.

"Oi, we've been walking in circles for at least an hour now."

"How is that even possible? I've been walking in a straight line! We need to go back... that... way."

Zoro pointed vaguely behind them.

"You really are as stupid as you look," Sanji chuckled.

"Can't be as stupid looking as you, curl-brow!"

"I'd kick your ass right now if it didn't compromise the integrity of this food I'm carrying, and I simply won't cook a bad meal for Nami-swan and Robin-chwan!"

"Tch, we'll head back then."

"We've been 'heading back' for the last hour!" the cook brushed accumulating snow off of his shoulders.

"No we haven't, we're going now!" Zoro turned on heel and began heading in a completely random direction with the cook close at his heel.

Admittedly, neither of them knew where they were and either one's guess was as good as the other. The two men trudged through the heavily falling snow, their vision slowly becoming more skewed as the sun set into the sky. Neither wanting to admit fault or pose a solution, they moved in silence for nearly half an hour before Sanji spoke through chattering teeth.

"We need to find a resting point, Zoro. We don't know how to get back to the others and it's too cold and dark to keep moving. Our best choice is to seek any kind of shelter for the night and head out in the morning," he said solemnly and decisively, once again flicking his cigarette into a forming snow bank.

Before Zoro had the opportunity to even consider whether or not he should agree or retort aggressively, something caught his eye in the distance.

"Do you see that?" he squinted.

"See what?" Sanji arced his neck and peered in the same direction. "Wait, is that...?"

"Smoke. And where there is smoke, there is fire. We'll find someone ahead, for better or for worse!"

A determined smile spread across Sanji's face to match Zoro's and he nodded. The two of them moved through the trees with a new determination in the direction of the billowing smoke cloud in the distance. It wasn't long at all before the scent of burning cherry wood began to tingle in their noses.

"Getting close," the green haired swordsman said plainly, his thumb resting on his hilt in readiness.

And then from the distance came a sight for sore eyes. A log cabin stood in the middle of the forest. Nothing but wilderness surrounded it in any direction. The men exchanged a quizzical look, but moved forward. The only sign of life was the chimney happily spouting out smoke. Zoro's senses remained heightened, his back arched and his eyes narrowed. Outside of the cook by his side, there seemed to be no other signs of life but one could never be too sure in an unfamiliar environment. They approached the small home cautiously, being sure to keep quiet and aware. Zoro could not tell if the roof was shingles, thatching, or otherwise because of the accumulation of snow blocking his view. The small glass windows were partially frosted over, but he wagered a peer inside could tell him worlds about the inhabitants. He gingerly crouched in front of the window and glanced inside. Embers glowed around one small flame still licking the sides of fireplace inside, casting a dull light over the rest of the home. The interior was meager and plain, but the swordsman could see that the home was empty but not abandoned.

"Tch, no one is home," he stood and announced, finally releasing his sword back to its sheath.

"You don't know that for sure," Sanji said and rapped his knuckles against the heavy wooden door.

The two stood waiting for several moments.

"Okay, that's enough!" Zoro let out a roar and pulled his swords from his side and began expertly slicing through the thick wood, ultimately leaving the door in a large pile of sawdust and splinters.

"Heh," the swordsman grinned smugly and gestured to Sanji, "After you."

The cook, however, merely deadpanned.

"Eh? What's wrong? We can go inside now!"

"You idiot! Now how are we supposed to stay out of the cold? You just ruined a perfect stranger's door! For all we know, a poor helpless woman could live here and you just destroyed her property!"

"How was I to know? The door was locked, and we needed to get in!"

"You don't know that the door was locked!"

"Then why did you knock?"

"I'm not just going to walk into someone else's home, that's rude!"

"Well I still did more than you did!"

"You're about to do more! We may as well make use of these pieces of wood and get the fire going again."

Zoro grumbled but obliged and began lifting and separating the broken pieces of the door. Sanji gingerly placed his satchel on a nearby counter top and removed his damp jacket, then draped it across a chair to dry out. The blond man cracked his neck and sauntered casually into the kitchen.


"What do you want, Marimo?"

"Why aren't you moving this wood?"

"I'm not the idiot who demolished the door. And besides, are you hungry?"

"No," Zoro lied, and his stomach ironically followed up with a loud, disgruntled rumble.

"Right. I'm sure our host won't mind if I help myself to the kitchen contents and whip up some soup, once he realizes how delicious my cooking is."

Zoro scoffed, warranting a dirty look from the chef, but said nothing and began tossing kindling to the dying flame.

"Seems they have running water here!" Sanji happily exclaimed from the kitchen and continued rummaging around. The sounds of a metal pot filling with water, knives expertly chopping through vegetables, and a variety of plopping sounds rang in the otherwise quiet room. Soon, the noises dulled and the air filled with a savory scent combined with the familiarity of tobacco. Zoro piled more wood remnants onto the flame and watched as they sparked and crackled. The strangest sensation overcame him as the fire warmed the front of his body and a cool gust of icy wind blew in from the missing door front and chilled his back. He turned himself to warm his back in time for the blond to approach him with a steaming bowl.

"Here," he gruffly shoved it to the swordsman. "Eat that. And make sure that fire doesn't go out while I look around. The weather looks like it'll be worse before it's better and we won't be doing any better than staying out there if we can't stay warm in here."

Without so much as a word of thanks, Zoro snatched the bowl and began gulping down the hot liquid, secretly grateful for it's nourishment and warmth. Sanji sneered once more, then casually drifted down the hallway, leaving Zoro alone. Curious enough to wonder, but not curious enough to follow, Zoro sat quietly and intently listened in to whatever it was the cook might be doing in the other room. He took slow and deliberate sips of his remaining soup as he deciphered the sounds of running water coming from down the hall. Assuming Sanji had found the shower and was cleaning himself up, Zoro chuckled to himself. How very like the cook to be stranded in the middle of nowhere and still attempt to keep up appearances. Nevertheless, Zoro took an unnecessary glance around the room to ensure no one was watching and then lifted his arm to take a whiff of his armpit. Upon taking a deep breath in, the green haired swordsman wrinkled his nose at the strikingly mule-like odor he was emitting. He snorted to himself, then shrugged it off. Honestly, at a time like this, did it matter if he was a little ripe? He'd clean up later, when it was more opportune. For now, the warmth of the flames dancing next to him and the warmth inside from the soup he would never admit was quite delicious and filling overcame him. The swordsman rearranged his legs and leaned back against the wall for more comfort.

A tapping sensation on Zoro's cheek stirred him. He rapidly blinked his eyes and instinctively reached upwards to his mouth to wipe away any drool from him lips. He looked up to see a very unamused cook trying to rouse him from his apparent slumber. Sanji stood before him, hair slightly damp and cheeks flushed red from the heat of the shower. Zoro blinked again dumbfounded, still in a stupor from waking up.

"I leave for 20 minutes and this is what happens," Sanji extended a hand to offer Zoro help up, but the swordsman brushed him away and stood up independently. "It's all as well, we can get some rest now. I found the bedroom."

Zoro scratched the back of his head and stretched out the crick in his neck as he followed the cook down the hall. As the left the fireplace, the temperature became distinctively lower. Sanji opened a door and gestured for Zoro to follow him in. It was a simple bedroom with nothing in it save for a wardrobe, a full length mirror, and a double size bed. Zoro sat on the edge of it, appreciating the welcoming mattress.

"And where will you sleep?" he asked the blond.

"There is only one bedroom," came the simple response.

"Then I will go sleep on the floor," Zoro supplied.

"There is no room on this floor, Zoro," Sanji raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"The floor where I was just now," the swordsman sighed.

"With that draft? If the fire should go out, you're no better off indoors than out, you idiot!"

"Why are you so damn determined to get me in bed with you?"

"It's common sense! We have to stay in the same bed for warmth and safety! Don't you think I'd much rather bunk with someone smart and attractive?"

"Maybe I'd rather freeze to death and keep my dignity!"

"Tch. I'm going to sleep," and with that Sanji began unbuckling his belt and wriggling out of his pants.

Zoro felt a warm flush creeping over his cheeks and he turned away just in time to hear the sound of fabric crumpling on the hardwood floor, followed closely by the dull, metallic thud of the belt buckle. He gingerly perched himself on the edge of the bed once more and delicately began unlacing his boots in immense concentration. His back inadvertently stiffened when he felt weight on the other side of the bed when Sanji sat down and began rearranging the covers to settle in for the night. Still facing away from the slender blond, Zoro finally kicked off his boots and proceeded to gently slink beneath the blankets, too. He surreptitiously slithered down the length of the bed until his head rested somewhat comfortably on the unfamiliar pillow. Body rigid, Zoro lay on his side on what was virtually the literal edge of the bed.

Sanji, on the other hand, was clearly less embarrassed over the situation. He had casually settled into the center of the bed and curled up cozily. Zoro sat in silence, listening to the blond's rhythmic breathing.

"You're useless..." the cook murmured.

"Eh?" Zoro put up a defense and gracelessly flipped himself over to face the back of Sanji's head.

"That's better."


Sanji sensed the query plastered across the swordsman's face and replied, "We have to be somewhat close to conserve body heat."

"Hnn," the larger man grunted in acknowledgment. He did not move, but he remained perfectly stiff.

The slender form in front of him, however, visibly relaxed and his breathing grew more and more steady as he slipped off into slumber. The pale moonlight cast through the large, frosty windowpane and coupled with the slowly falling, fat snowflakes cast strange but alluring shadows across the mussed tresses of yellow hair before him. Zoro absentmindedly watched the pale, exposed shoulder rise and fall, causing the thin undershirt the cook wore to wrinkle and then un-wrinkle with each draw of breath he took. The swordsman had never intentionally watched someone fall asleep before, but then again the opportunity had never particularly arisen in the past. It was strangely relaxing, watching his rival sleep peacefully beside him. Slowly, he realized the tension he'd been holding in his upper body and let it slip away slowly with each exhale. He naturally found his breathing matching the cook's, and relaxed further.

Soon, though, he noticed Sanji's body had began to tremble. He would inhale normally, but upon each exhale his slim form would visibly shiver. Conflicted, Zoro watched for several moments, unmoving. Eventually he gingerly pulled the blanket up to cover more of the skin that seemed to glisten in the moonlight. His thumb lightly graced the bare arm, and he noted how smooth the cook's skin felt.

'Hm. Must be the excessive bathing,' Zoro thought to himself.

He waited for a moment, but the shiver did not desist. How could he be so chilled? Zoro felt fine. Maybe... maybe that's why he had been so set on conserving body heat? Actually, that was kind of sad. Unsure of whether or not it was something he was all around comfortable with doing, Zoro tactfully crept forward until his chest was just barely ghosting against the blond's back. Despite the man in front of him being a pervert, a shitty cook, and an eyebrow freak, he was still Zoro's nakama and he needed Zoro right now. He was just very lucky that he was unconscious and unable to experience Zoro's struggle. The swordsman bit his lip and wriggled his right arm underneath the pillows to rest between their heads. His left arm balanced against his body, his wrist resting mid thigh.

Sanji's body responded favorably to the new source of warmth. A ragged sigh whispered through his parted lips and his body relaxed into Zoro's. The swordsman's breath hitched as the cook's body found itself pressed closer to his. Sanji's back pressed flush against Zoro's midsection and his head tilted back, exposing his neck slightly. He heaved another shaky sigh. Zoro squirmed as he felt the smaller man's bare thighs rub up against him, their flesh only separated by the thin layer of fabric that compromised the swordsman's trousers. He was quite grateful for his previous sense of prudence.

The hand he had been resting on his own leg was now suspiciously close to Sanji's, clad only in his underwear. Upon realizing this, Zoro's eyes shot open and he quickly pulled his arm up. He sat there with his arm raised in the air for a good several moments, unsure of what exactly to do with himself in this situation. It wasn't until the blood began draining that he begrudging decided to drape it across Sanji's waist. When the decision came down to resting his hand on Sanji's clothed midsection or Sanji's bare leg, the decision seemed obvious. The swordsman nervously lowered his now shaky hand to softly rest against the cook's stomach. He jerked back slightly upon realizing the thin undershirt had slid up, exposing a trail of hair starting at his navel and leading into the band of his underwear. Unwilling to move again, Zoro simply let his finger tips tangle in the mess of coarse hairs on Sanji's slight waist. His head found itself nuzzled slightly into the back of Sanji's neck and he idly explored the hairs on the cook's otherwise smooth body. He had never been so close as to take in the slender blond's scent before. The fresh scent of plain soap lingered on his skin, blended subtly with the odor of stale tobacco and a scent that the swordsman couldn't quite place, something he could only describe as... Sanji. Holding him felt so natural in this setting. Heart pounding, he flexed his muscles and deftly pulled the blond in to a point of near impossible closeness.

A gentle tickle of hot breath on his neck roused Sanji from his slumber. He felt a slight weight around his middle and subtly looked down to take note of the darker, burly arm wrapped around him, the swordsman's gruff hand resting quite close to the band of his underwear. Somewhat confused, somewhat intrigued, the cook nonchalantly informed Zoro of his conscious state by backing up his hips suddenly and turning his head just enough to make eye contact by peering over his shoulder.

"You... you were cold..." Zoro stammered and felt a hot flush creep across his cheeks.

"Thanks," Sanji whispered, realizing the kind of fun he could have.

He rocked his hips back once more, but this time less forcefully and more rhythmically with a distinct purpose. He arched his back and let out a sigh, smirking to himself when he felt Zoro's strong grip on him tightened. Zoro let out a somewhat pained sound.

"Now what's wrong, marimo?"

"Isn't is obvious that this is very uncomfortable?"

"Hmm." Sanji wriggled backwards, pressing himself against Zoro's firm body once again. "It's this or freeze, you know."

"I know..." Zoro strained a whisper into Sanji's ear.

Prior to this moment, the cook had merely been relishing in the aggravation he had managed to cause for the shitty swordsman. But now, she sheer ache in his voice awakened something in the smaller man. A lump formed in the back of his throat and he instinctively reached his arm backwards to entangle his fist in locks of green hair. Zoro's fingertips wriggled wantonly to the slim and defined hip bone, where he grasped rather tightly and rocked himself ever so slightly against Sanji in response. Sanji felt a warm, solid mass pressing against him and his heart began to thump intensely.

Zoro had thus forth abandoned any previous concern or rationale. He felt a unique combination of confusion and desire bubbling inside him. The blood coursed through his veins and drained from his head, leaving him feeling dizzy and clouded. This was Sanji in front of him, but something about being this close to him was frankly irresistible. His scent, the pale glow of his soft skin in the moonlight, the way his golden tresses fell in a mess against the pillow, his slender body... the way he was responding positively instead of receding and stopping Zoro... it was all driving the swordsman into a state of frustration he had not previously realized he was in.

Sanji was taken aback. To say he was unprepared was an understatement. That is, he was not prepared that morning when they left to end up alone in a strange cabin in a bed with Zoro, much less to have Zoro unabashedly pawing at him. Although he was certainly enjoying the physical attention he craved, albeit from a different source than he had previously fantasized about, he temporarily broke away in order to turn around and face the aggressive swordsman.

Surprised with how disappointed he was to lose his grip on the squirming blond beneath him, Zoro reluctantly released Sanji when he tried wriggling free. He all but licked his lips as he failed at casually giving the cook a once over with his greedy eyes. Sanji smirked at the lust driven swordsman.

"You got in bed with your clothes on? What good are you?" Sanji scoffed at him.

"I... it was... cold... and..." Zoro glanced down, suddenly feeling very foolish.

"No matter," Sanji quickly stuck his fingers under the hem of Zoro's haramaki, lingering only briefly enough to ghost past the band of his pants, and began helping the swordsman shuffle out of both it, and his shirt. The cook slowly let the tips of his fingers trail down the swordsman's scar, brushing over his otherwise perfect upper body, and causing Zoro to very visibly shudder at his touch. He removed his hand only long enough to rip off his own undershirt and then toss it carelessly to the floor. His fingers danced up Zoro's bulging arm and came to rest on his pecs. The swordsman's chest heaved with erratic breathing as the cook inched closer, their faces incredibly close, each man's hot and baited breath tickling the other's moistened lips.

"Zoro...?" Sanji whispered, barely audible.

"Mmm...?" Zoro panted.

"Is this..." Sanji draped an arm over Zoro's shoulder, once more tangling his hand in the increasingly mussed green hair, "...is this what you want?"

"No," Zoro stated plainly, then leaned in and pressed his cheek against Sanji's, sending the cook's mind and heart racing. "It's what YOU want. This is what I need."

Sanji reeled his head around and sloppily crushed his lips against Zoro's. Green eyebrows knitted on the swordsman's forehead and he hungrily probed into the cook's willing mouth. The taste of stale tobacco coupled with the unique sweetness of Sanji's own taste swirled over Zoro's tongue and managed to cause him further throbbing and discomfort, warranting a groan to escape into the kiss. A similar sensation churned inside Sanji as the swordsman's tongue expertly maneuvered over his own. The wanton groans genuinely aroused the cook and he moaned in response, feeling a warm tingling sensation grow in his lower abdomen. A dull throb grew from the tingle until it developed into a carnal ache. The swordsman did not break the kiss, but wrapped each finger around Sanji's waist and drew him nearer, until Sanji felt his own swollen member rubbing up against Zoro's impressive bulge. Libidinous compulsions washed over the cook and he gyrated aggressively against the larger man before him, groaning as each thrust drove him into the throbbing warmth concealed withing Zoro's dark pants. Zoro responded in turn by grinding even harder and pressing himself flush to the cook, his broad chest resting against the cook's slighter form. The small mass of hairs on the blond man's chest tickled Zoro's smooth chest. The swordsman held his counterpart's thin form in place and let his hand slide down to rest in the dip at the small of his back. His eyes opened slightly as he broke away from the kiss to catch a breath. The cook's deep blue eyes remained shut as he sighed at the parting. Zoro took a moment to drink in the view of Sanji's flushed pale skin and the lingering droplets of moisture remaining on his soft, full lips.

Sanji reveled in the feel of the strong hand resting on his spine and the hot pressure throbbing next to his own. He looked up to Zoro's chiseled face and smirked at the sight of his defined, knitted brows and the beads of sweat forming above them. In the moment of opportunity, he brushed his arms past Zoro's flexed muscles and snaked them around the rippling torso. His nails traced up and down the swordsman's back and he leaned in to plant delicate kisses between the scarred pectoral and collarbone. The salty taste of old sweat mixed with new lingered on the cook's tongue. Eager to taste the sweet yet pungent flavor again, he dragged his wet tongue up the tender skin of Zoro's thick neck up to his ear where he panted heavily and nipped the lobe just above his jewelry and caused Zoro to take a sharp inhale.

"What's wrong, Marimo?" Sanji teased seductively, "Can't handle it?"

Without waiting for any kind of response, Sanji rolled onto his back while pulling Zoro on top of him. The two quickly shifted their weight appropriately. The cook ran his hands down the swordsman's back, starting from his shoulders and ending to rest at his hips on his pants' waistband. His fingers expertly slipped under the band, which was fitting quite more snugly than usual. One hand slipped a bit lower and became engulfed in the fabric. Almost immediately it was greeted by Zoro's pulsating cock. With no reservation, he ran him thumb down the length of the shaft and stopped just before reaching the swordsman's aching balls. He retraced his path back to the top and brushed his thumb over the slit, coating himself with a sticky layer of precum. The blond slicked his digit over the tremendously swollen head and the green haired man above him released a deep, guttural groan.

"Guess I'll just have to see how much you can take," Sanji whispered, dragging his thumb across Zoro's tip once again.

The muscular man's back arched with every slight movement, and with each retract of his muscles, he emitted an array of appreciative sounds varying from sharp hisses to low moans of unadulterated pleasure. Sanji found very little room to maneuver within the confines of the slightly dampened trousers. His limited range disallowed him to do much aside caress Zoro's neglected cock with the pad of his thumb. In one quick motion he withdrew his hand. The swordsman's eyes widened in desperation, clearly fearing that Sanji had changed his mind. As a suave gesture of reassurance to the muscular man above him, the cook pursed his lips in a pout and winked slyly. Zoro furrowed his brow and bit his lip. Sanji's slender fingers made their way back to Zoro's pants, but this time they effortlessly flew over the button fly and nimbly released the aching prisoner. A mossy green nest of matted hairs sat on the base of the thick, swollen shaft. Sanji gripped the ample flesh and pulled up in an agonizingly slow twist, committing each misplaced hair and bulging vein to memory. Zoro's teeth clenched and he panted, writhing under the cook's touch.

"You're bigger than I had realized," the blond stated, and a smug smirk came as the reply.

While one hand idly remained stroking and softly fondling the impressive cock, his other hand made quick work of shimmying out of his constraining underwear and exposing his own raging length. Zoro supported himself with one arm and utilized the other to follow suit and further lower his pants. Once the cook had successfully removed his last remaining article of clothing, he drew the swordsman nearer to him. Zoro's triceps bulged dramatically as he lowered himself closer to Sanji. Pale fingers tightened their grip and twisted more forcefully this time, lingering at the head to roll slightly and gently flick the slit. He then tilted Zoro's cock somewhat downward while lifting his hips until his own cock gently brushed against the one he held. A violent shudder overcame the larger man at the contact and produced a large bead of precum to drip from his head and run down the shaft.

Sanji titled his head back and released a low whine as he rubbed himself against Zoro, then used Zoro's precum to lubricate his own shaft. He opened his grip and brought his own cock into his hand along with the swordsman's. He squeezed tightly, feeling the blood pulsating in both of their engorged members. With a slow jerking motion, he twisted up and down, holding their cocks together. He bit his lip and felt a hot flush spread across his cheeks as he worked.

"Right," panted Zoro, "this has gone on long enough."

To the cook's surprise, Zoro lowered himself yet again and deftly replaced Sanji's slender hand with his own grizzled hand and began furiously pumping both cocks against each other. Sanji's hands grasped into the bed, erratically clawing at the sheets in desperation. His mind focused on the heavy breathing above him, his body writhed without his permission. The aggressive and carnal touch of the man above him drove him wild. It wasn't long before a hot, burning sensation began to churn inside him, burning hotter and hotter. He could feel that even the tips of his ears must be quite pink. A flash of heat washed over his body. His hips bucked forward jerkily and his body trembled. Zoro worked the two of them faster, struggling to keep the slender blond's writhing form in check. A choked whine slipped out from full parted lips and his breath caught in his throat. The swordsman felt the cook's member pulsate intensely and swell to its full potential.

"Ah, Zoro...! I-" Sanji choked out an incoherent whine in an attempt to warn the man above him of what was about to come.

Taking the cue, a grin curled over Zoro's determined lips and he pressed on. His breathing became labored and heightened, and then his heart skipped a beat. The slim, pale form beneath him panted and whined as Zoro felt a wet heat dripping down his hand. He glanced down and watched in silent awe as Sanji's seed spilling down his digits. The smaller man's body tensed and squirmed below him, the sticky fluid pumping from his tip. It coated Zoro's fingers and palm as he worked the two shafts and acted as a thick lubricant. The overwhelming knowledge that it was he who had caused such a stirring reaction in the cook overtook him. He released a low, raspy gasp and groaned as his tempo increased and he, too, let his body reach its release. The hot semen from his own cock took no time to mix in with Sanji's and sat in a dripping mess over his hand. Zoro let his messed hand go limp, and relinquished his grasp on both his member and the cook's. He sat still, gasping for breath.

Sanji rearranged himself slightly and sat somewhat upright, drawing himself closer to the swordsman. His curled eyebrow quirked up at Zoro and he flipped some of his tussled out of his face, revealing more of his very flushed cheeks. A wicked smile spread across his lips before he lowered his head until it was level with Zoro's limp hand. The swordsman's back arched in surprise when he felt Sanji's hot, wet tongue pressed against his palm and expertly glide upwards, only stopping when he reached Zoro's rough fingertip. He paused for a moment to lap up the sticky, white mess and then delved down, engulfing two more of Zoro's fingers in his mouth. His tongue spread the fingers apart in his mouth and swirled around the flesh, leaving them clean. He released the digits with a slight popping sound, then ran his tongue over his lips seductively. If the swordsman had not reached his climax just prior to this moment, he was sure that this would have been the act to push him over the edge. He moaned his approval and Sanji smirked in response.

Muscles shaking from the intense release, Zoro flopped over onto his back and sighed. Upon being freed from his position underneath the man who now lay to his side, Sanji took the opportunity to reach into his pants pocket on the floor and retrieve a cigarette. He lit up and relaxed against the headboard.

"Thanks for warming me up," he said, casually releasing a billowing cloud of smoke.

Zoro merely grunted in response.

"We'll head out in the morning. I'm sure Nami-san is very hungry without me there to cook for her," Sanji butted out his cigarette.

"After that, you're thinking about Nami?"

"Shut up, Marimo," Sanji chuckled and scooted closer to the broad man next to him.

Zoro scowled, but let his surly expression fade ever so slightly when Sanji laid his head against his bare chest and nestled in under his arm, pulling the blankets up over them. The swordsman laid his head back and let the soft sounds of the cook's light breathing lull him in to sleep. He wasn't exactly sure why things played out the way they did that night, but he was more than happy hoping to relive it again and again.