A.N. The title is from a poem by Robert Frost.
The air was chilly. It had been raining for three days straight and it had just stopped in the early morning hours when Zoro was still sleeping. He was wearing his dark pants; they were a little thick and always kept him warm. They weren't comfortable but they were warm and that was all that mattered. The wind blew softly, sending crusty leaves to slide against Zoro's boot as they skittered past him. It was the middle of the day but it didn't feel like it. The sky was always a frightening shade of grey and midnight blue no matter the time of day on Kuraigana Island.
Mihawk and him were out in the middle of the forest, having gone outside for a training session. Mihawk hardly ever talked when he instructed him. He usually began with telling Zoro of an exercise and let him to it, watching silently from a distance like the king of creeps that he was.
Zoro's back muscles tensed, and his hands gripped his katana harder in a tight hold, concentrating on nothing but Wado. He opened his eyes and swung his sword just the way Mihawk showed him. After executing it, he wiped the sweat from his brow, turning his head to look at Mihawk. It troubled him how much the man tended to stare. Every time he turned, his eyes were on him. It was something to be done, since Mihawk had to study his movements to tell him exactly what he was doing wrong, but his yellow eyes were natural, and so was the amount of time he tended to stare. Zoro never outwardly showed his discomfort, instead settling for staring right back, waiting for Mihawk's suggestion on what he should work on next.
For the most part, Mihawk liked to tell him he was as graceful as a bloated hippo and had the footwork of a drunken dancer with two left feet. He was always harsh, but Zoro just took it, figuring he had to listen to him if he wanted to improve, even if Mihawk was an absolute ass about it.
Zoro turned his attention back to Wado and the woods ahead of him but Zoro couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. The hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle and his back muscles clenched. Almost the same feeling when he was about to get attacked. He looked over his shoulder and saw Mihawk looking right at him. Zoro would have relaxed, knowing it was just Mihawk, but he couldn't help but think that there was something different about his eyes. He couldn't place it, but his eyes looked different somehow, and that feeling that spiked in Zoro's gut and told him that he was in danger lingered.
The older man stood then, and Zoro's body tensed, preparing for an attack, but Mihawk calmly walked to him, no sign of malicious intent on his person. He moved to stand directly behind him, placing his hands over Zoro's gently. Zoro's body froze for a moment, but the man behind him didn't seem to mind. He moved closer to Zoro's ear. "Swing like this," he instructed.
Zoro did, hands moving along with Mihawk's hands, letting himself be guided. His swing had been better than the last, almost as perfect as Mihawk's. Yet, Mihawk didn't move, and Zoro made no protest. He stayed there, pressed against the man. He felt Mihawk's warmth pressing against his back, surprisingly gentle fingers still over his. Zoro tried to ignore Mihawk's soft breaths against his ear.
There was something blossoming in his stomach, and he hated himself for getting all tingly around Mihawk. He swung again with Mihawk's hands over his own, gently guiding his hand. They stayed silent as Zoro took down a tree, watching it fall to its side, thick tree branches making a loud crackling at they fell over the over, the loud thump of the massive trunk hitting the ground.
"Better," Mihawk said, his hands releasing Zoro's.
Zoro let out a breath he had been holding, happy that Mihawk was going to let him go. He had thought Mihawk was going to let him go. Mihawk's hands did leave Zoro's, but they travelled to delicately press against his abdominals, feeling the groves of his stomach through his shirt. Zoro remained unmoving, his breath even, even if his heart was racing.
Mihawk's fingers continued to trace lines down his front, and Zoro couldn't tell if Mihawk enjoyed it or if it was some kind of training exercise. It was when Mihawk's fingers travelled lower, fingers touching the band of his pants that Zoro understood it was definitely not a training exercise.
"Oi. Hawk eyes, what are you doing?"
His words were caught in his throat when he felt a pair of moist lips on his neck. It caught him so off guard that his breath was becoming uneven. Mihawk's lips left a blazing trail along his neck, moving to his jaw line as his hands sneaked under the waistband of his black pants. They carefully trailed over his happy trail, feeling Zoro's dark green curls there. Zoro's body suddenly felt very hot.
Zoro couldn't find it in himself to move. If Mihawk wanted to get him off he wasn't going to stop him.
It….had been a while.
Mihawk's fingers tangled in his dark curls, and Zoro let out a sigh. He leaned back against Mihawk's chest, craving body contact because he hadn't felt pleasure like that this since he had left Johnny and Yosaku to go on his own. Mihawk's hands stopped right before touching his cock, hand tentatively staying there while the other came to rest on his hip. Mihawk didn't move, and he wasn't speaking. Zoro figured he stopped to see if Zoro would make a move to stop him.
Zoro slowly nodded, barely noticeable, but Mihawk caught it, hand going lower until he took hold of his cock, pulling him out from his trousers. Zoro closed his eyes as Mihawk's fingers worked him masterfully, sliding along his length, from base to his crown. His thumb pulled back the foreskin, pressing his thumb to his head.
When he let up, lifting his thumb, a clear thin trail of pre cum stuck to his finger, leading to Zoro's swollen cock. He let Mihawk take care of him, experienced hand working him perfectly, applying the right amount of grip, knowing when to squeeze so pain and pleasure mixed in.
The heat from the man's body was filling Zoro's chest with a feeling he had almost forgotten, a feeling he had missed. It was welcomed warmth. He shivered when Mihawk shifted his head so that his sitting on the crook of his shoulder and neck, his stubble brushing against Zoro's collar.
Zoro didn't want to stop Mihawk. He didn't want to face the reality that he had an older man's hand down his pants, or that the older man happened to be the man he was supposed to defeat in order to achieve his dream. An older man who was responsible for the massive scar on his chest.
He didn't have to think of how he was just giving into his primal needs, letting Mihawk touch him in such an intimate way, never making a move to stop him. Zoro didn't think of that, didn't want to, because he wanted to enjoy the feeling while it lasted.
When he came, which was way quicker than he had hoped -it had been a while - his knees shook as his semen splattered on the dry leaves beneath his feet.
Zoro looked down at the cum covered earth, his seed thick and dripping off the corners of the leaves around his boots. He stared down at it, taking in the sight and committing it to memory. He felt plagued with the thought that that sight was important somehow.
After his orgasm, he had tucked himself back in, zipping his pants and turned, fully intending to return the favour, just like he had done with Johnny and Yosaku many times before. Mihawk however, stopped him. Zoro had felt embarrassed and confused. He couldn't figure out if Mihawk didn't consider him good enough or if he was just a bastard that liked to reject Zoro's advances.
Either way, things went back to normal. They would go outside for some training then go back inside, where Mihawk would sit by the fire and read his paper. Zoro would drink whenever Perona got too annoying. The days went on without incident and Zoro set his mind to meditation and weight lifting. He didn't dwell on Mihawk's actions, instead focusing on his training.
It really did come as a surprise to him when he was pinned against the wall of Mihawk's room, Mihawk's fingers in his mouth, his lips parted around Zoro's erection, sucking him in earnest.
It wasn't an uncommon thing for Zoro to go to Mihawk's room to wake the man. He slept almost as much as Zoro himself, so he found it upon himself to wake him so they could begin their morning training. Usually, Mihawk threw the covers off and went to wash off before meeting Zoro out in the hall. That wasn't what Mihawk did when Zoro woke him though.
When he pushed the covers off himself he had stepped into Zoro's space, and while Zoro was unprepared for it, he saw it coming. Mihawk pinned him to the wall, kissing is neck as his hands unzipped his pants, lowering himself on his knees as Zoro stayed still, pressed against the wall.
Zoro panted against Mihawk's fingers, feeling them press harder against his tongue. He had difficulty standing, but he refused to let Mihawk see his knees shaking. He already felt so weak compared to him, he didn't want to add to the list of reasons why he felt weak.
Mihawk squeezed his hip, thumb pressing to his hip, a sensitive area for him. He gasped softly. He looked down, mesmerized by the sight of Mihawk on his knees, lips stretched to wrap tightly around his flushed cock. He had started slow, but he was working up a rhythm. He could feel every inch of his mouth, sucking him. Mihawk was relying on his tongue to lap the underside of his cock to make Zoro shudder.
Yosaku had been able to do this thing where he could press his cock against his gums, and well, that was a good experience even if it sounded anything but.
Zoro's hands went to tangle in Mihawk's black hair, tightening in grip, panting as he sucked him off. His throat tightened around him and that was all it took. Zoro curled forward, gripping his hair, coming in Mihawk's mouth in hot pulses, deep spasms of pleasure overtaking him, ecstasy making him weak as it flooded his body, especially down in his groin. He settled back to lean against the wall, watching Mihawk wipe his lips.
He had swallowed.
That fact made Zoro sink to his knees, landing before Mihawk. He faced the older man, panting hard, taking in that he had swallowed every bit of him. Zoro reached out, much to his own surprise, caressing Mihawk's cheek. Mihawk didn't lift his eyes to meet him.
He felt an overwhelming need to kiss him, to taste himself on his lips. He titled his head, moving closer to taste him when Mihawk pulled his head back. Zoro shrugged. If he didn't want to do that, that was fine with him. Zoro reached out, hands going to Mihawk's waistband, planning to jerk him off, when Mihawk stopped him.
"You don't have to."
"I don't mind," Zoro replied honestly, fingertips hovering over the leather material of his belt. He enjoyed bringing others to orgasm as well, loved hearing the sounds when close to climax.
Mihawk looked at him suddenly, conviction on his face. "You don't have to," he repeated. "You can leave."
Zoro didn't know what to do, much less what to say, so he stood, tucking himself back in. He left Mihawk's room without looking back at the man.
Zoro had gone outside, sitting in the middle of the worn down cobblestones, the stonewalls keeping him sheltered from the cool wind. From where he was, he was hidden from the castle, and unless someone came looking for him, they wouldn't find him. It had taken him an hour to find the place, even if it was a ten-minute walk.
What had happened with Mihawk was still troubling him. For obvious reasons, it had been a mistake. He was supposed to be taking residence in his castle and receive training from him, nothing more. Receiving oral from Mihawk was not part of the deal and had been a mistake. Zoro wasn't one to have regrets in life, but he seriously misjudged the consequences and was having trouble getting over it.
No action is without consequence.
Koshiro had told him many times, trying to tell him to think before acting. Unfortunately, Zoro never seemed to learn. This was more problematic than the simple, 'thinking with his dick' problem. Zoro knew he should have stopped Mihawk long before the man ever touched him. He scrunched his closed eyes down even tighter, begrudgingly accepting that his thoughts weren't going to leave him in peace. He opened his eyes, looking around the place. He enjoyed the place, and usually went to hide so he could meditate, which was a fruitless effort at the moment.
Getting to his feet, he pulled out Wado. He closed his eyes, feet moving to a stance his body had memorized. He raised his arms over his head, holding Wado high. He took a steady step forward, just as his arms came down, Wado coming to point ahead of him at an invisible enemy. He pushed thoughts of Mihawk form his mind. Thoughts of his warm hands over his burning flesh-
He wasn't going there.
Exhaling, he relaxed his shoulders again, trying to clear his mind.
Hot mouth so delicious, sucking him-
He opened his eyes, rubbing them with the palm of his hand. It wasn't working.
He sighed again, this time, absolutely committed to not think about it.
He wasn't going to think of how he had swallowed…
Zoro let out a frustrated sigh. Obviously not thinking about it wasn't going to work. He gripped Wado tighter, feeling the need to stab and to slice as many things as he could rise in him. He hadn't felt so blood thirsty and in a while.
The sound of heavy footsteps stepping over branches behind him set him on edge. He turned, watching Mihawk step out from the woods around them, stepping onto the stones, walking towards Zoro. He yanked the bandana off his sweaty temple. He had lost track of how long he had been slicing stones and making them crumble.
"What do you want?" he asked, narrowing his eyes for good measure.
Mihawk eyed him. "You shouldn't overexert yourself like that. You'll wear out your muscles completely by the time you get to my age."
Zoro didn't flinch or move when Mihawk closed the gap between them. Mihawk stared down at him, and Zoro made sure not to break eye contact with him. Mihawk ducked his head, kissing his neck softly, licking the shell of his ear with a caring tongue.
"This morning was a mistake," he murmured.
Zoro remained still, standing stiffly, staring ahead of him, past Mihawk's head, looking at the castle. He didn't know how Mihawk could say one thing; then do another.
"It was," Zoro agreed, arching into Mihawk's hands as they ran up his sides, settling on his hips, thumbs pressing into the groove that lead to his groin.
"We should stop," Mihawk said, unconvincingly.
"Yeah." Zoro sighed when Mihawk sunk to his knees. Mihawk unzipped his pants, his cock springing out. Mihawk licked the tip before taking him in his mouth, taking him in until Zoro could feel the back of Mihawk's throat.
Zoro remained unresponsive to him. He didn't moan, didn't grab Mihawk's hair or breath heavily. He did nothing to betray the waves of sensations hitting him all at once. Then, Mihawk's hands went round, grabbing full handfuls of his ass, and squeezed just right. Zoro's body jolted, and he hated his body for giving him away. Mihawk made a noise, and Zoro knew he was somehow pleased by his response.
Mihawk's hands pulled on his black pants, pulling them down until they fell to his ankles, swimming around his boots. Mihawk caressed his thighs before moving to grab his ass again, squeezing, his fingertips digging into his flesh. Zoro felt himself shuddering.
Mihawk's lips slurped on him, mouth deliciously caving in around his length, tongue slipping around his cock. Zoro found it hard to keep his voice down, to keep from letting Mihawk exactly just how good he was at giving head, but he did keep it to himself, keeping quiet.
Instead, his hands flew to Mihawk's hair, gripping tight, holding his head in place as he thrust into his mouth. He could feel the way his throat was taking him in, opening up to take in as much of Zoro as he could as Zoro's hips bucked. Mihawk didn't still his hips; rather, he took him in, sucking even harder as Zoro fucked his mouth. The hands lingering on his hips but made no move to stop the pace of his hips, making no fight to stop Zoro from fucking his mouth.
It made Zoro spiral over the end, coming hard into Mihawk's waiting mouth.
After a few sessions with Mihawk, Zoro realized Mihawk was the kind of older man who got off sucking young cock.
He had only heard about those kinds of men, mostly from Johnny. He had always told Zoro of his pubescent years when he had started a relationship with a much older man. The older man – who always remained nameless - would suck his cock, get off from it, and leave. Johnny always had a sad gleam in his eyes whenever he mentioned that the older man.
But that's all it was to Zoro, just a story. He never expected it to happen to him. Much less, he could barely phantom why an older man would suck cock without getting sucked back. It just didn't make sense to him. Not that he minded giving back, he just mostly did it as a thank you or something equally as fucked up.
He never did say anything to Johnny about it. Never asked him how he felt, or why Johnny liked to tell that story repeatedly over drinks even if it did cause him pain. Even though Johnny hid behind his dark shades most of time, his sunglasses concealing the glints in his eyes, the emotion that bled through his words always got to Zoro. He never understood it, never knew why Johnny felt the way he did about the older man he could never forget.
He thought these things while lying in bed, head cushioned by soft red wine pillows, Mihawk's head between his legs, deep throating him.
Zoro stared blankly at the ceiling, not really seeing it all, hands absentmindedly running through Mihawk's soft hair. He was really good at giving head, usually Zoro had to jerk off before going to meet Mihawk so he could last longer.
That time with Mihawk, when he had fucked his mouth outside in plain view, Zoro had discovered something about Mihawk. After coming in his mouth, Zoro had ungracefully landed on his knees in front of Mihawk, taking a moment to catch his breath. He ducked his head, panting, his eyes looking at Mihawk's thighs. His eyes wandered to Mihawk, to check it he was hard.
He wasn't hard at all. In fact, there was no sign that Mihawk felt anything except for the wet spots in front of his crotch. Mihawk come just from sucking on Zoro's dick. Mihawk had caught Zoro staring, and he had given Zoro a look, but didn't deny what they both knew.
Knowing that about Mihawk just made sex with him that much better. When Mihawk sucked him, he knew Mihawk was getting off as well. He had felt guilty because he was never able to return the favour. He had felt inadequate because he wasn't able to get Mihawk off. But he was able to.
Zoro let out a low moan when Mihawk applied pressure to his balls using his hand. He sucked him lazily, mouth and tongue taking their time in tasting Zoro. He was using his hands with the same kind of dexterity he showed on the battlefield. Zoro felt his thighs trembling and knew his orgasm would be on him soon.
He came with a choked moan, body seizing uncontrollably as a powerful orgasm took over.
It didn't surprise him when he found out Mihawk not only got off sucking young cock, but he also liked to get fucked by younger guys.
Perona was already asleep, having gone to bed early. Zoro was walking down the hall, and by chance, ran into Mihawk. The moon streamed in from the tall glass windows, giving Mihawk a pale glow. The older man was looking at him up and down, and Zoro wasn't sure what he was going to say to him until he did speak.
Mihawk looked him dead in the eye. "Are you a good fuck?"
Zoro couldn't do anything except stare. "What?"
He could tell Mihawk fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I said, are you a good fuck?"
Zoro didn't know how he should answer. Johnny and Yosaku often teased that he wasn't half bad, but he never ask for their honest opinion. He was at least good enough for them to come to his bed every night when they travelled together.
While Zoro was trying to think of an answer Mihawk just strolled off, heading to his room, not bothering to wait for his response. He left the door open, and the light from his room lit up the hallway Zoro was standing in. It took three seconds for Zoro to find the strength to head towards Mihawk's room, lust and curiosity taking over, a desire to be with him stronger than his decision to stay away from him.
Mihawk had his back to him, in the middle of taking off his shirt. Zoro stood still, watching his back muscles ripple, the light from the candle in his room playing patterns on his back. Mihawk unzipped, letting his pants fall to the floor, leaving him standing completely naked. Mihawk looked at him from over his shoulder, looking just as stern and serious as ever, even if he was currently stark naked in front of him. Just as graceful as every move he ever made, Mihawk moved to stretch out on his bed.
Zoro stood still in the doorway, taking in Mihawk's nakedness, his eyes going straight to Mihawk's cock, where his eyes were naturally drawn. He watched as Mihawk worked himself with his hand, jerking himself at a steady pace. Zoro became too aware of the tightness in groin. Mihawk lifted his head, looking at him. "Come here," he said, voice thick and rich, making Zoro weak, willing to do whatever Mihawk was going to ask of him.
He walked over to his bed, kicking off his boots on the way, careful to make his steps seem normal, not wanting to look too eager. He had expected Mihawk to ask him to finish jerking him off. He sat on the bed next to Mihawk, leaning over him, his eyes travelling over his nakedness.
Mihawk rolled onto his stomach, getting on his hands and knees, fisting his own red wine sheets. He was so exposed to Zoro, it shocked him to the core. His ass was lifted in the air, just begging Zoro to enter him. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight; his mind running through all the possibilities of what he could do the older swordsman.
"I want you to fuck me," Mihawk said.
Zoro took off his pants as if they were on fire. He was kneeling behind Mihawk moments later, completely naked as well, kissing Mihawk's spine as his lube-slicked fingers spread him. After a few minutes of minimal preparation, he entered Mihawk, groaning as he pressed deep inside of him. He held his breath, staying silent to take in every sound Mihawk made from the slightest movement of his hips.
He hadn't experienced sex like this with another man. He had only ever slept with Yosaku and Johnny, the two were more then willing to do anything he wanted, to fuck him or be fucked by him. Zoro just thought it was because they held him higher than anyone else, and while it did bother him that they placed him on a pedestal, he loved their openness in bed. Zoro just never expected Mihawk, or any other man to feel the same.
His hands wandered from their place on his hips, palms flattening over the curve of his back, moving to his spine, kneading his buttocks. Mihawk squeezed around him, still gasping underneath him, shuddering from Zoro's touches as they explored his skin. His hands wandered from his buttocks to his taunt stomach, moving lower to work Mihawk's length.
Zoro could barely stand it, Mihawk felt so good, and every time he pushed back Zoro was closer to orgasm. He began to thrust harder in response to Mihawk's low moans. Every soft noise that escaped Mihawk set Zoro closer to the edge, like he was ripping apart at his chest, making it hard to breath.
Mihawk came on Zoro's hand and all over his sheets. Zoro came a few moments later, still thrusting into him, sighing in Mihawk's ear after he heard Mihawk's deep and powerful baritone moaning out his name.
He landed on the bed next to Mihawk in exhaustion. Zoro took a few moments to get his lids adjusted to the darkened room before he stood, taking his time in pulling on his pants. He paused a moment, waiting to see if Mihawk would make protest. He looked back at the bed, and Mihawk wasn't even looking at him. Pulling his shirt on, he headed out without looking back.
It was a night similar to every single one Zoro had experienced since living with Mihawk. The room was dark, the bare branches of the tree from outside playing patterns against the walls of Mihawk's bedroom, not that either of them noticed. It was chilly, the stone walls from his home doing little to warm the place, and the fireplace Mihawk's room wasn't enough to keep them warm, their flushed skin doing a better job of that.
Zoro sucked along the older man's neck, kissing his throat, feeling the light pulse against his lips. He kissed along his jaw line, his cheek, heading towards his lips. Mihawk placed a hand on his mouth before he reached his lips. Zoro furrowed his eyebrows, and Mihawk glared back in equal measure. Zoro eventually looked away, giving up and kissing his neck again.
His lips lowered to his chest, taking a hard nipple between his teeth. He nibbled lightly, alternating to suck gently, then went back to kissing his way down his chest, down to his abs, hands slowly lowering Mihawk's pants. Mihawk's hands went to grab his wrist.
"Let me," Zoro said, palming his crotch, feeling his impressive member twitch under his touch.
Mihawk let go of his wrist, lying back down. Zoro offered him a grin before he bent his head, kissing Mihawk through his trousers, sucking at the material of his pants, feeling the other man starting to get hard. His tongue ran up his length, leaving a wet trail on Mihawk's black pants.
After some teasing, his hands went to his pants again, smirking when Mihawk lifted his hips, helping him remove them. He tossed them off the side of the bed, ducking his head to wrap his lips around him, sucking Mihawk just like Mihawk had sucked him plenty of times before. He used his tongue to lap at the underside of his length as he hallowed his cheeks.
There was an undeniably soft whimper above him, and it was enough to let Zoro know he was doing all right. His eyes scanned upward to see Mihawk's flushed face. His hands were fisting the sheets, for once not fisted in Zoro's hair.
Zoro grabbed his wrist, bringing Mihawk's hand to his hair, his gaze letting Mihawk know he could. Mihawk panted, fisting his hair in a tight grip, and until then Zoro hadn't realized why he had been letting his hair grow out, but it hit him then that it was because of Mihawk.
His eyes fluttered shut and he set his mind to the task at hand. His hands and tongue melted together on Mihawk's cock, along with his spit. The taste of Mihawk's pre cum was on his lips, and Zoro couldn't deny that he had longed for that salty taste, but more so than his taste, Zoro craved something else. He let go of Mihawk, lips glossy with his pre cum and his saliva.
"Hey, listen," Zoro said, voice more gravely than he would have thought.
Mihawk opened his eyes, lifting his gaze to meet Zoro's, waiting.
"I know we usually, I mean, I'm usually the one that fucks you-"
"What is it?" he asked curtly, cutting him off.
"You want to switch?"
Mihawk grabbed him and flipped him before Zoro could react.
Mihawk's lips were mapping over Zoro's skin, never missing a single expanse of tanned flesh, soft lips trailing over his body, little pants of breath tickling Zoro. His chest heaved under Mihawk, stomach tightening with excitement, cheeks and neck growing hot as Mihawk continued his caresses. Mihawk used his tongue to feverously lick Zoro's sweat off his skin, tickling Zoro with his facial hair as it scraped along his abdominals and chest. He bit down gently on Zoro's nipple, lightly tugging, pinching with his teeth.
His attentions didn't end there, Mihawk ground down his hips, grinding Zoro into the mattress. Zoro threw his head back, gasping from his stimulating touches. Zoro spread his legs under him, wanting more from Mihawk, hoping the other man would understand.
Mihawk read him perfectly, his hand moving down past his erection, fingers pressing behind his balls. Zoro's hands flew to Mihawk's arms, fingers digging into his bicep and his hand moved further down to press at his entrance.
A single digit pressed inside of him, and Zoro dug his fingers harder into Mihawk's arm, both of them knowing he wanted it. Mihawk prodded him a little, fingers stroking inside of him. When one finger became two, and his fingers began to thrust inside, Zoro felt his body curling forward, his teeth gritting down to keep from moaning out.
Then those fingers were gone. Mihawk withdrew, and Zoro watched him as he lathered his cock with lube. When he was done, cool fingers found Zoro's hips, pulling him down closer. Zoro felt Mihawk's hard cock press at his entrance. He closed his eyes when he felt him enter slowly, and for a few seconds Zoro saw only white.
Pleasure coiled in his gut, and Zoro knew that this was what he wanted, Mihawk between his legs. Zoro's hands went to his pectorals, roaming over Mihawk's toned chest. His eyes flickered to Mihawk's, wanting to see his expression. The sight almost made Zoro come right then and there.
His mouth was open, and Zoro could feel his panting breaths on his skin. His eyes were blown wide, ecstasy written on his face. Mihawk gripped his hips harder, in a cruel hold as he dug deeper into Zoro's hot, tight space. Zoro's back arched, lifting off the mattress. Mihawk moved faster, his movements becoming just a fluid blur of thrusts, hitting the bundle of nerves inside Zoro that made him shiver.
There was strength behind every thrust, strength Zoro had longed for. He had missed it, missed being fucked hard, without reserve as someone took him. He gasped under him, his spine felt like it was melting, and if Mihawk continued with that pace Zoro would come soon.
Before Zoro knew it, he came, thick spurts of his own seed landing on his stomach as he moaned out Mihawk's name over and over again as every nerve from his bidy set on fire, all coming from his groin. For a few seconds, Zoro couldn't even see anything besides white. When he adjusted his eyes, he saw Mihawk lying next to him, and he felt the familiar slick feeling of cum in his ass.
Usually Zoro left right after, gathering his clothes and left Mihawk alone without a word, but as he looked over to side, Mihawk looked into his eyes, piercing yellow eyes startling Zoro. The clarity of his eyes, the way Mihawk seemed to have something over him was what made Zoro nervous.
"You can stay if you like."
Zoro knew he would have to leave this man one day. He would have to go back to Luffy and the crew, he had commitments to people he loved. One day he would have to leave the island, leave this man and everything he represented behind. He couldn't afford to fall for him. He couldn't afford to spend the night with him, much less to share his bed with him. He knew himself, and he knew he would start to develop something for the man before he could stop himself if he stayed.
But nights on Kuraigana Island were cold and lonely. Waking up in a large bed, with none of his crewmembers around him did make Zoro lonely. So he figured for tonight he can indulge himself. He settled back down on the mattress, setting close to Mihawk.
For now he can stay, enjoy the moment a little longer.
"You never hang out with me anymore," Perona whined.
Zoro shrugged, continuing to eat his grilled fish.
Perona frowned, stabbing her fish before taking a bite from it. "You're always training outside with old Hawk man, you never pay attention to me anymore."
"That's because you dress me up," Zoro said. "I'm not a fucking doll."
Perona pouted. "I won't do it this time, I promise."
Zoro listened to her complain for about five minutes before tuning her out. He was almost done with his meal, and he looked up, for the first time looking in Mihawk's direction, who was seated at the other end of the table. He was sipping his wine, his eyes lowering to settle on Zoro's face. Zoro held his gaze, locking eyes with him, both staring at each other in sullen silence. Mihawk broke it first, tilting his head to down the rest of his wine. Zoro looked back to Perona, making sure she didn't see what went on between them.
"Come on, let's do something together," Perona kept persisting. If she had noticed something, she made no comment on it.
"We could drink tonight."
Both him and Perona looked up, shocked, staring at Mihawk. "You want to do something with us?" Perona asked.
Zoro had to refrain from telling her Mihawk had no problems doing things with him, he just had a problem with her. Mihawk shrugged from the other end of the table. "Roronoa likes to drink, and you want to do something and I have cabinets full of wine. Why not?"
They both weren't going to deny alcohol, especially if Mihawk was willing to share.
Perona, of course, had been the first to pass out. After Zoro carried her to her room, taking off her boots and setting a blanket over her, he headed to Mihawk's room, feeling a bit tipsy himself. Mihawk hadn't been lying when he said he had a huge collection of wine.
Upon opening the door to his room, Mihawk was on him, slamming him against the wall, licking his collarbone, sliding Zoro's opened button up shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Zoro grinned as Mihawk sucked on his throat, teeth digging into his pulse, hands hungrily wandering over his torso.
Sex with a little something something always felt really good, there was no denying.
With an alcohol induced mind, everything felt even better. Sensations felt more accelerating, their touching was intoxicating. Zoro had learned that early on, enjoying drunken times with Johnny and Yosaku, but he had to learn to limit the alcohol as well, because sex while sloppy drunk wasn't good at all.
When Mihawk ground their hips together, Zoro gasped. Whenever alcohol was involved, Zoro always got a bit more vocal, more needy. His hands moved over every contour of Mihawk's body, feeling hard muscle, power behind his flesh. Mihawk was a little tipsy himself, his breathing harsher than before, hands roaming with less restraint.
They both tangled together on Mihawk's mattress. Zoro moaned in Mihawk's ear as they ground against each other, bodies flush. Each placed sloppy kisses on each other's chest, neck, shoulders and inner thighs. They were gasping and panting, bodies writhing against the other. They came together; bodies twisting from orgasm, gasping, spilling onto each other's hands and stomachs.
Zoro made no move to go back to his room. He stayed with Mihawk, like he had done a few nights before. They weren't much of talkers, and pillow talk sort of made Zoro uncomfortable. When he had been fooling around with Johnny and Yosaku they usually took care of that. Though they had taught him everything he knew about sex, one thing they never told him was etiquette after screwing someone. Since they took care of pillow talk, they never told Zoro if he should stay or go after sex, or when.
One time, Zoro did try talking to Mihawk, whose only response was a sharp glare from yellow eyes. Zoro realized he was comfortable with silence, so that was what they both settled on. Zoro relaxed on the mattress, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. The moon was out, illuminating the darkness of Mihawk's room. Mihawk had rolled to lie on his side, and Zoro felt Mihawk's eyes drifting over his nakedness. Zoro pretended not to notice, continuing to stare at his ceiling, eyes drifting to look at the moon and remembered the times when he had been on the Sunny and how much clearer the nights were then.
After some time, Mihawk rolled away from Zoro, his back facing him. It was Zoro's turn to loll his head to the side, taking in Mihawk's naked backside. The moonlight played on his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine, to the roundness of his buttocks. The light glowed and made Mihawk's skin a frightening pale colour.
Zoro made no move to touch him; instead he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
His head was throbbing. He couldn't see straight, couldn't see period. Blood gushed, hot, burning his face as it ran down his cheek. Zoro was panting, his chest was heaving. He took the bandana off his head and more blood was ran down the side of his face, from where Mihawk had cut down on Zoro's eye. He leaned forward, so he was inches from Mihawk's face.
"My eye," he started, not quite being able to finish.
He gulped down an uncomfortable lump in his throat. Mihawk had marked him again. His chest heaved, and somehow, that little scratch over his eye hurt more than when his chest had been ripped apart. It must have had something to do with head trauma he thought. He couldn't believe it. Mihawk had cut his face. Not just that, but he took away his vision in one eye.
Mihawk's face remained passive, his yellow eyes revealing nothing. There was blood on him as well, and Zoro had managed to land a few blows in, but nothing compared to the blow Mihawk had given him.
Zoro felt dizzy, and for a brief moment he lost his footing. He remembered Perona's scream before everything went black.
Sweat pooled at the base of his spine, and his hair clung to his temple. His shirt clung to his chest. Needy and desperate hands had made it impossible for them to get fully undressed.
He groaned, panting under his breath. He was on his hands and knees, fists clutching the fabric of Mihawk's bed sheets, gripping it tight as Mihawk rocked into him from behind. He buried his face into the pillow, muffling his moans, feeling his thighs tremble from Mihawk's thrusts. It felt so good, having him move inside of him, taking down his self-control bit by bit, leaving him bare and wanting.
Zoro lifted himself on unsteady hands, ducking his head to look at himself, throbbing member leaking, droplets of pre cum falling on sheets. He watched himself, saw Mihawk's thighs behind his own as he stood on his knees, holding him still as he fucked him.
This was how Zoro liked it, and he was happy Mihawk was willing to switch with him. A part of him loved to be fucked, fucked hard until he was raw from it. As much as he loved taking Mihawk, fucking him until he was moaning his name, he loved that he was able to get fucked roughly, with enough force to make his knees weak and leave him gasping for air.
His tummy knotted, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He pushed his ass back, Mihawk's erection sliding in deeper. Mihawk stilled behind him, moaning low in his throat. His voice never failed to go right to Zoro's groin. His only regret was that Mihawk wasn't much of a talker.
"Fuck," he said, voice low and thick in his throat. "Mihawk."
Fuck me harder.
Fingers dug into his flesh, and Mihawk pulled all the way out to slam back inside of him, no hint of gentleness behind his thrust.
Fuck me, you've already fucked me over. Just fuck me harder.
Zoro's moans increased as Mihawk fucked him harder. He bent his neck just in time to watch himself come, thick streams of his semen falling beneath him. He yelled Mihawk's name over and over until his body relaxed. Above his own moans, he heard Mihawk's yells behind him.
Mihawk pulled out and they both dropped to the mattress, falling boneless. Zoro panted, feeling the stickiness run down the back of his thighs. They lay on the bed in silence, only their breathing letting the other know that they were still there.
Zoro turned over on his side to look at Mihawk. He reached out, touching the older man's face, the hard lines around his eyes, from frowning too much. He thumbed his lips, fingers fluttering over his eyes, barely gazing over his eyelashes. He touched his pointed sideburns, studying Mihawk's expression.
Mihawk's sharp yellow eyes didn't soften at his touches, nor did he break eye contact, and if Zoro didn't have balls he would have felt small under his gaze. Zoro felt himself swallowing, watching Mihawk's eyes move to his throat where some bite marks were left. Zoro felt himself getting caught up in Mihawk's eyes. There was something about him that kept Zoro coming back, even if he said to himself he would end it. Everyday he was supposed to end it yesterday. But he was attracted to his strength. His strong will. This was the man he wanted to beat, wanted to master his skills, claim his title. So far, he had only claimed his bed.
Suddenly, Mihawk reached out to him, fingers delicately touching the scar he had left on Zoro's eye. It was so unlike the man, it made Zoro's breath hitch. His touch was more comforting than he would have imagined. Zoro should have recoiled from how uncomfortably close their faces were. The heat from his skin was radiating, warming Zoro.
Zoro's lone eye widened a fraction. He hadn't expected an apology from Mihawk. He didn't think he would ever apologize for taking away his sight from one eye. He had never brought up the scar on his chest either.
"It's fine," Zoro whispered. It's really not. "Happens."
Mihawk never replied. His hand lingered over his scar, gently brushing over his jaw before pulling his hand away. Zoro missed his touch, wanted Mihawk's hands on him once more, and it took everything not to ask for it again, for the warmth he felt whenever Mihawk touched him. Mihawk regarded him, staring at his face, and Zoro worried he had read the emotion Zoro tired so hard to mask. He wondered if something in his eyes had given him away.
If Mihawk saw anything there, he didn't comment. He closed his eyes, leaving Zoro alone in the dark. Mihawk's chest rose, and he breathed through his nose and Zoro knew he was asleep.
Zoro had trouble sleeping that night.
Zoro raised an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do?"
"Cut me. Mark me, like I've marked you."
"Up to you."
That was hours ago. Mihawk had given him the knife he usually kept around his neck, giving it to Zoro, silently telling him to plan it out in his mind before they met in the night. The anticipation had been nerve wrecking for Zoro, and it being his first time ever doing something like this would be…
He held the knife that had cut him in his hand, the knife Mihawk had given him, the same knife that had taken his sight in one eye. It was light in weight, surprisingly so, easy to handle. He looked down at Mihawk, who had his legs spread under him, panting gently through open lips, gazing at Zoro expectedly.
Zoro spread Mihawk's legs even wider, adjusting them so they were on either side of his hips. He took out the knife from its sheath, feeling awkward that it was the shape of a cross. He looked at Mihawk again, searching his eyes for any sign that he changed his mind. There was none.
"Stay still," he whispered.
Mihawk made the slightest hint of a nod, eyes still looking at Zoro.
Zoro leaned down, biting down on his throat, enough to bruise. He pressed the flat of the knife to his neck, cold steel against flushed skin, watching Mihawk start to sweat. His neck isn't where Zoro was planning on cutting him, but Mihawk doesn't know that. As long as he builds up the suspense, he should be fine.
There was a soft hiss coming from Mihawk, and he breathes out, slow and steady, chest rising and falling slowly, the only sign he was being affected by Zoro at all. Zoro dragged the knife down the arch of his neck, sliding it purposefully slow down to his collarbone. Mihawk's panting was becoming erratic, and he knew it was affecting him, even if his brows were furrowed. Zoro pressed the knife to his chest, watching Mihawk's face. He smirked slightly, titling his neck to the side in a way he knew unnerved the man.
"Should I cut you here? Like you did to me?" he asked.
Mihawk swallowed, eyes blown wide as he looked at Zoro, and it's the widest his eyes have ever gone when they were together. Zoro smirks even more. He won't cut him there, he had thought about it long and hard, but in the end, he decided against it. Mihawk was the type to wear open shirts almost as much as Zoro, and he didn't want to leave anything noticeable.
Mihawk squirmed the slightest under him, when Zoro mockingly pressed the knife down, adding pressure, enough to make Mihawk's skin dent and redden around it, but not enough to pierce. Zoro bent his head, licking a long trail from his collarbone up to his neck until he reached his jaw line, collecting cold sweat on the way.
"Should I cut your chest?" Zoro whispered in his ear. "Mark you all the way to your hip? Scaring your perfect skin?"
Mihawk didn't answer. He didn't expect him to. His only response was a hitch in his breath, his head titling back just the slightest. Zoro lifted himself off Mihawk, making a show of twirling the blade between his fingers, allowing a smirk to crawl on his face. Mihawk licked his lips in return. Zoro's eyes flickered to Mihawk's hands, where they were fisting in the sheets. His eyes were drawn back to Mihawk's face.
It surprised Zoro to see the barely concealed lust in his eyes. Mihawk wasn't shivering from fear, wasn't clutching the sheets from regret for letting Zoro hold his knife and telling him to cut him, it was from excitement. If his eyes weren't enough proof, the sight of his erection was definitely proof enough.
What they were doing was dangerous, but Mihawk trusted him. He had to, in order to be the one to give him the knife. It was exciting on many levels, having Mihawk trust him in such a way. Zoro did trust Mihawk, always had, he just never knew Mihawk trusted him in return.
Zoro lowered the blade, sliding it along his chest, making a point to apply more pressure on his abdominals, where they dipped low then rose in swellings of muscle. He stopped at his hipbone, looking sternly at Mihawk, letting him know that his hip was the place he planned on cutting.
There was a weight to what he was doing, to what he was about to do. His mind is filled with wicked things to do to the man lying below him. He pressed the knife harder, not enough to draw blood, but to let Mihawk know that if he continued, there was no going back. Mihawk's breaths were coming in short and hard. Zoro briefly wondered if Mihawk had ever being in a situation like this, without the sexual tension, lying helplessly, about to be cut, and maybe, scarred.
"Cut me," he breathed.
He cut his hipbone, drawing blood and the most delicious of shudders from Mihawk. Zoro took it all in, the bright red spots of blood starting to run a thin line down his hip, the way Mihawk hissed ever so gently, and the way his pupils were blown so fucking huge.
Zoro leaned over him, kissing his neck apologetically, even if they both knew his scar would heal in time. He wanted to kiss his lips, but knew Mihawk wouldn't let him. He sucked on is collarbone instead as he lifted the knife, pressing it to Mihawk's pulse.
"Excited?" he asked.
Mihawk grabbed his wrist, and Zoro let the blade fall on the mattress, not giving a fight. Mihawk glared up at him, a hot flush on his cheeks, mouth barely parted, panting hard.
Zoro immediately ripped off the rest of his clothing, sporting a hard on to match Mihawk's.
"Use your fingers," Mihawk panted.
When he was fully naked he bent over Mihawk, stretching Mihawk like he told him to, scissoring and thrusting, one finger, then two, until it eventually became three, and Mihawk's tight heat is all that's making Zoro groaning in anticipating, a flush forming on both their faces.
Mihawk groaned. "That's enough."
Zoro knew better than to argue with him, doing as he was told. He reached for the nightstand near Mihawk's bed, getting out the small bottle of lubricant. He spread it on his cock; aware that Mihawk's eyes were on him. He would have taken him time, given Mihawk a sight to remember, but he wasted no time. He grabbed Mihawk's hips, aligning himself with his opening.
Mihawk lifted his hips off the mattress, needy and wanting. Zoro pressed into him slowly, diving just to the tip, his head disappearing into Mihawk. He took in the sight, preparing mentally for the sensation of him. He pressed into him slowly, until he was all the way in.
He stilled, just taking in the floods of sensations hitting his body at once. Mihawk seemed to do the same, panting hard, eyes fluttering, something he did whenever he was taking time to adjust. Zoro titled his head, inching his face close, wanting to kiss him. Mihawk moved his head away from him, turning his face to the side before Zoro could kiss him. Zoro got the hint, settling his on Mihawk's collarbone. Zoro slid his hips back, pulling out to the tip, pausing. He shook his head, pulling out.
The older swordsman would have protested if given the chance. Zoro flipped Mihawk so he was on his stomach. Zoro lifted Mihawk up by his hips and grinned a little when Mihawk lifted his ass. Holding him steady, he pressed inside him again, moving slowly, watching himself disappear between two perfect cheeks, tight rings of muscle making way for his cock.
His hands went around his muscular torso, holding him tight as he pressed his chest to his back. Sweat collected between them, and the heat made it uncomfortable, but Zoro held on, fingers stroking Mihawk's nipples, moving over the groves of his abdominals. His hands were slow and calculating compared to the hard way his hips were moving. His hand gripped Mihawk at the base, his fingers stroking and pressing tightly, getting shudders from Mihawk. Zoro felt him dripping on his fingers, and he pressed inside harder, fucking him hard, hitting that spot inside him that made his hips buck up and back.
Zoro's lips found themselves leaving a wet trail on his shoulders to his neck, licking Mihawk's ear, panting hotly. His hand continued to work Mihawk as his other hand went to press at his hip, where it led to his groin. Mihawk added to Zoro's wild rhythm, pushing his ass back to meet Zoro's thrusts. His rhythm increased, his hips moving on their own, wanting more, wanting that friction, wanting to hear Mihawk's voice.
Mihawk groaned lowly in his throat, Zoro's name on his lips. Zoro's head arched back, gritting his teeth, trying hard to delay his orgasm. He fucked Mihawk hard, fucking him hard enough to make slapping noises every time he slammed into him. If Mihawk didn't come soon, he would.
Mihawk did come before him, moaning his name, spilling on Zoro's fingers, thighs trembling. His voice made Zoro lose it. He slammed deep inside of him, stilling and coming in floods, moaning wantonly as waves of pleasure hit him like one of Mihawk's attacks.
He withdrew, lying beside Mihawk. Zoro looked to his side, able to make out Mihawk's face, his open mouth as he drew in deep breaths. Zoro's lids were having trouble staying open, but he needed to look at the man beside him, looking thoroughly pleased, trying to disguise it with a frown.
Zoro studied his face, taking him in. Mihawk's eyes didn't move from looking up at the ceiling. Again, Zoro was overcome with a need to touch him, hold him and kiss him. Mihawk had already left his mark on Zoro. His scars would always carry that weight, Mihawk's mark on him. It was physical, it was visible to everyone else, but there was something inside of Zoro that bothered him. He felt something for the man.
Mihawk had left a mark somewhere inside of Zoro, something less noticeable than a wound, much more profound and deep than a scar or the bite marks on his neck. Zoro was afraid that Mihawk had claimed him in a way Zoro never could.
Johnny had told the story of the older man many times, to the point Yosaku could quote him on it. Every time it was told with the same dry and emotionless tone, with Johnny looking anywhere but at them, his shades pushed up the bridge of his nose so they couldn't see his eyes. One night though, Johnny added something to the story they had both never heard before.
The older man had been married. He even had kids. He had never come out, never acted on his homosexual impulses in his life. But he did with Johnny. He had broken down, told Johnny everything after sucking him one night. It was the reason he never did hold him or touch expect for when he was on his knees, bringing Johnny to climax. His guilt wouldn't allow him to do anything more than get Johnny off.
It was only when Johnny said that the older man ended it that night that his voice cracked. Zoro clearly remembered the look in Johnny's eyes when took off his glasses and asked Zoro if he thought the guy's wife could taste his cum on her husband's lips when they kissed.
Zoro never did answer him.
He had kissed him instead. Yosaku had kissed him as well for lack of anything better to say.
Zoro's body was hot. Even the cool sheen of sweat covering his body did little to cool him. His mouth was open, quietly breathing, trying to control it to keep it even. The cool interior of Mihawk's room finally did cool him, and the muscles in his body relaxed, and he melted in the feel of pillows and thick sheets under him.
He lay in bed, occasionally turning his head to watch Mihawk sleep. He had fallen asleep some time ago. Zoro would be leaving the next day, off to meet up his crew again. He would get to see them after two long years. He would return home.
A memory came to mind, a memory of him listening intently as Johnny told of how he had never gotten a chance to kiss the older guy. Zoro had a feeling he meant more to Johnny than he lead on, more than just saying it was because the older guy was Johnny's first.
Zoro didn't want to leave without kissing Mihawk. He inched closer to him, braving himself for it. Mihawk shifted in his sleep, and Zoro lost his courage. He settled back on his pillows, watching the rise and fall of Mihawk's chest. He wouldn't have been content with kissing Mihawk either way, at least not when Mihawk was unaware.
Even so, he had to fight the urge that was driving him close to insanity. He knew he shouldn't crave his kiss, shouldn't touch his lips when he was alone, wondering what a kiss from Mihawk would have felt like.
Memories of their nights spent together came back to Zoro, flooding his mind. All was a blur of sweaty skin, begs and moans, nails scraping down flesh, leaving marks and teeth sinking into shoulders. Of those times he had closed his eyes and let Mihawk bring him to orgasm.
Mihawk stirred, turning over on his side, his back facing Zoro. Zoro inched closer again, wrapping an arm around Mihawk's waist, nestling into his back, burring his face between his shoulder blades, taking in his smell, his warmth for the last time. He held him close, almost shaking, realizing he wouldn't share these moments with him again. It was hard to leave someone who had left their mark on Zoro like that. Someone as powerful as Mihawk, as strong, willing to submit to him, willing to make them vulnerable and open to someone weaker than him. But of course, Mihawk also was able to make Zoro beg and writhe beneath him, making him hot and whine with want.
Before he fell asleep, he felt Mihawk's fingers tangle with his, holding his hand, pressing his palm to his chest over his heart.
Zoro never did a proper kiss from Mihawk.
Being back with the crew helped him take his mind off of the time he had spent on Kuraigana Island. He never did tell Luffy about Mihawk, at least, he had skipped over the more intimate details of what he had done there. Luffy wouldn't have understood. Just like when Johnny had told him, Zoro didn't understand then.
Moments of sadness would come flooding in, and he couldn't get Mihawk's face out of his head. Zoro never could go to an island and wander into the woods without thinking of his first encounter with Mihawk, the leaves bringing back memories of stolen moments secret touches.
Some nights, when he was on the Sunny, he thought of Johnny's story of his affair with the older man. He remembered the look in his eyes when he told the story, and though Zoro never looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he knew he wore the same expression when he woke after vivid dreams. Maybe if he saw Johnny again he could tell him he knew exactly how he felt instead of kissing him silent.