"What exactly are you doing?" Zoro couldn't help but ask, his eyelids lowering slightly in speculation.

A small twitch ran past the cook's eyebrow and he paused from where he crouched over the swordsman. His thumb still continued to lightly brush against the calloused patch of scar circling around Zoro's ankle. His other hand was lightly against the Marimo's abdomen, feeling its warmth, his intense gaze that had once been on probably the biggest scar in the collection glaring up to meet a single dark eye.

"Shut up shit head. Leave me alone." He muttered under his breath, moving back to look at Zoro's frame.

His hand around his ankle retreated, joining the other at his chest and he hesitantly pitter pattered his fingers against it, vivid memories of a time long before, during first impressions, when he'd seen this bad boy fresh. A spare thought that visited him more than he'd like to admit along their voyage. But he couldn't help remembering it and the agony that Zoro had faced that day.

Without even thinking about it he had leaned forward, pressing his lips scarcely across the healed wound. There was a small purr near the back of his throat and he softly closed his eyes as soft flesh met rugged. It seemed foolish, or so Sanji would agree on any other occasion, but here so close to Zoro, basking in his body heat, he couldn't help but be thankful.

To him, Zoro's scars were beautiful, because they gave Sanji all he needed. They represented life, that of which had been saved by the healing of these wounds, that which allowed Zoro to be here and with him now. But they also reminded him that this man before him, that he adored and admired, they reminded him that he was human just as he. Zoro had his weaknesses and wounds, but also passions and his reasons to fight for them. What more could he ever want to wake up and see... the body of such power yet vulnerability.

The Marimo could only watch in silent interest. He knew the blonde was somewhat of whack, had to be if he was trying to get intimate with his scars. Really, they weren't much, just patches, unless of course he was purposely trying to harass him by pointing them out and silently suggesting they were ugly. Then he was just a prick. But the way he gently caressed and kissed at them, it seemed far from the truth.

"It is my body you know, I can't exactly leave it alone." He rolled his eye, letting his head fall and rest back on his arm over the top of the pillow.

His eye trailed over to the window and the rising sun. They wouldn't have much time left together, just the two of them, before the others began to wake and would want to continue on. He let out a soft groan. They were wasting time if he wanted a round two.

"What are you doing anyway?"

Sanji tried to resist the urge to knee the asshole.

"Paying my respects."
"Oi." Zoro looked back to him, knitting his eyebrows together. "I ain't dead. Respects to what?"
Sanji only chuckled, having moved closer while Zoro wasn't paying attention and taking advantage of his blind side. He kissed the scar over his eye once, trailing it down slightly before just rushing to the main course and taking his lips.

"I'm trying to be thankful, dammit." He attempted to explain, though honestly he supposed it sounded better in his head.

Zoro still stared at him in sympathy. He really had gone off the deep end, hadn't he?

"Thankful to what? My scars...? You and your fucking fetishes..."
Sanji scowled, retreating from him. So much for trying to be a little more than intimate, to understand Zoro's body more than just what meets the eye and their special rendezvous's.

"You fucking wish that was one of my fetishes shit face." he hissed, apparently he had been hit somewhere vulnerable.

Zoro's face softened though and he internally bitched at himself. He followed the cook as the other moved, watching as he turned to put his legs off to the side of the bed. But before the blonde could reach out to his carton and lighter, reaching around his back, Zoro slithered his hand down Sanji's arm, guiding it back and willing it to bend towards him.

His forgotten hand appeared around the other side of Sanji's slender frame, holding him close as he brought Sanji's hand forward. Then, closing his eyes without saying a word, knowing full well the confused and angry expression that was just loading up a bitch fit was watching, he brushed his lips against the cooks fingers, where it took some squinting, but even nicks of cuts could be found there.

It made Sanji flush, but only barely, as he pulled it away, glowering at the Marimo.

"What was that?"

Zoro shrugged. "I was being thankful, too."

Author's Note: Thank you MyladyDay! Also Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, it's this week. If you don't celebrate it that's okay too but I went ahead and wrote an appreciation drabble anyway~ OuO~ Enjoy!33