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Entry tags:

sanji,
zoro roronoa

[Closed || 003]

Who: Sanji (

yourotherleft)
When: 4/12.
Where: Their apartment.
What: Oh, you know. Event things.
Rating/Warning: Well. There might be some erotica books involved, but fuck knows how that will go... (Spoilers: ridiculous. Ridiculous is how it will go.)

[Welp, Sanji felt that pull to go to the shitty library out of nowhere, same as everyone else! But since he had some free time on his hands, it's not like it even occurred to him to question it. Besides, a huge place like that with all those books was sure to have something interesting regarding the culinary side of this planet. Maybe he'd be able to find a good cookbook or two and get to know more about the local recipes here?

Such were the completely pure and innocent thoughts that bounced around Sanji's head as he wandered through the aisles, eyes casually scanning the shelves as he waited for something to jump out at him. How he COMPLETELY ACCIDENTALLY ended up walking down an ~Adult~ row is a total mystery. And he definitely didn't mean to reach for that book with the busty blonde on the cover, or the one with the voluptuous redhead giving the reader a sultry look.

And he has no idea how he ended up walking back to the apartment with an armful of such books. But they're not all explicitly naughty, at least! There's a couple that are just fluffy romance, with dashing young men on the covers, windswept and shirtless as the heroine of the story clings to them.

Hell, Sanji actually did manage to find some books about cooking, too.

He drops his load onto the coffee table once he's back home, shrugging out of his suit coat and snickering to himself as a beautiful brunette stares up at him with a smoldering gaze, hands running over the sword in her grasp in a positively suggestive manner.

That one...he did not pick up for himself.]

Oi, marimo! Got something for ya.

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I'm not doing anything! [he says while his palms rake against Sanji's pecs, pressing his shirt against his skin.] I just.

[he may not be able to pull away, but he can certainly register his discomfort and impending worry on his face; the blush deepens to a dark crimson across his cheeks and all the way up to the tips of his earlobes, and he grits his teeth angrily. All the while his hands keep roaming, back down to Sanji's waist and then hips.]

I swear to god I'm not doing this on purpose. I don't know what it is, I can't...stop it...

[Those raking palms draw a startled, strangled sound from Sanji's throat, which makes his own face go brilliantly red. And that's a shame, because it means he can't point out Zoro's blush and try to defuse the situation will some good ol' poking at his crewmate's misfortune.

Nngh.

The hand he still has buried in Zoro's hair drops to grab at the material of his shirt, his other lifting to do the same, and he hauls Zoro right up against his chest as soon as Zoro's hands are out of the way and on Sanji's hips instead.

Which is a whole other ASLASLKJDHLAKS!!! situation.

Regardless, he clenches his teeth against more shitty sounds that are trying to escape him and practically growls at Zoro.]

Well fucking try harder!

[He punctuates the order by shoving Zoro back towards the couch with monumental effort. And for a second he thinks he's free, relief already slamming into him -- except then he finds himself following Zoro's momentum, pushing him down onto the seat and clambering on top, his knees bracketing Zoro's thighs and digging into the cushions.

........Shit.]

Shit!!!

[And now his tone is rapidly become something bordering on hysterical because this is NOT OKAY.]

[Zoro sucks in a breath sharply at the full-body contact, any deeper thoughts squashed down and hidden beneath the surface reaction of what the fucking fuck do you think you're doing, but fortunately it's over quickly and there's a moment in which they're finally, thankfully, free of each other. He doesn't even care that he's staggering back toward the couch, they're finally apart...

But it's cold, for some reason. Like the act of touching itself held all the warmth in the world beyond mere body heat.

No sooner does this perplexing fact register in his mind and then that's over as well, the heat returns in an all new and even more bizarre twist. It's very clear he's not being attacked, and even though Zoro alternates between strangled snarls and complete sweat-dropping, his hands yet again fail to obey him. Shove him off he tells himself, put your damn hand on his shoulder and SHOVE, but that hand misses and curls around Sanji's waist instead, drawing him in.]

What the hell are you doing?! This isn't...!

[His body is doing all kinds of things it's not allowed to do. Grabbing, pulling the cook in, the heat burning down through his chest into his gut. Zoro manages to keep his focus on the surface, almost willing himself not to think about enjoying it, mainly because it's still weird and unsettling to have it happen so involuntarily.]

...how the fuck am I supposed to try harder with you sitting on me?!

[Sanji's eyes go wide with alarm as he's pulled in, as if being in this kind of position wasn't bad enough already. He catches himself with his hands against Zoro's shoulders, but one slides off as the distance between them becomes miniscule and braces against the back of the couch instead.]

You're the asshole with his goddamn arm around me holding me here!!

[Snarls that back at him, voice completely wonky and about ten octaves too high now. But holy shit, this is ten million kinds of awkward and he can't make it stop, he doesn't know what to do, and -- and what if Luffy sees them?! OR ANYONE ELSE.

His face is far too close to Zoro's but like fuck he's letting himself be drawn in even more. He pours every ounce of willpower he possesses into holding himself as still as possible, and gives the other man a red-faced, mulish glare.]

This is fucking stupid, we just need to...

[He shifts his weight slightly then and unfortunately is abruptly reminded of just where he's sitting. The thought plows into him like a kick to the head and throws his train of thought completely off the rails. The color in his cheeks deepens even further and he swallows, sliding his eyes away to stare somewhere in the vicinity of Zoro's ear because meeting his gaze is somehow too embarrassing.]

...I just need to think. There's gotta be a fucking reason for this bullshit.

I said I wasn't doing it on purpose!!

[snarls it at him in the same way, trying to keep his voice low even though no one's around to hear. Thankfully. But Luffy could appear in the doorway at any moment, he's that unpredictable...

For a moment Zoro is fascinated by the depth of the blush on the cook's face, he's never seen him to that degree no matter how many women are around them, but he can only file it away to tease him about it later because this is now the most awkward situation ever and he doesn't blame Sanji for not wanting to meet his eye. He doesn't want to, either, and solves it by just closing it, forcing himself to take deep breaths to try to calm himself. Don't think about the hand on your shoulder, Zoro, don't think about the ass deposited in your lap, just breathe.]

If I'm not doing it and you're not doing it, who's making us do this?

[the protesting and the blushing at least assures him Sanji's in the same mindset - not doing this on purpose. He has to take the cook at his word on this, but then, he probably wouldn't sit on Zoro no matter how much he wanted to prank him. There were limits. This isn't a prank, it's something crazy happening to the both of them.

The real problem, which Zoro doesn't even realize, is that something is awakening in him, something he had maybe tangentially thought about a while ago but pushed down to the depths of his soul where forgotten things lay hidden like sunken treasure in the ocean deeps. Most days his mind remained on the surface, he reacted out of gut instinct and followed his routine and his base needs without plunging much deeper. Down there below the surface, he had once idly entertained thoughts eerily similar to the very position he was now in, but it was a long time ago and a lot of bullshit - both his and the cook's - had interfered in the meantime and those ideas had floated down into the depths, out of sight and out of mind. Yet not too deep; he would be aghast at his own brain if he knew that some of his instincts were still rooted in those old thoughts.

For now, Zoro follows suit and holds still, hoping that if he's not looking at Sanji and not thinking about where his hands are or gauging the comfortable weight on his lap, he won't make it any worse. Even if he can't remove his hands from Sanji's hips, he can at least get them to stop caressing and stay put, that's a start.]

[Barks out a humorless laugh, his fingers digging into Zoro's shoulder, because suddenly the answer seems pretty obvious. Wouldn't be the first time some really bizarre shit has happened around here, would it?]

Give you three guesses. If it ain't us, then...

[Knowing who or what is behind this doesn't make it any better, though. In fact, it just makes it worse because when this place fucks with them it seems to go on for awhile.

Sanji grimaces, and since staring at Zoro's ear is leaving him with a really uncomfortable urge to fiddle with his earrings for some goddamn reason, he glances back at Zoro to find he's closed his eye now. Not just him then, huh?]

Anything else...weird happen to you today? Maybe we can figure out what started this mess.

[And then find a way to end it? Somehow??

Sanji remembers to loosen his grip on Zoro's shoulder after a beat, though his hand seems to think that means it's time to curl behind him to where he can play with the short hairs on the back of Zoro's neck. Compared to the whole thing where he's straddling the other man, the action seems tame enough that he barely notices he's doing it.]

[It takes him a few minutes to mull it over, but then Zoro remembers hair on fire and groans quietly.]

Fuck this place. It better not be the ones that took us...

[At least Sanji's musing gets him thinking about something else besides the weight on his thighs and the body heat just inches away from his chest, he can actually start plying his mental powers toward a solution. For a moment. Then there's fingertips on the back of his neck, making him suck in a breath sharply, his eye snapping open.]

Watch it, cook! Ugh. No, I didn't do anything weird. I worked out, I took a shower, and then you showed up with your damn library books.

[Wait...]

It can't be the books...

[Freezes -- or tries to. He's not very successful. Seems his hand wants to keep doing its own thing!

Sanji huffs, grumbling out a mumbled:]

Sorry.

[Since that's about all he can do. The other option is just flat out pretending it's not happening, so he's gonna go with that one, too. Sorry, marimo.

Then the rest of Zoro's words catch up to him and he blinks.]

There's no way it's the shitty books.

[Because that would make this partially Sanji's fault, and ugh. Ugh. Though it does make him pause, brow furrowing as he thinks back.]

...Actually, hell if I even know why I went to the shitty library in the first place. Don't think I was planning to do that today. [Another pause, and then:] Fuck.

[He'll still growl about the intrusion, but the apology actually speaks volumes. If they can't control their hands, he can't hold the cook responsible. Yet, the more he gets touched, the more it makes his own hands reciprocate. The longer those fingertips linger on the nape of his neck, the more his own hands slide fully into the small of Sanji's back until he's rubbing along his spine.

Ugh, why can't he stop...]

You just ended up. At the library. And brought books home.

[in pure contrast to the way his caress lingers, Zoro scowls darkly.]

Only one way to know for sure. You gotta get rid of 'em.

Well, once I was there it didn't seem like a bad idea!

[DEFENSIVE.

Also, god, that's terrible, you asshole. Terrible because it's actually not terrible, and Sanji has to bite his bottom lip for a moment as he draws in a breath and arches under Zoro's touch. Fuuuuuck, this is the actual worst. He needs a smoke. Or at least five bottles of wine if this is just going to keep...happening.

Not that he wants to think about that. That way lies all sorts of problematic things...subconscious ideas and dangerous urges that he'd really prefer would stay buried forever.

He wrestles his thoughts back to the present, making an attempt to somehow just not feel what Zoro's hands are doing to him. Which is really damn hard.]

Maybe it's not that, maybe...maybe we actually gotta finish reading 'em!

[Hopeful, if somewhat sheepish, look! Hey, man, some of those he was actually enjoying.

But then he frowns.]

...Except for the damn pirate one. We can burn that one.

[Excuse you cook he actually liked the pirate one.

The way Sanji squirms makes Zoro try all over again to stop touching him, but he only manages to keep his hands still. They're resting in that same spot but at least they're not moving. It takes so much concentrated effort to do so, they just have to figure out how to move away and maybe he can lock himself in his room until it wears off.]

No way, I ain't touching those. You wanna read 'em, be my guest, but you've already gotten me involved in this and I didn't even read a word!

[Which, now that he thinks about it, is pretty damn weird on top of the regular weird, and his frown reflects it.]

[Huffs again, shifting a little as his hands slide across Zoro's shoulders and down his arms to brace against his biceps, thumbs absently massaging circles into those thick muscles.]

Well how the hell do you suggest we get rid of 'em, then? Ain't like we can really get up and toss the damn things out the window. Or even grab one to read it.

[Pointed glare down at one of his hands like he's just noticed what the fuck it's doing. Though he has to fight a little to keep it an actual glare and not allow it to turn into something that might actually look intrigued.

Sanji knows all about Zoro's muscles, okay. He's fought the man countless times, he's seen him train, watched the shift of movement beneath his skin whenever he lifted one of his massive weights, but he's never felt them for himself like this. There's a whole fuckton of power hidden in these arms and it's somehow fascinating all of a sudden to be able to feel it right beneath his fingertips.]

I, uh. [Come on, asshole, focus. He gives his head a small shake.] Maybe I can reach 'em.

[If he can just get ONE of his fucking hands off Zoro already, jesus christ.]

[Shit he never thought the press of fingers into his arms like that would speak to his own urges so much. Zoro is doing his damnedest to focus, though, to try to ignore it, though the blush on his cheekbones betrays his own failure to will himself to be stronger than this.]

We can! [he insists!!! with a lot of gnashing of teeth] It's just...we can just get off each other and stand up and throw them out! I'm not gonna just sit here and let a damn book control me!

[his hands come around and rest on Sanji's thighs, very clearly poised to shove him off, but they don't. Instead, they clench on those powerful muscles, squeezing, and he catches himself doing it and ugh why is he so weak? Never mind that he has handfuls of the cook's deadly weapons now and everything he once wondered, what seems like years ago now, turns out to be every bit as true as he imagined.

Okay, no, this has to stop, he has to get out of this. But Sanji's weight on him prevents him from doing more than leaning forward until his forehead presses against Sanji's chest, something like a feeble head-butt in a desperate attempt to shove him off. There's a sad plea in it, a silent wish to be able to get himself under his own control again. Zoro wants to make the choice himself, not be pushed into it by a stupid book.]

[Chokes on nothing as Zoro's hands land on his thighs, because that is just dangerously close to other shit that Zoro has no business being anywhere near. Holy fuck. Sanji's eyes go wide, a twinge of panic curling in his chest as Zoro's head thumps against it.]

You can say shit like that all you want but it ain't doing any fuckin' good!

[He lifts a hand from Zoro's arm and knows immediately that it's going to bury itself in Zoro's hair again, for what he doesn't know, and he's pretty sure he doesn't want to think about what his body might try to coax Zoro into doing. Instead, with every ounce of willpower he possesses he manages to catch himself before his hand lands and instead throws his arm above his own head, bending backwards as he does so that his torso arches in a way that is probably provocative enough to satisfy whatever the fuck the book is urging them to do. It's a weird position, but it allows him to reach the coffee table in any case...even if it does mean Zoro's hovering somewhere over his stomach now.

Sanji grits his teeth and tries to ignore how his hips roll into Zoro's touch.]

Look, if you're gonna be groping around down there, you wanna try to get my lighter outta my pocket?

[Because he's got two of the books in his grasp now and if burning the damn things might actually end this shit, then so be it.

Failing that, he can still read like this, at least. If it turns out they DO have to finish one of the scenes.]

[Zoro makes that same strangled noise in his throat, partly from the sight of a ridiculously-flexible cook stretching away from him like that, though mostly from the mere suggestion. His face heats obviously, there's no missing it now.]

NO! I am not touching you anywhere near your damn pockets!

[he's already in a bad place, kneading Sanji's thighs and holding him in place so he doesn't flop onto the floor. Why, though? Doesn't he want the cook to flop on the floor? Shit, how is he managing to stay balanced like that? It's making him think all kinds of things he didn't think himself capable of thinking until Sanji read that book about bending people over barrels and....

...oh god his face is actually on fire, isn't it? It has to be, blood can't burn in him like that...

All his vaunted self-control is being torn to shreds by this, Zoro has no idea what to do besides squeeze his good eye shut again and take deep breaths. They're not calming breaths by any stretch of the imagination, but it's air. He needs air right now. Focus on the act of breathing and not the heat and the weight still in his lap...]

[Sanji lets out a low laugh under his breath, but it's tainted with bitterness more than anything. He's certainly not finding the situation funny.]

Hate to break it to ya, dumbass, but you're pretty near my damn pockets already.

[It's impossible not to feel Zoro's hands working into his muscles, and worse, it's getting harder by the second not to react. Sanji desperately wishes Zoro would just let him flop onto the floor, but even if the man's hands weren't anchoring him, Sanji's got enough strength in his core to keep his balance and hold himself in place. His abdominal muscles might be straining a bit, but it's nothing he can't handle.

He's able to arch his other arm backwards as well after a moment and with that hand bracing against the coffee table, he can really stretch and reach the rest of the books. His shirt is starting to tug loose from his pants, though, a tiny sliver of his stomach beginning to peek through as the material rides up with all Sanji's stretching.]

[NO HANDS NO DON'T TOUCH THE ABS!

...he's touching the abs.

It's just a poke, a single fingertip grazing the peek of skin just above his belt, but it happens. At last, the contact of skin on skin breaks the hold on Zoro's mind just long enough for him to recoil and pull both hands back, splaying them back against the couch cushions instead. His legs beneath Sanji's go taut and tense, but at least he doesn't buck the cook right off him then and there. Zoro presses his shoulders back against the couch as if trying to melt right into it, putting as much space between his torso and graceful cook-body as he can manage.]

Get off me! Now's your chance, get off!

[That single, simple touch is like a shock to the system. Sanji feels it, too, the sudden ability to scramble backwards if need be, but it's so startling that he more just falters for a moment, his hand slipping off the table as he sucks his stomach in. Zoro yells at him at the same time his elbow crashes into the tabletop, the rest of him flailing inelegantly backwards until he land in an undignified heap on the floor, books all but forgotten in his haste to just move away.

He can't scoot back any further, already pressed up against the edge of the coffee table, but he manages to pull his arms back around with a wince, rubbing at his elbow as he glares blearily up at Zoro from...well, basically from between his legs. But at least Sanji fell onto his ass and isn't awkwardly on his knees or something because that's—

Well.

That's just a mental image he definitely did not want, what the fuck, brain?

Sanji lurches back even more, shoving the coffee table right along with him until there's a distance between them that might qualify as safe. And only then does he let out a relieved breath, before following it up with a petulant mutter:]

Ow.

[...It's not like he knows what else to say right now, okay.]

[For a moment Zoro stares at him, and then just to make things extra-extra safe, he scrambles up from the couch and crosses to the far side of the room, putting more space between them. His face and neck are still burning, he tries scrubbing his hands through his hair and down his neck to try to cool himself down but it's not that effective.

Well, at least they're not touching. That's progress.]

If it's the books, get rid of the books. [a low and heavy growl] If it's something else, we gotta. We have to stay away from each other.

[it's less about the latent sensations he doesn't want to admit to and more about the fact that it's out of his control. If he were to do something, it has to be his choice, his deliberate action. Not some weird colony bullshit.]

[Sanji clambers to his feet after Zoro moves, his own face flushed as well as he goes about straightening his clothes, tugging the rest of his shirt out of his trousers and pulling it down like it helps somehow just to have that extra layer of protection over his probably-too-tight pants. Nngh.

He flicks a glance in Zoro's direction as he speaks, then gives the books now scattered across the coffee table and floor a glowering look before nodding.]

Yeah. Yeah, I'll...take 'em back.

[He clears his throat and pushes a hand through his hair, trying to look back at Zoro again and ultimately failing. Which he sort of hates himself for, because yeah this whole shitty thing is embarrassing but fuck if he's going to let it beat him like this.

...Maybe he can give himself a couple hours, though. To stew and hate everything and be grumpy and mortified about it all.

And then he can promptly shove the entire experience into the deep, dark recesses of his mind where he never has to think about it ever again.

Yeah, that sounds good.

Sanji draws in a deep breath, somewhat shaky, and forces himself to speak again.]

Then I'll probably run by the studio. Might be out awhile.

Yeah...fine. Fine, that'll be fine.

[trying to talk himself into believing it. Zoro is, at least, the king of forcing himself to forget things he really doesn't want to remember, if it comes to that. Don't worry, cook, it's easier for him not to look, either, standing with his blind side toward the living room as he rubs his neck.]

If Luffy gets back before you do, I'll tell him...I dunno, you got called in or something. Shit... [something occurs to him, then] ...this better not rub off, I don't wanna be touching Luffy like that.

[the mental images. EUGH. Zoro shivers and tries to brush them off like spiders on his arms.]

[Promptly makes a face at that, because eugh indeed.]

Maybe you should make yourself scarce, too. Go to the shitty gym or something.

[Sanji bends down to start collecting his various erotica novels, leaving whatever cookbooks he picked up. Presumably those won't make him lose his goddamn mind. He turns one over to read the summary on the back as he straightens up again, and in an attempt to get things somewhat back to normal shoots a smirk in Zoro's direction and waggles the book a bit.]

Sure you don't want to keep one of these? Little light reading before bed maybe?

[whirls back toward him with a snarl]

NO! Get that shit out of my sight!

[though a second later he's glancing toward the spine of the book to see if it's the pirate one. Might want to remember that title]

I always knew you were the worst goddamn pervert, I don't need you to prove it in front of me. I could go the rest of my life never reading anything like that again.

[even if he already did get his daily workout in - and a shower! - that suggestion isn't a bad one. Where did his swords end up?]

Maybe I'll go down to the dojo and see if any of the sword-spirits want to knock heads.

[but what if the weird affliction is still inside him and he ends up groping Kashuu...? NO NO NO]

...on second thought, maybe I'll just go for a long jog.

[Ahh yes, okay, getting that kind of reaction from Zoro actually does help, and Sanji snickers for a moment before the whole pervert name-calling thing quickly has him scowling again.]

Oi, there ain't nothing wrong with reading it! Not like I knew it was gonna do all... [He gestures randomly, cheeks going pink again.] That.

[HARRUMPHS.

...But he really doesn't have much of a leg to stand on here, so he should probably just stop talking. He turns away with a huff, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he heads for the door.]

Don't make it too long, you'll never find your way back. I'll bring something home for dinner.

[He can cook at the studio. The more time he can get to himself, away, the better.

And thus Sanji sweeps out the door without taking another look at Zoro.]

[Zoro manages to stay irritated until after the door closes, at which point he slumps against the wall, covering his face with his hands.

There is a lot that just happened and he's not going to forget it. Not when that long-disused yet present part of him has finally awakened, buried ideas have resurfaced, and he doesn't know the difference between what this place was making him do and what his subconscious actually wanted to do. If it was the books...were they only controlling his hands, or his feelings as well? Are his desires truly his?

There's no way to know until he can be sure that he can keep his hands to himself of his own free will, that he has full control of himself again, and then, only then, can he think about what he wants. Whether to leave it be, or dig up one of those buried ideas and see if he can make anything of it. If, in the cold light of day, he can look at the cook and still feel that need, then...maybe.

Maybe someday.]

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