[ zoro gives him a chance for an out. either they step into this and scratch the itch with the full strength of their claws or they leave it to fester and ache. what he doesn't admit is that this gives him an escape for himself, too; if sanji doesn't come, then there's nothing left to chase, no desire to linger, and he can go on seeing the blond as just that obnoxious crewmate who keeps him fed every day (a lie, he knows, because this pestering emotion won't just wisp away like the smoke sanji blows out of his lips, it'll linger in his lungs like the smoke he breathes in; sanji has his cigarettes to be addicted to inhaling, but zoro has sanji).
as he waits, he just sits at the edge of his bed, wishing he hadn't said anything at all to him tonight. it's not often that he does regrets, but this might be a first. the ship is too quiet and he wishes luffy was here, or even usopp or nami, anyone that could make noise to get this out of his hand, to ease away the aching erection tucked away beneath fabric, and move on from tonight.
fuck it. he's not coming. zoro stands on his feet, ready to step out and march his way up to the deck to let the breeze of the ocean calm him down —
and then sanji steps in, coaxing him to a stop, raising his eyes up to him and studying him from head to toe like it might tell him the answers he isn't sure he cares to know.
he takes the offered beer, but there isn't a single chance he gets to drink it.
when sanji wraps his fingers around his cock, he fights the groan lurching in his throat, where it escapes as a hiss between teeth instead. those fingers are hot, stronger than zoro might have given him credit for before all of this, but still plenty skilled in their attention, that detail less surprising. mouths so close as they are, zoro sacrifices speech to instead let sanji's breath fan over his lips, like it's somehow the closest they'll ever be, as if the other man's hand isn't squeezing around his cock right now.
with the press of a wet thumb to his mouth, zoro's eyes look to sanji's with a darkness that could somehow bear a cunning smile, only his lips never move to show it, instead parting to take that thumb between them as if to accept it for a feasting.
he can taste his own heat, briefly catching the salty dampness lapped up with a flick of his tongue, but it's a temporary flavor compared to what he really seeks out. never leaving sanji's stare, he tightens his lips to suck over skin, dragging them slowly across the thumb, sampling and taunting, pressing up his spit-coated tongue just to suck the slick clean again as he pulls himself off.
he licks over his lips, purposely giving them a wet shine as he hovers his mouth closer. ] Now you.
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as he waits, he just sits at the edge of his bed, wishing he hadn't said anything at all to him tonight. it's not often that he does regrets, but this might be a first. the ship is too quiet and he wishes luffy was here, or even usopp or nami, anyone that could make noise to get this out of his hand, to ease away the aching erection tucked away beneath fabric, and move on from tonight.
fuck it. he's not coming. zoro stands on his feet, ready to step out and march his way up to the deck to let the breeze of the ocean calm him down —
and then sanji steps in, coaxing him to a stop, raising his eyes up to him and studying him from head to toe like it might tell him the answers he isn't sure he cares to know.
he takes the offered beer, but there isn't a single chance he gets to drink it.
when sanji wraps his fingers around his cock, he fights the groan lurching in his throat, where it escapes as a hiss between teeth instead. those fingers are hot, stronger than zoro might have given him credit for before all of this, but still plenty skilled in their attention, that detail less surprising. mouths so close as they are, zoro sacrifices speech to instead let sanji's breath fan over his lips, like it's somehow the closest they'll ever be, as if the other man's hand isn't squeezing around his cock right now.
with the press of a wet thumb to his mouth, zoro's eyes look to sanji's with a darkness that could somehow bear a cunning smile, only his lips never move to show it, instead parting to take that thumb between them as if to accept it for a feasting.
he can taste his own heat, briefly catching the salty dampness lapped up with a flick of his tongue, but it's a temporary flavor compared to what he really seeks out. never leaving sanji's stare, he tightens his lips to suck over skin, dragging them slowly across the thumb, sampling and taunting, pressing up his spit-coated tongue just to suck the slick clean again as he pulls himself off.
he licks over his lips, purposely giving them a wet shine as he hovers his mouth closer. ] Now you.