[ it's a mere sampling of taste, his taste with what sanji had provided him, but all zoro can feel on his tongue is the sweet heat of sanji's skin, lingering in his mouth even when he allows it to draw itself away. a memory of smoke rests there, remnants of whatever last cigarette sanji had plucked away, along with a hint of flicked metal, collected over the countless times that the man has rolled the wheel of his lighter to conjure a flame, and the combination works as its own fuel to set zoro's body on fire from within, the need burning hotter than any dream that had previously and temporarily settled his desires.
how easy it is wanting to claim sanji's mouth, to find out if it's more ash or sweetness, if the blond would withhold his tongue for gradual teases or invade with the muscle to satisfy a deeper hunger. he wants, but zoro does nothing except lay the foundation of a path, the invitation in the slick layer dragged across his tongue, like a whispered call.
and yet, the kiss never comes, the motion denied as if to set zoro back in his proper place, to remember the reasons this moment even exists tonight in the first place.
not that he's left with much room for disappointment, because that mouth seems prepared to serve a different purpose, the one that originally set this all in motion. zoro doesn't necessarily feel shy about having his dick out when sanji pulls his pants down to let it free, but even he's not immune to the faint flustered tint on his cheeks at the sensation of hot breath exhaling over an already swollen crown. good thing it's just dark enough in this room to veil it away. ]
I told you. I won't beg if I don't have a reason.
[ not like he'll need to since sanji soon takes it into his mouth so willingly, zoro's own breath slowing just to take in every detail of sensation that comes from the slow movement of lips across the shaft. zoro's had enough mouths on him and put his own on enough cocks to recognize the slow uncertainty from sanji's initial intake; if he'd already been confident about sanji never having been with a man based on the direction of most of their conversations, the confirmation is in the live witnessing of what's no doubt sanji's first offered blowjob.
not that it makes the whole thing any less desirable; sanji's voluntary determination is arousing all on its own, and when that hot mouth takes him in a second time, zoro forces a hard swallow just to fight the moan that wants to make its way out. if things had panned out differently tonight, the attractive blond stranger from the bar could be deep throating him right now, confidently allowing him to fuck hard and eagerly into a expertly trained mouth, and zoro still wouldn't take that over the slow tease of sanji learning learning his way around his cock.
his fingers grip tighter around the neck of the bottle still in his hand, his mind for once far and away from caring to drink the beer inside of it. take your time, he thinks, words unspoken to the kneeling cook, too unequipped for things like assurances or encouraging phrases. that's not his department, as much as nami has continuously tried to push him into learning.
what he can do is ease his free hand to slide back into wavy blond locks, curling around to gently hold the base of sanji's neck. he doesn't grip, doesn't push, doesn't guide, doesn't do anything to direct sanji where to go or force his speed, but he does let his thumb stroke across his nape, a kneading touch that draws a nearly lazy circle, as a slight groan finally gives way with the slick wrap of heated lips taking more of him in. ]
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how easy it is wanting to claim sanji's mouth, to find out if it's more ash or sweetness, if the blond would withhold his tongue for gradual teases or invade with the muscle to satisfy a deeper hunger. he wants, but zoro does nothing except lay the foundation of a path, the invitation in the slick layer dragged across his tongue, like a whispered call.
and yet, the kiss never comes, the motion denied as if to set zoro back in his proper place, to remember the reasons this moment even exists tonight in the first place.
not that he's left with much room for disappointment, because that mouth seems prepared to serve a different purpose, the one that originally set this all in motion. zoro doesn't necessarily feel shy about having his dick out when sanji pulls his pants down to let it free, but even he's not immune to the faint flustered tint on his cheeks at the sensation of hot breath exhaling over an already swollen crown. good thing it's just dark enough in this room to veil it away. ]
I told you. I won't beg if I don't have a reason.
[ not like he'll need to since sanji soon takes it into his mouth so willingly, zoro's own breath slowing just to take in every detail of sensation that comes from the slow movement of lips across the shaft. zoro's had enough mouths on him and put his own on enough cocks to recognize the slow uncertainty from sanji's initial intake; if he'd already been confident about sanji never having been with a man based on the direction of most of their conversations, the confirmation is in the live witnessing of what's no doubt sanji's first offered blowjob.
not that it makes the whole thing any less desirable; sanji's voluntary determination is arousing all on its own, and when that hot mouth takes him in a second time, zoro forces a hard swallow just to fight the moan that wants to make its way out. if things had panned out differently tonight, the attractive blond stranger from the bar could be deep throating him right now, confidently allowing him to fuck hard and eagerly into a expertly trained mouth, and zoro still wouldn't take that over the slow tease of sanji learning learning his way around his cock.
his fingers grip tighter around the neck of the bottle still in his hand, his mind for once far and away from caring to drink the beer inside of it. take your time, he thinks, words unspoken to the kneeling cook, too unequipped for things like assurances or encouraging phrases. that's not his department, as much as nami has continuously tried to push him into learning.
what he can do is ease his free hand to slide back into wavy blond locks, curling around to gently hold the base of sanji's neck. he doesn't grip, doesn't push, doesn't guide, doesn't do anything to direct sanji where to go or force his speed, but he does let his thumb stroke across his nape, a kneading touch that draws a nearly lazy circle, as a slight groan finally gives way with the slick wrap of heated lips taking more of him in. ]