[ it takes what feels like hours to catch his breath. every time he thinks something stranger can't happen, it does, now with this tenuous bubble of airy lightness that's trapped them both. the floor is hard against his back, and he doesn't mind it. zoro's breath fans out against his thigh, his cheek pillowed there. sanji's lashes are wet, his bottom lip trembling like it did when he was a child. he has a feeling zoro would let him stay right here until morning. he has a feeling that if he leaves now, he'll never come back.
his body still hums with languid pleasure. this might be the best orgasm he's ever had in his life, and he can't believe it came from zoro of all people. through his parted fingers, he peeks downward at the sight of the swordsman tangled up in his legs, his lips a gentle whisper against his skin. he doesn't know what he's supposed to do next or how he's supposed to act now that he has this intimate knowledge of zoro's body gnawing at his brain. whatever comes next, he knows it's going to hurt.
he swallows back the thickness clogging his throat, dragging his wrist over his eyes, his tears smearing into all the other wetness across his face. everything in his life has always hurt; why should this be any different? his fingers curl around zoro's ear, gold slipping between them, coaxing him up towards him. sanji's heart starts again with its hammering at the sight of him, his slick, bruised lips, the barely noticeable flush across his perfectly tanned skin, the sharp cut of his high cheekbone that sanji rests his thumb against now.
he hopes the invitation is still open. more than that, he hopes he can actually do this.
he draws zoro down, his breath stuttering, his damp lashes sweeping shut, and tilts his own mouth upwards. he's unprepared for the shock when their mouths press together, his foundation losing stability, the tremor returning to his lips. his dark brows knit together, his hand fisting in zoro's shirt as if he'll break apart without something solid to hold onto. ]
the emotional rollercoaster has ended me
his body still hums with languid pleasure. this might be the best orgasm he's ever had in his life, and he can't believe it came from zoro of all people. through his parted fingers, he peeks downward at the sight of the swordsman tangled up in his legs, his lips a gentle whisper against his skin. he doesn't know what he's supposed to do next or how he's supposed to act now that he has this intimate knowledge of zoro's body gnawing at his brain. whatever comes next, he knows it's going to hurt.
he swallows back the thickness clogging his throat, dragging his wrist over his eyes, his tears smearing into all the other wetness across his face. everything in his life has always hurt; why should this be any different? his fingers curl around zoro's ear, gold slipping between them, coaxing him up towards him. sanji's heart starts again with its hammering at the sight of him, his slick, bruised lips, the barely noticeable flush across his perfectly tanned skin, the sharp cut of his high cheekbone that sanji rests his thumb against now.
he hopes the invitation is still open. more than that, he hopes he can actually do this.
he draws zoro down, his breath stuttering, his damp lashes sweeping shut, and tilts his own mouth upwards. he's unprepared for the shock when their mouths press together, his foundation losing stability, the tremor returning to his lips. his dark brows knit together, his hand fisting in zoro's shirt as if he'll break apart without something solid to hold onto. ]