[ zoro would stay just like this, getting caught up in filling out the answers to some previously inexplicable questions that had badgered him night after night, like the reason for his own lasting glances in the cook's direction amongst a crowd or why frustration made its habit of bubbling up a lot more quickly when flirtatious anecdotes would slip from the blond's mouth to whatever fairly attractive woman stepped into the room. it's still incredibly stupid, in his opinion, and he could still conjure up a thousand more insults to label sanji, but at the very least, the hunger of this kiss comes with some acknowledgement that he'd kill to keep tasting this mouth.
predictably, sanji seems to come with his own reservations, and when zoro's rolled on his side and nudged away moments later, he can't say that he feels too surprised about the abrupt ending of whatever mishap they'd fallen into tonight.
but even as sanji withdraws himself from their warm entanglement, redressing himself, zoro doesn't do much to move, his eyes carefully observing each of sanji's movements, as if every shift of a limb, every subtle expression, could all come together to spell out what might be going on in the cook's head. figuring people out never typically comes from conversation for zoro, since half of the time, they don't say what they mean (he knows a thing or two about that) and words can prove a lot more complicated than not. action is where it all makes sense, just like every step and reflex of a fight speaks more to zoro's language more than any extended vocal explanation could.
the problem is in how sanji tends to change by the second, moods moving from cheerful to annoyed, from contemplative to anxious, from tangled embraces to withdrawn smoking. the man tends to be a counter to all of zoro's usual methods in understanding the world, which only complicates why the hell he's constantly so drawn to him in the first place.
still keeping his eyes locked on him, he watches the smoke wisp out of swollen lips, knowing he'll never be able to look at them again without thinking of them tucked tightly around his cock, painted with his come, and hungrily chasing after his mouth.
finally tucking up his pants back up over his hips, still resting on his side, he finally speaks up, ]
If you don't want to, then don't.
[ he doesn't ask him to stay; he doesn't really think it's in his place to, not when so much of the question lies in what sanji wants. even amidst all the bickering fights, all the taunting namecalling and snappy retorts, zoro thinks he's made it fairly clear what his position is regarding wanting sanji. for him, it doesn't need to be complicated or spelled out in ways that don't matter. sanji either stays, or he doesn't. the rest can be figured out later. ]
😮💨
predictably, sanji seems to come with his own reservations, and when zoro's rolled on his side and nudged away moments later, he can't say that he feels too surprised about the abrupt ending of whatever mishap they'd fallen into tonight.
but even as sanji withdraws himself from their warm entanglement, redressing himself, zoro doesn't do much to move, his eyes carefully observing each of sanji's movements, as if every shift of a limb, every subtle expression, could all come together to spell out what might be going on in the cook's head. figuring people out never typically comes from conversation for zoro, since half of the time, they don't say what they mean (he knows a thing or two about that) and words can prove a lot more complicated than not. action is where it all makes sense, just like every step and reflex of a fight speaks more to zoro's language more than any extended vocal explanation could.
the problem is in how sanji tends to change by the second, moods moving from cheerful to annoyed, from contemplative to anxious, from tangled embraces to withdrawn smoking. the man tends to be a counter to all of zoro's usual methods in understanding the world, which only complicates why the hell he's constantly so drawn to him in the first place.
still keeping his eyes locked on him, he watches the smoke wisp out of swollen lips, knowing he'll never be able to look at them again without thinking of them tucked tightly around his cock, painted with his come, and hungrily chasing after his mouth.
finally tucking up his pants back up over his hips, still resting on his side, he finally speaks up, ]
If you don't want to, then don't.
[ he doesn't ask him to stay; he doesn't really think it's in his place to, not when so much of the question lies in what sanji wants. even amidst all the bickering fights, all the taunting namecalling and snappy retorts, zoro thinks he's made it fairly clear what his position is regarding wanting sanji. for him, it doesn't need to be complicated or spelled out in ways that don't matter. sanji either stays, or he doesn't. the rest can be figured out later. ]