moe81 | Here be fic

Title: From sparring to… hell yessss

Rating: PG…with perverted thoughts for fun

A/N: For Sybile from Sparring pic.

Heavy breath, sweat slicked skin, the sound of hard leather on steel.

The tension on his swords increased as Sanji pushed closer. Zoro smirked and his hand flashed as he pulled Kitetsu away and up, sunlight glinting off the edge as it passed the cooks fringe. Sanji flipped back, his own smirk drawing his mouth up and his eyebrow shot to his hairline as Zoro drew Wadou. Teeth clenched over white hilt, and his head tipped just slightly to the right, inviting, almost demanding a response.

A toe tapped on the deck and Sanji moved, almost imperceptible to a normal person but Zoro saw the foot coming at his head. Right kick. Shuusui blocked in a flash of pink and Zoro felt the need to roll his eyes. Show off. Bare movement and Sanji moved to kick out with his left. Kitetsu drew up to block and there was a foot on his chest. Bastard had changed his attack at the last moment.

Zoro flashed his eyes to Sanji’s, trying to read his next move. Blue bore into green and the foot slid up to his shoulder. Zoro shivered as leather dragged over covered flesh. He could feel heat flowing from lean muscle right by his ear, tensed thigh pulled flush against his chest and damn if the cook didn’t use the leverage to lean closer.

He watched in fascination as eye flashed from his to Wadou, back to his again. He didn’t move as blond head drew towards him and his breath sure as hell didn’t stop as pink tongue touched the white hilt. He stared as said tongue traced the wrap down and he swore he could feel slick movement over his bottom lip.

His arms snapped into movement, one hand curling over raised leg and the other fisting at lean back, grabbing as much jacket as he could manage with his sword in hand. He yanked the cook closer, hoping to throw him off balance. All he got was one leg sliding through his and pushing against his groin. His hips spasmed slightly as he rubbed himself against the cook, urging him to push closer.

Sanji licked at the hilt again and Zoro grinned at him, lust flashing in his eyes. His gaze told the cook that if they currently didn’t have the crew as an audience, he’d be finishing this right now and to hell if they were in the open.

He let go of the body in his arms, expecting Sanji to either fall on his ass or right himself with a back flip. Apparently the bastard just wanted to hang on to him. The leg over his shoulder tensed and he had a spilt second – fall down with the idiot or back up and right them both. They had an audience. Zoro let them fall.

Swords clattered off to the side and legs tangled, drawing hips together and Zoro suppressed a moan. He felt Sanji’s breath hitch and watched his throat move as he swallowed nothing. Zoro leered and ground his hips down, which would have ended really well if the cook hadn’t taken that moment to remember their surroundings.

The kick to his head was still worth it to see a flustered blond idiot, who really had no control over himself when the two of them sparred.