Companion Fic
Oct. 21st, 2010 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moe81Title: Needy Relief
Rating: PG
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
A/N: Companion fic to Photographic Evidence
It had been several days since they’d had any real contact. The last time had been their meeting after Zoro’s attempt to get hopelessly lost.
Sanji stared blankly into the depths of his flour sack. The cool air of the pantry was a small relief from the heat of the galley and allowed his thoughts to separate into some semblance of coherency.
Why was he so caught up in having an actual conversation with the marimo anyway? He had his doubts that the man had gained any intelligence. He pointedly ignored the little spout of philosophical bullshit from their first encounter, putting it down to Mihawk’s influence and wouldn’t it be nice when that had been rubbed off.
He glared at the powdered wheat.
The atmosphere thickened as Zoro entered the small room and Sanji’s back tensed imperceptibly. The swordsman filled the space a hell of a lot more than he used to. Or maybe that was the air of maturity he was giving off and Sanji suddenly had a burning need to rewind two years.
He had a slight moment of panic that his shelves wouldn’t hold up to their combined weight and he mentally slapped himself for being an idiot. He’d rid himself of any hopes when he’d noticed the change in Shuusui’s sheath. There was no point pining for something that wasn’t going to return.
Fingers brushed over his ear and he sucked in a breath. He clenched the hessian bag in his hands, knuckles turning white. A palm caressed his chin, fingers tugging at his goatee and tips resting over the racing pulse in his neck.
He hoped. He hoped and he prayed and his heart raced a million beats per minute, and then stopped dead as he was turned. A gold eye looked into his and the hesitance he saw had him almost sob in relief.
He released the bag and a broad hand tugged at his sleeve and drew him back into the dining area. Zoro sat on the side bench and, with hands on his hips, pulled Sanji between his legs. The expression the swordsman was giving him was incomprehensible; sadness, relief, hurt, joy and even a small amount of anger but they all seemed insignificant to the need he was sure was being reflected in his own eyes.
He cupped the tanned face in his hands and slanted his mouth over Zoro’s. His tongue touched parted lips and Zoro surged to life under him; nipping, sucking, pulling him closer. Hands grasped at his jacket, pulling it off of his shoulders.
His thumb ran over the scar covering the lost eye and Zoro pulled back to stare at him. Their heaving breaths mingled together and Sanji slid his hands through green hair. Zoro dropped his head to Sanji’s chest, just breathing, and the blond closed his eyes.
Two years apart and they still fit together.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
A/N: Companion fic to Photographic Evidence
It had been several days since they’d had any real contact. The last time had been their meeting after Zoro’s attempt to get hopelessly lost.
Sanji stared blankly into the depths of his flour sack. The cool air of the pantry was a small relief from the heat of the galley and allowed his thoughts to separate into some semblance of coherency.
Why was he so caught up in having an actual conversation with the marimo anyway? He had his doubts that the man had gained any intelligence. He pointedly ignored the little spout of philosophical bullshit from their first encounter, putting it down to Mihawk’s influence and wouldn’t it be nice when that had been rubbed off.
He glared at the powdered wheat.
The atmosphere thickened as Zoro entered the small room and Sanji’s back tensed imperceptibly. The swordsman filled the space a hell of a lot more than he used to. Or maybe that was the air of maturity he was giving off and Sanji suddenly had a burning need to rewind two years.
He had a slight moment of panic that his shelves wouldn’t hold up to their combined weight and he mentally slapped himself for being an idiot. He’d rid himself of any hopes when he’d noticed the change in Shuusui’s sheath. There was no point pining for something that wasn’t going to return.
Fingers brushed over his ear and he sucked in a breath. He clenched the hessian bag in his hands, knuckles turning white. A palm caressed his chin, fingers tugging at his goatee and tips resting over the racing pulse in his neck.
He hoped. He hoped and he prayed and his heart raced a million beats per minute, and then stopped dead as he was turned. A gold eye looked into his and the hesitance he saw had him almost sob in relief.
He released the bag and a broad hand tugged at his sleeve and drew him back into the dining area. Zoro sat on the side bench and, with hands on his hips, pulled Sanji between his legs. The expression the swordsman was giving him was incomprehensible; sadness, relief, hurt, joy and even a small amount of anger but they all seemed insignificant to the need he was sure was being reflected in his own eyes.
He cupped the tanned face in his hands and slanted his mouth over Zoro’s. His tongue touched parted lips and Zoro surged to life under him; nipping, sucking, pulling him closer. Hands grasped at his jacket, pulling it off of his shoulders.
His thumb ran over the scar covering the lost eye and Zoro pulled back to stare at him. Their heaving breaths mingled together and Sanji slid his hands through green hair. Zoro dropped his head to Sanji’s chest, just breathing, and the blond closed his eyes.
Two years apart and they still fit together.
