Chapter Text
“Did he just unlock the d–” Zoro hears Luffy say right before the door swings open and almost knocks him off his feet. He grips the edge of the sink harder as he turns to see Sanji standing in the opening, inconsiderate bastard that he is, and his Captain right behind him. Even the excitable younger man looks surprised at Sanji’s eagerness. There’s a heavy silence as both men observe him, or rather his state: standing shakily in front of the small mirror, completely naked except for his crumpled, wet pants still stuck inside his only booted foot, covered in sweat—and other fluids, especially between his legs—and red faced. He gets the urge to hide himself, but it’s like his body won’t respond to his brain now that the two men are here, next to him, close enough to reach. Sanji looks a mix of shocked and hungry, and his pants are open; meanwhile Luffy is smiling amusingly and didn’t even bother putting his half-chub back into his sagging shorts.
“This place is fucking filthy, Moss. What the fuck did you do in here?” the Cook is first to break the heavy silence, looking around the room with disgust—although it looks… exaggerated, almost feigned. There’s heat in his only visible eye when it lands back on Zoro.
Its effect is more powerful than Zoro would like, his cunt throbbing harder than ever; he keens, practically bending in half over the sink as if in pain—it might as well be, at this point. While his eye is shut tightly and he focuses on taking deep breaths, he hears his Captain and the Cook step fully inside the small room and close the door behind them. Suddenly, a hand is touching his back and Zoro jumps in surprise at how deliciously hot it feels; he opens his eyes and looks in the mirror, seeing Luffy standing behind him.
“Is Zoro gonna be okay?” the younger man asks, looking slightly worried. As innocuous as it is, childish and nasal, almost squeaky at times, his voice sends shivers down Zoro’s spine, and his vision blurs.
“Please, Loof,” he begs. He’s not sure what for, but anything will help at this point, he just needs to be touched, he needs–
“I think Sanji really wants Zoro,” his captain’s voice interrupts his train of thoughts. He glares at the man in the mirror, more as a reflex than anything, and catches him red-faced, staring somewhere down Zoro’s body. Despite the remnants of his consciousness resisting the idea, the part of him that currently craves to be filled is more than on board, unfortunately. He’s about to agree when the Cook exclaims:
“As if I’d ever want to fuck his filthy ass! Look at him, standing in his own p– piss. He’s f– fucking covered in it, too,” he spits, pointing accusingly in Zoro’s direction. He would probably sound more convincing in his outrage if he wasn’t stuttering, clearly flustered, or if his hard and twitching cock wasn’t tenting his boxers, plainly visible in the gap of his unbuckled pants. Zoro’s gaze zones in on it like a bird of prey, can’t take his hazy eye off it. Sanji ends up noticing and hides the offending object, as if suddenly realizing how affected he truly is. The exchange makes Luffy giggle in amusement.
“You guys are silly. Zoro says he needs help and Sanji wants it, so you guys should do it.”
“You just want to watch, you pervert!” Sanji retorts, but the way he’s holding his nose betrays just how much he likes Luffy’s idea. Zoro chuckles, feeling delirious.
“You can talk, Ero-Cook,” he manages to snap back, and Sanji practically explodes in angry embarrassment, to the point Luffy has to stop him from pouncing at his first mate. It would be funny if Zoro wasn’t literally hurting for cock and, he realizes, kind of unable to defend himself right now.
“I’ll fucking show you, bastard!” Sanji yells, and Luffy grins widely.
“Then do it already!” he exclaims, pushing the Cook in Zoro’s direction until he has crossed the small distance separating him from the swordsman. Zoro tenses, but not from fear; he remembers the low baritone of Sanji egging him on earlier, encouraging him to come while he touched himself on the other side of the door, and his previous fantasies about being stuffed full of his cock seem a lot more real, all of a sudden. Despite his feeble attempts to resist, the closer Sanji gets, the closer he wants it.
Their warm gazes meet in the small mirror over the sink once more, and Zoro could almost swear Sanji’s eyes look a little crazed, too. But he doesn’t have time to ponder the question much longer, not when his thighs keep spasming in an attempt to offer some stimulation to his overexcited private parts. He clenches the sink harder in defiance and looks down the drain, spreading his legs further.
“Fucking do it already, Shitty-Brows,” he calls weakly, feeling the fog taking over. Soon, he won’t be much more than the shell of himself once more, seeking release unthinkingly.
“You sure?” he hears the blond asshole ask behind him. His concern would have more weight if he didn’t already have a hand on Zoro’s left hip, while ruffling sounds indicate he is pulling his hard cock out of his loose boxers. Zoro whines more than he agrees, nodding quickly and bending over further as his strength slowly leaves him.
“Fuck, okay, fuck,” he hears the Cook swear, and feels the warm, blunt tip of his erection sliding down his slit to the underside of his throbbing cock, spreading the overflowing slick coming out of his cunt and pulling a loud moan out of his mouth. If his own fingers felt good in this altered state, an actual cock was something else entirely. He hides his face in the crook of his elbow, hoping to quell the embarrassing sounds building in his throat as Sanji does it again and again, breathing a little harder behind him.
“Come on, stop teasing him, Sanji! Can’t you see Zoro is dying to take it?” Luffy finally comments from the side, encouraging the Cook as if he had somewhat read Zoro’s mind. Sanji obeys immediately, as if he needed somebody to give him permission: he sinks into Zoro’s swollen flesh agonizingly slowly—whether for Zoro’s or his own sake is unclear, until the man bottoms out and both his hands encircle Zoro’s hips tightly while the swordsman feels him bending over his back with a mumbled curse. The corners of Zoro’s mind who are not busy going insane over the feeling of the Cook’s dick filling him notice, idly, that the blond smoker has never seem so affected when fucking Zoro, during the handful of times it happened before.
Trying to figure out what has changed this time is pointless, though, because soon enough, Sanji starts moving his hips back and forth. Zoro whines helplessly, legs already shaking as if on the verge of an orgasm despite being far from it—the sensations coursing through him are just overwhelmingly more intense than anything he has ever felt before. He practically collapses into the sink, his arms unable to support him further when the Cook increases the pace of his thrusting. He’s not careful or precise with them, pounding his cunt with wild abandon instead while ragged breaths and choked moans spill out of his mouth quietly from time to time—but it works.
“Wow, Sanji was really desperate! Does it feel good?” Luffy asks after a couple of minutes, and both men groan in approval, unable to form any words. Zoro feels boiling and damp all over, sweat doubling down around his entire body as he struggles to stand on his legs and withstand the Cook’s excited assaults. It becomes increasingly harder as he feels himself get closer and closer to his release—except something is missing, the Cook’s thrusts are too clumsy and the angle is off, he needs–
As if in a trance, one of his hands reach down to his swollen, neglected cock and starts stroking it in rhythm, whining deliriously as his walls start spasming around Sanji’s cock—it’s a respectable size, plugging Zoro’s hole all the right ways and massaging his walls much better than Zoro’s fingers ever could. Suddenly, he feels his cunt spasm and wetness starts gushing out of it once more; it sprays out the floor underneath the sink, covers his already wet hand, dribbles warmly along his legs…
“What the–?” the Cook exclaims, out of breath. “Are you fucking pissing yourself again, you disgusting whore?” Apparently, Zoro is also wetting the Shitty-Brows’ fancy dress pants, he realizes with a mix of satisfied smugness and embarrassed mortification. Worse yet, the Cook’s insult goes straight to his cock and he strokes himself harder, moaning and squirting again and again as the blond man’s thrusts grow even more frantic.
He feels like he’s been orgasming for an eternity when he finally reaches his peak—so high and so intense he nearly passes out from it. He’s been moaning and gasping into his elbow so much that it is slick with saliva, but he can’t bring himself to care when his whole body shakes violently as if electrified; Sanji continues ramming his dick inside his cunt through it all—until he bottoms out and groans loudly, his forehead resting in between Zoro’s shoulders as he feels the cock inside him swell and spasm, filling him with warm fluid.
“That was fast,” Luffy’s amused voice comes through the fog as Zoro desperately tries catching his breath. “But really hot,” the Captain adds. Zoro might have passed out for a minute, because it feels like he’s waking up from a dream. He had almost forgotten his Captain was here while in his pleasure bubble.
Weakly, he opens his eye and raises his head, turning it to where the voice came from. Zoro realizes with no small amount of relief that he does feel a bit better this time; the lusty fog in his mind has somewhat lifted, and his legs have stopped shaking. Luffy is watching him hungrily, throbbing cock in hand—he has probably been touching himself the whole time he watched the Cook fuck him. As if on cue, Zoro feels him pull out his sore hole and winces in discomfort, which makes Luffy giggle, because he is a bit of an ass like that.
“Does Zoro feel better?” he asks nonetheless, because he is also nice like that.
“Ye–” Zoro tries to answer, immediately beginning to cough from how dry his throat is. The movement forces the Cook’s cum out of his cunt a little, and he feels it run along his sensitive folds. It’s not a bad feeling, he thinks as he turns back to the sink and washes his hands quickly before shoving a few mouthfuls of water down his throat and splashing his face.
Finally, he feels okay enough to stand without having to grip the sink and turns around to look at his friends. Sanji is slumped forward with his back against the opposite wall, still breathing surprisingly hard considering even Zoro feels mostly alright right now. Next to him, Luffy is still pawing at his dick lazily.
“Is Curly okay?” Zoro wonders out loud for his Captain’s benefit. Luffy shrugs and shakes the blond’s shoulder:
“Hey, Sanji, you okay?” he asks way too loudly for such a cramped space. Zoro’s vague headache throbs in his temples, briefly. The Cook flinches and straightens up, as if catching himself.
“‘M’fine, stop fucking yelling, idiot,” he mumbles as he pulls a cigarette out of his jacket’s inside pocket. He lights it and starts smoking shakily, avoiding their gazes. Zoro smirks smugly.
“Was the pussy that good, Ero-Cook?” he teases, happy to notice his clear mindedness is lasting longer than it previously did. But then, Sanji finally looks at him, and his gaze is dark with lust, and Zoro feels its heaviness pin him to the ground. The Cook grins around his cigarette a little wickedly, and exhales its smoke. Zoro’s groin stirs again, cruelly letting him know his struggles are not over, and he groans dejectedly. He watches as both Luffy and Sanji’s eyes move to look down at his cock, peeking from under his green bush as if asking for more attention.
“Was the dick that good, Marimo?” Sanji teases right back in between two puffs of smoke. Zoro glares at him and starts taking a step further–
“Whatever!” Luffy suddenly exclaims, apparently tired of them fighting when there’s much more fun activities to do together. “My turn!” he says, moving to stand in front of Zoro.
The man wants to say he’s not some kind of fucktoy they get to take turns on, but as soon as the thought blooms in his mind he feels himself throb violently, and his face grows burning hot dizzyingly fast. Luffy laughs, mocking him without real animosity, and lunges at him to wrap both arms around his neck possessively. Zoro catches him easily and hugs Luffy’s frame as he plants a big wet kiss on his lips, a bit off-center; Zoro chuckles against his mouth, melting a little from the sweet attention. Luffy was always so unbashful with his affection, and the contrast with their current situation was kind of funny. He kisses back nonetheless, finding it satisfying in a different way sex was, but just as important, somehow.
Soon, the kiss deepens as Luffy’s tongue slips between Zoro’s lips ravenously, and his hands cradle his face, his head, pull his hair and then travel back down, around his neck and then his shoulders. It’s hot and intense, making goosebumps grow along the trail of Luffy’s touch, and Zoro is kind of paralyzed for a couple of minutes, unsure what to do other than hold on to his body tightly. But then Luffy presses himself to him, and he feels the shape of his erection against his upper-thigh; he groans in between their mouths and grabs his small ass, guiding him so that their dicks can rub together. Luffy moans openly and grinds back harder, exploring Zoro’s mouth like he’s trying to eat him alive.
“Want Zoro,” Luffy breaks their kiss to whisper into his ear after a little while, slobbering all over it while he’s at it. Zoro keens needily, nodding desperately and already spreading his legs, trying to spear his weeping cunt onto Luffy’s hard cock while still standing face to face. He almost succeeds, but then Luffy is moving away from him. Zoro nearly wants to cry.
“Come here,” Luffy says urgently, taking Zoro’s hand and leading him barely a step to the side, where the—now fairly disgusting—toilet stands. Luffy sits his naked ass on it carelessly with his legs spread, his shorts long abandoned somewhere on the filthy ground. He still has his flip-flops on, though, Zoro notices feverishly. It looks so dumb, he thinks. If he can’t get fucked by this ridiculous mess of a man right this instant, he might die, he also thinks almost simultaneously. Luffy seems to be able to read his mind, because he pulls on the hand he’s still holding and says:
“Come on Zo, sit on it.”
So Zoro does. Almost falls on it, actually, tripping on the pants still attached to his right leg in his hurry to obey his Captain. But the surprisingly strong man catches him easily—by the tits!—and then, he deftly slides a knee between Zoro’s, pushing his legs apart to force the bigger man to straddle him. Zoro complies easily, lowering himself down in a daze until his cunt is hovering right above Luffy’s cock, standing thick, veiny and proud on a mat of coarse black hair. Zoro’s eyes are transfixed to it, so eager to feel it inside him soon; Luffy guides it up a little with one hand while the other is still holding Zoro from under one thigh, and he drags his red tip from Zoro’s entrance to his hard cock. They gasp in unison, then, both from the sensation the contact provokes and from the downright obscene vision of Sanji’s pearly white, chunky cum gathering over Luffy’s cock, scooped right out of Zoro’s throbbing hole.
“Fuuuuh–” Luffy breathes out, his hand holding Zoro by the thigh squeezing his flesh in appreciation. When Zoro looks up at his face, he sees him biting his lip, eyes glued to where they are barely touching. Unable to pace himself further, he sinks down in one go, sheathing himself on Luffy with a long moan. The Captain gasps, moving both hands to Zoro’s waist and gripping it, he looks up in surprise; Zoro uses the opportunity to steal his lips in a tonguey kiss as he starts grinding his swollen clit against Luffy’s belly, getting used to his girth spreading his sensitive flesh. He feels and hears his wetness mixed with the Cook’s cum squelch between their bodies, probably spreading in Luffy’s sweaty pubes, and the thought makes him slightly insane.
After a minute like this, Luffy seems to be done with Zoro’s teasing, and he starts thrusting up while moving his arms to hold Zoro up from under his thighs once again. Contrary to Sanji who was pretty eager from the start, Luffy goes slow but deep at first, forcing Zoro to hold onto the back of the toilet for support as precisely angled thrusts push him forward, making his toes curl. He whines and gasps, unable to stop the embarrassing sounds bubbling out of his throat, but Luffy loves it; “Yes, let it out,” he says almost distractingly, “Does that feel good?” he asks without expecting an answer, his mouth nipping at Zoro’s developed chest. Zoro yelps when teeth close around his left nipple: they are not usually sensitive, so this is definitely new.
Slowly, Luffy increases his pace, never showing any sign of tiring despite the fact he is now holding most of Zoro’s weight up. All throughout it, he continues cooing seductively to his first mate, telling him how good and beautiful he is, and what pretty sounds he makes, and how soft and warm his pussy feels, and Zoro is gone to the world. Arms strewn messily over Luffy’s shoulders onto the water tank behind him, he lets his head loll against his left bicep as he takes the delicious pounding, not more coherent than when Sanji was the one wrecking him.
He’s only pulled out of his daze when Luffy slows down slightly, before he feels pressure poking under his asshole all of a sudden; he struggles to understand what’s happening until he realizes Luffy and the Cook are talking—he had forgotten Swirly-Brows, just like he had forgotten his Captain earlier, when his focus was on whoever was ramming his hole.
“You can’t just go in without asking,” he hears his Captain reprimand Sanji, sounding surprisingly serious.
“Come one, look at him, Captain. He’s begging to get stuffed with anything he can find,” the blond’s voice answers in a raspy drawl—he doesn’t sound like himself, but Zoro can’t pinpoint how, too busy realizing what the two men are discussing as if he wasn’t with them in the room. He raises his head painfully and the room swims a little; it’s boiling hot and stuffy, filled with the remnants of cigarette smoke no one bothered opening the small window over the toilet to let out. It takes Zoro’s all of his strength to form a sentence in his mind, and even more to get it out:
“The fuck you’re trying to do, Ero-Cook?” he pushes out, trying and failing to look over his shoulder. Luffy helpfully stops moving, although he doesn’t sound pleased he has to.
“Sanji wants to fuck you at the same time as me, but he didn’t want to ask first!” he exclaims, and Zoro feels himself swell with love for his Captain who is looking out for him. He also feels himself swell with the desperate need for Sanji to shove his cock next to Luffy’s and both of them to fuck him until her forgets his own name, but that bit is a lot less easy to admit. He gulps, unable to answer. Thankfully, Luffy helps him once again: he cradles his cheek softly and gently forces Zoro to look him in the eyes. It takes a second to focus on his Captain’s shape swimming in front of his face, but when he manages, he sees Luffy is grinning at him amusingly.
“Wow, Zoro looks really fucked up,” he notes with a giggle. “What do you want? Can Sanji put it in?” he asks next, soft and sultry. If Zoro hadn’t already been about to agree, he would have answered ‘yes’ anyways just because Luffy asked the way he did. He doesn’t even pretend to think about it before he shakes his head in a jerky, hurried nod; Luffy kisses him silly for his troubles.
“Knew this animal would want it,” the Cook drawls from behind him, immediately starting to push forward against Zoro’s already stretched out hole. His hand which is not busy guiding his cockhead in the limited space next to Luffy’s dick grabs onto his hip and squeezes almost hard enough to bruise. Delirious with pleasure-pain, Zoro whines desperately and pushes his hips back against contact.
Finally, he feels the blunt tip breach him, stretching his hole uncomfortably yet deliciously. It takes a bit of readjusting to get the angle right, and Zoro lets himself be manhandled between the two men until Sanji's cold, open zipper is pressed under his thighs, and the soft fabric of his boxers he didn't bother lowering more than enough to free his cock is caressing his skin, and the Cook's entire length is shoved as far as it can go inside him. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming and literally takes his breath away, leaving him gasping in Luffy's hair, desperately clinging to his Captain.
"Shh, Zoro is okay," the man speaks softly in his ear; he's been slowly pumping in and out of Zoro's dripping cunt the whole time the Pervert Cook was pushing his dick in, unwilling to take a break from his own pleasure for anyone. The green-haired man can only choke on a moan as an answer, because filled full like he is, the smallest movement is enough to push his buttons just right to bring him closer to yet another orgasm—one he's not entirely sure he'll survive.
"Fucking–" Sanji grunts behind him, his thrusts slowly building in amplitude and speed, "his hole's tight for a slut. So fucking wet though," he adds a little breathlessly. Luffy makes an amused noise.
"Zoro won't be happy about all the things you said when he's normal again," he giggles, sounding like he's barely making any efforts despite the fact he's quite literally pounding Zoro into a near death experience. Sanji scoffs.
"If he can even walk," he retorts with a mean thrust that Zoro could swear he feels in his lungs. His battered walls spasm in rhythm; he feels so close to his release despite the lack of direct stimulation to his dick, it’s like pressure building deep within—but it’s impossible to predict when it will explode, the constant pounding keeping him somewhat on the edge.
This goes on for a while, not that Zoro can accurately tell how long in his stunned state. At some point, he becomes aware of his own desperate wimpers, coming weakly from between his lips as he rests heavily over Luffy. His feet are still on the ground, but he hasn't been using his legs for a while now; they even feel kind of numb. Next, he realizes how heavily Sanji is pushing against his hips, trying to arch his back further than it will physically go. He's pumping inside him eagerly and breathing hard—close, Zoro realizes with great satisfaction. Finally, Luffy's voice raises to his ears, almost breathless:
"Ah, Sanji, s'good like that, I feel Sanji's cock real well," he babbles, voice stuttering slightly from the jolting his own hard rhythm creates. The image it conjures up in Zoro's mind is downright obscene—their two cocks squished together, rubbing wetly in his tight cunt, bringing both him and themselves closer to their release simultaneously.
Unsurprisingly, Zoro is the first to fall over the edge; it seizes him like cardiac arrest, so strong it's almost painful, especially when his muscles spasm around the two foreign objects inside him. Their owners are not giving him a second to catch his breath, clearly appreciating the new sensations his climax offers, if their grunts are anything to go by.
Contrary to previous times, the high is intense but short-lived. The thing about orgasming, Zoro quickly realizes, is that it tends to make him think much clearer and enjoy being manhandled a lot less—especially when he's coming for the sixth time in quick succession. He tries to express his discontent by shifting his hips, but Swirly-Brows' grasp won't relent, holding him in place with a growl:
"Don't you fucking move until I've filled you up, stupid Moss," he grits through his teeth.
"Then fucking come already, Pervert!" Zoro bites back immediately, annoyed. To his surprise, Sanji actually does, choking on a retort he doesn't have time to spit out. His thrusts stutter hard, and then still completely as he nearly collapses on Zoro's back, just like earlier. Luffy laughs, still chasing his own climax—his stamina is truly monstrous.
"Don't pull out yet, Sanji, please, I'm close!" he exclaims, throwing his head back against the water tank of the toilet with a worrying 'clunk'. Unbothered, he continues pumping his hips dizzyingly fast, to the point Zoro starts to feel overstimulated. He is about to let his Captain know as much when a loud moan rips out of his open throat, unbridled and beautiful. Zoro's mind is clear enough to really look at him and notice details he missed earlier, like the way his entire upper body is flexed from holding Zoro up above him and bouncing him on his cock, how pretty pink his cheeks look, how the sweat has stuck his bangs to his forehead…
He doesn't falter once in his movements while he comes, fucking his warm cum deep into Zoro. Behind him, Sanji shocks him by letting out a soft mewling sound—his hands have grown more tender too, caressing Zoro's waist distractingly. The swordsman suspects his softening dick is oversensitive due to his recent climax and he can't wait to pull out, but Luffy is still enjoying the remnants of his own high, moving his hips in lazy circles.
Finally, he stills and raises his head to look at his partners, giving them a wide smile. Zoro feels butterflies flutter in his stomach and gives a wobbly grin back, but he's interrupted in his attempt when Luffy lunges for a kiss, stealing his breath. They make out languidly, momentarily forgetting their position, until a light ruffling sound behind Zoro brings them back down to reality.
"How does Zoro feel now?" Luffy asks just a little bit breathlessly after they break their embrace. It makes Zoro chuckle against his will, which in turns seems to push Sanji's soft cock out of him with a small, wet sound, and Luffy laughs again.
"I'm better, Captain," Zoro finally answers when Luffy has calmed down. "Although, can't feel my legs anymore," he adds after giving the question a quick thought.
"Oh, I'll move," Luffy giggles. They shuffle around until Luffy is no longer sitting on the toilet, and Zoro takes his place when he realizes his legs are too numb to stay up. He immediately relaxes back onto it, legs spread unashamedly.
Once sat, he notices Sanji has already taken a step or two back and fastened his pants back up, and is suspiciously quiet. Zoro would think he's done with their encounter, because that's usually how they end—with one of them leaving the room silently—but the Cook stays standing there and lights a new cigarette instead. Focusing his attention on the blond, he realizes he is still shaking slightly, just as he was earlier. Could it be that–?
"Oi, Curly," he calls him. Sanji turns a glaring eye his way and Zoro realizes it looks somewhat shiny, maybe even a bit hazy. Undeterred, Zoro moves a hand from his belly down his dick, slowly and hopefully sensually. He watches as the Cook’s gaze follows it like he can’t look anywhere else; his cigarette consumes itself between his lips, forgotten. Finally, Zoro slides two thick and calloused fingers over his wet and slimy pubes, then around his bright red swollen dicklit—he shudders, but doesn’t stop, moving his digits down and spreading his folds provocatively instead. Sanji gulps, visibly, and the cigarette falls to the ground.
“No more comments about me being a dirty whore, heh?” he taunts, and Swirly-Brows looks like he wants to say something, but the only thing that comes out of his half open mouth is a soft gasp. Zoro hums, amused.
“‘S’what I thought, Pervert Cook. Maybe you wanna clean me up?” he adds, grinning. Luffy is looking at their exchange from the side, smirking.
“Oh, this is gonna be good,” he giggles, jumping up to sit on the edge of the small sink—which thankfully supports his weight. Sanji, for his part, looks like he’s having a very animated internal fight against uncontrollable urges Zoro can easily imagine, because he was feeling them just a few minutes ago. It seems like Sanji spent more time looking for Zoro in that field of flowers than he originally thought.
“Sanji, go,” Luffy says after the silence has stretched for a beat too long and the Cook hasn’t made a move. It’s a little disconcerting how well the order works—not that Zoro is about to make fun of the Cook for it, considering his own proclivities towards their Captain—because Sanji immediately takes a step forward. And then, he sinks to his knees in front of Zoro.
If Zoro still had doubts about whether or not Sanji was also under the influence of the pollen, he wouldn’t anymore, because there is no way the Cook would have knelt in a puddle of piss in his normal state—especially not in his fancy dress pants. He doesn’t look up, at first, eyes fixed somewhere at the base of the toilet, so Zoro scratches his throat. The blond raises his head shakily—his curly brow is frowning, but his red cheeks and shiny eye betray his state.
“Come one, drop the act, Curly,” Zoro coos meanly. With a newfound confidence he hasn’t felt in a few hours now, he uses the slimy hand that was resting idly by his private parts to catch Sanji’s face softly by the chin, spreading a mixture of fluids on his delicate skin. He can’t help grinning as he leans forward, thinking of how their roles are somewhat reversed compared to earlier, when Zoro was losing his mind with three fingers deep inside himself and Sanji was being a dick to him from behind the closed door. He watches the blond’s face flash through several expressions, before something akin to despair takes over, and his gaze slips to Zoro’s lips for a brief instant. Oh.
From his perch, Luffy apparently notices the fleeting glance and gasps like he just had a revelation.
“Sanji wants to kiss Zoro!” he exclaims like this wasn’t obvious to everyone present in the room. Zoro is taken aback nonetheless, because they just… don’t do that. Yet, Sanji is red in the face, now avoiding his gaze despite his chin being held between Zoro’s fingers—but he’s not denying it. Zoro has to admit he’s… unsure. He doesn’t hate the idea but… why?
“You jealous, Ero-Cook?” he asks before second guessing himself. In lieu of a confession, the blond grumbles something unintelligible and tries to pull his head back so Zoro isn’t holding him anymore, but he’s not fast enough. Zoro grips harder, forcing the man’s gaze back on him. A deer caught in headlights—Zoro guessed right.
“How about that, blondie…” Zoro speaks again, having come to a decision. “If you do a good enough job cleaning me up, I’ll give you a smooch,” he says, delightfully condescending. It makes Luffy giggles and wiggle his legs excitedly, apparently eager to watch. The Cook, for his part, looks about to explode from embarrassment, which serves him well.
Zoro lets him go and sits back up, and he swears Sanji looks disappointed at the loss of proximity. For the whole duration of their conversation, he could feel himself pulse softly, his overworked parts slowly recovering from multiple orgasms. He could also feel thick liquid trickle out of himself, wasted on no one when the Cook was right there and looking ravenous. He settles his back against the water tank behind him and moves his cunt forward invitingly, giving a meaningful look to Sanji. He is breathing hard, feverish; Zoro is the cure, and he knows it.
Finally, he moves forward tentatively: taking purchase over Zoro’s spread thighs, he brings his face between them and… breathes in, once. It’s like a dam breaks all of a sudden and the Cook’s open mouth is around Zoro’s cock, his tongue giving a big swipe below and gathering most of the white substance in one go. Taken by surprise, Zoro throws his head back with a gasp, his dirty hand flying to grab onto Sanji’s blond locks.
Undeterred, the Cook hums against him, swallowing his precious loot and sealing his lips around Zoro’s cock, which immediately swells back to life despite the fact it had finally started going down after at least an hour in a constant state of extreme arousal. Zoro curses under his breath, because somehow, he didn’t expect the Pervert Cook to go straight to it, thinking he would hurriedly lick him up and then ask for his due. But of course, Sanji is out of his mind with lust, and apparently determined to try and suck Zoro dry.
And try, he certainly does. Sanji grips Zoro’s thighs and spreads them further, bending his neck back so he can reach further under the swordsman. Helpless against the Cook’s smart tongue assaults, Zoro grants him access, canting his hips forward until Sanji manages to fit the appendage into his wet hole. From the corner of his eye, he notices Luffy’s unraptured attention on them. Understandable, given how intensely Sanji is working Zoro: it must be a sight to behold. More affected than he would like to admit, Zoro makes the terrible mistake of looking down, and finds the Cook looking up at him hotly—they are connected lips to lips, an ironic parallel Zoro doesn’t fail to notice, and the fire within Sanji is contagious.
“Fuck’s sake,” he grunts, and pulls on Sanji’s hair to force him off his cunt in an attempt to regain some control over the situation. The vision it creates is beyond obscene and Zoro regrets his action immediately: the Cook’s red mouth is open an inch from his sopping wet slit, connected together by thick strings of various fluids. Worse yet, the way Zoro is holding him by the hair, both of his hooded eyes are now uncovered, looking at him dazedly but with an intensity that sends shivers down Zoro’s spine. He finally gives up on resisting when Sanji licks his lips lazily, gathering the fluids in his mouth, before smirking. He pushes the Cook’s head back between his legs and the blond ‘humph’s against his folds, chuckling lowly.
“Who’s the fucking whore now?” Zoro asks in between two ragged breaths when Sanji goes back to work with a newfound enthusiasm, lapping his entrance and sucking his cock in turns. Luffy giggles, somewhat relieving some of the tension building within Zoro by distracting him.
“You guys are so silly. Even in the middle of fucking you’re still fighting,” the Captain says while looking down at them from his perch, nonchalantly picking his nose with his pinky finger. Zoro tries to chuckle but Sanji takes the remark personally, apparently, and chooses this moment to give a mean suck to his dick, and then another, and another; he does not relent until Zoro is a panting mess, both hands pulling at the Cook’s hair desperately while he tries to swallow back blissful moans. He wasn’t even aware he could still feel pleasure so intensely after the past hour or so.
Zoro is close to falling over the edge when Sanji suddenly slows down and lets go of his cock; the swordsman chokes on a large gulp of hair, trying to catch his breath and opens the eye he had shut close at some point in the past minutes. When he looks down at his torturer, he finds him gasping almost as hard, his face scrunched up in what looks like pain. Zoro only realizes why when Luffy looks down in between the Cook’s legs with a curious tilt of the head and grins:
“Sanji is leaking through his boxers,” he mocks with a sing-songy tone.
“Huh,” is all Zoro manages, at first, because he doesn’t even know when the Cook had time to open his pants. And then, because Sanji apparently lost the ability to defend his dignity (if he ever had any), Zoro adds, “Don’t let me stop you from doing something about it, Curly.” The Cook glares at him, but then seems to consider his options. A second later, he ‘tsk’s in irritation and one of his hands leaves Zoro’s thigh and disappears from his view, and the green-haired man allows himself a smug smirk.
It falls off his face when Sanji closes his mouth around him again. Zoro can tell he has a clear goal in mind, this time: he must be close to his own orgasm despite only starting to touch himself, because he seems determined to make Zoro come first. A competition, in short. Zoro is good at competitions, right?
Sanji might be even better at giving head, he realizes when he finds himself gripping the edge of the toilet with one hand and Sanji’s blond hair with the other a few minutes later; his breath is hurried and irregular because if he tries to breathe normally, then he will whine and moan instead, and he’s not about to give the Shitty Cook the satisfaction. He glances at him, once more taken aback by how good the man looks between his legs, and notices the fast movement of his arm busy working on himself where Zoro can’t see it. Sanji looks up before he has time to tear his gaze away and it’s like his blue eyes are magnetic – their eyes hold, hooded, pupils blown out, heavy with something unsaid. A recognition that they want each other more than they’d like to admit, maybe.
It’s unclear who surrenders first and lets himself go, moaning and cursing and watching, always watching. Zoro feels delirious, his being burning with the intensity of the pleasure that has been building up under Sanji’s avid tongue, ready to burst as soon as Zoro lets it. He feels better knowing Sanji is not faring much better down between his legs: Zoro feels each and every moan he tries to conceal in his throat as his whole body shakes with his arm, desperately fucking his fist while his tongue continues massaging Zoro’s glans to perfection.
In the end, Zoro is almost glad to lose their game for the look of satisfaction he witnesses taking over Sanji’s face when his cunt spasm and the first spurt of liquid hits his mouth.
“Fuck, you like that?” he can’t help teasing; Sanji whines, and Zoro comes harder, gushing again and again, moaning because he can’t stop himself, and because Sanji is right under him moaning too as he is quite literally drinking him in. He holds him in place by the hair even when it looks like the Cook is not breathing anymore, but the man doesn’t look like he wants to move away either. Zoro realizes he must be coming too when he nearly stops moving his tongue and his eyes shut tightly. Not about to ruin his own climax, Zoro takes matters into his own hands and finishes himself off by grinding against the Cook’s mouth—and maybe his nose and chin—until the last drop of his translucent spent has dropped on and around the blond’s awaiting face.
A minute or so later, the Cook forcibly pulls back and takes a loud breath, heaving like a man who nearly drowned—which, given the amount of liquid spread around his mouth and nose, and soaked in the collar of his white shirt, might as well have happened. Zoro can’t help letting out a chuckle when the Cook wipes his wet mouth with the back of his jacket’s sleeve, notices there’s cum on it, and makes a face. Sanji glares back, but Zoro doesn’t leave him time to complain; instead, he catches his face with both hands and moves his until they are no more than a breath apart. The Cook holds his for a second, and releases it against Zoro’s mouth, his visible eye fleeting down to it again.
“Still want it?” Zoro asks just to fuck with him.
Sanji’s voice is a bit hoarse when asks back “Do I deserve it?” with a shit-eating grin, because he knows he does. Zoro opens his mouth to retort something but he is interrupted by a hand pushing his head forward and his front teeth hitting the Cook’s with an audible, painful ‘clack’.
“Kiss already!” Luffy exclaims above them, the fucking idiot. Zoro wants to give him a piece of his mind but then, Sanji’s lips move against his and—oh, they are kissing, his own mouth following along as a reflex. He angles his face one way and the Cook the other, pain forgotten, and their tongues meet once, twice—his mouth tastes the same as how his whole face smells like. Just as fast as they met, they break apart, breathing a bit harder.
And then, Sanji’s eyes roll back and he passes out, falling backward. Zoro looks at his hands where they were holding his face just a second ago, and then up to Luffy, who is looking at his Cook like he’s worried he might be the reason why he is currently dead to the world on the dirty bathroom floor.
“We should probably go get–” Zoro attempts to say as he gets up from the toilet, before falling down too.
***
Luffy looks at his friends, sprawled on top of the other, one of them naked except for rumpled pants down to one ankle and a boot. He’s… not sure what just happened. One second they were kissing, and the next…
As if on cue, he hears a voice bellow in the corridor leading to the bathroom:
“Guys? You’ve been in there a long time, everything okay?!”
He recognizes Franky’s voice, but doesn’t have time to yell back before the door opens wide and the blue-haired man appears in its opening. He looks down first, mouth open in shock, and then at Luffy like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out when he sees Luffy’s dick, which is still out because his shorts are in the corner over there and not on his legs like they usually are.
“What the FUCK happened in here?” the carpenter yells.
“Pollen.” Luffy shrugs. Franky looks like he might cry, or something like that.
“I’ll get Chopper,” he sighs, and closes the door behind him.