[ There are a multitude of reasons to demand they don’t do anything to make her regret this, and while it’s only now, once they’re close enough for her to shift her weight forward and lean into the both of them, that Nami begins running a mental inventory of what those are. From her present point of view, the risks almost outweigh the gains. Had this situation been a hand of cards, she might have folded rather than upped the stakes. They are tense, they are annoying, and all things considered, she does not need this.
But she might want it.
Nami releases her hold on both of their shirts and lets her fingers flex, simultaneously assessing the circumstances and working to convolute them further. One hand settles on Sanji’s chest, enjoying the warm strength caught beneath her palm; the other lifts to touch Zoro’s cheek, guiding him to face her with all the thin patience of a person who has decided of the two of them he’s more likely to waste the whole night arguing if she doesn’t make a better option unavoidably obvious.
So it’s Zoro she decides to kiss first, because then he cannot fucking talk. She lets her lips part and her tongue flutter lightly against his bottom lip—something she has thought about doing enough times that actually getting to do it sends a shiver rolling up her spine. As she kisses him, the hand on Sanji’s chest travels to cradle the nape of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping over his jaw, pulling him close enough so that she can turn her head away from Zoro and kiss him instead. The corners of her lips twitch, suppressing a grin, as though the earnest eagerness Sanji always comes at her with is as apparent now as it ever was. She draws back only to steal another, more fleeting kiss while the hand on Zoro’s cheek curves over the side of his throat instead, mirroring the way she’s still holding Sanji after drawing back from his lips.
This has gone far enough that if she were to call the whole thing off and shoo them away, she’d at least get a few hours of peace while Zoro and Sanji are momentarily thrown off their fighting game (one can dream). Moderate risk, moderate reward, no danger of fully throwing their dynamic to the rocks; the smart thing to do.
But she does want it.
Nami’s eyes sweep left, then right, her already reddened lips pursing pensively, like she’s on the verge of delivering some profound verdict. ]
Quit being stupid.
[ Ideally now and later, but for the time being, Nami will settle for the present.
She’s just as foolish as they are for this, though even in the aftermath Nami will be unlikely to own up to that. Idiocy that isn’t hers is a much better thing to pin blame on. There’s a brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin that lights up her face, all affection and unabashed heat, as disarming as a pointedly thrown pair of panties. Nami lifts her chin slightly, this time leading them both close enough to kiss at the same time.
Having either side of her mouth meet a different pair of lips is exhilarating and strange, something she can already see herself seeking more of, even if, for now, she keeps it tame, holding onto that closeness before her head lowers, slipping away from them to see what they’ll do. ]
no subject
But she might want it.
Nami releases her hold on both of their shirts and lets her fingers flex, simultaneously assessing the circumstances and working to convolute them further. One hand settles on Sanji’s chest, enjoying the warm strength caught beneath her palm; the other lifts to touch Zoro’s cheek, guiding him to face her with all the thin patience of a person who has decided of the two of them he’s more likely to waste the whole night arguing if she doesn’t make a better option unavoidably obvious.
So it’s Zoro she decides to kiss first, because then he cannot fucking talk. She lets her lips part and her tongue flutter lightly against his bottom lip—something she has thought about doing enough times that actually getting to do it sends a shiver rolling up her spine. As she kisses him, the hand on Sanji’s chest travels to cradle the nape of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping over his jaw, pulling him close enough so that she can turn her head away from Zoro and kiss him instead. The corners of her lips twitch, suppressing a grin, as though the earnest eagerness Sanji always comes at her with is as apparent now as it ever was. She draws back only to steal another, more fleeting kiss while the hand on Zoro’s cheek curves over the side of his throat instead, mirroring the way she’s still holding Sanji after drawing back from his lips.
This has gone far enough that if she were to call the whole thing off and shoo them away, she’d at least get a few hours of peace while Zoro and Sanji are momentarily thrown off their fighting game (one can dream). Moderate risk, moderate reward, no danger of fully throwing their dynamic to the rocks; the smart thing to do.
But she does want it.
Nami’s eyes sweep left, then right, her already reddened lips pursing pensively, like she’s on the verge of delivering some profound verdict. ]
Quit being stupid.
[ Ideally now and later, but for the time being, Nami will settle for the present.
She’s just as foolish as they are for this, though even in the aftermath Nami will be unlikely to own up to that. Idiocy that isn’t hers is a much better thing to pin blame on. There’s a brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin that lights up her face, all affection and unabashed heat, as disarming as a pointedly thrown pair of panties. Nami lifts her chin slightly, this time leading them both close enough to kiss at the same time.
Having either side of her mouth meet a different pair of lips is exhilarating and strange, something she can already see herself seeking more of, even if, for now, she keeps it tame, holding onto that closeness before her head lowers, slipping away from them to see what they’ll do. ]