[ it was hard to pinpoint now, when this had become a daily occurrence. what had started out as zoro pointedly ignoring the other man’s existence had become the occasional snide remark to press his buttons. now, it was a constant back and forth, sniping at one another with a precision that would make usopp blush – neither ever gaining any real ground, but both too stubborn to let things go.
it was annoying as hell. he was annoying as hell, and zoro hadn’t decided if it was because he wanted to punch him in the mouth, or because he did want to fuck him. the bastard was more attractive than he had any right to be; he’d tried ignoring that too, which worked about as well as the rest of it.
nami was too perceptive for her own good.
unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for zoro, whatever verbal barb he’d been prepared to make lost in a muffle of fabric, the object catching him upside the head - he’d been so focused on whatever pointless argument they’d been having, he hadn’t even registered the movement. ]
Really-
[ he turned his head, gravity taking hold as the material slipped down to drape his shoulder.
in that moment, zoro realized three things. one, the object was, in fact, the dress that nami had previously been wearing. he knew that, not because he’d bothered to memorize the print or the colour or whatever – but because the second thing he’d realized was that nami had been about to walk out of the room, smooth skin on full display in a way that made zoro feel slightly dizzy. he’d only managed to tear his eyes away from the perfect curve of her ass because of the third thing.
that annoying ass waiter was already in hot pursuit, all but racing out after her.
sanji may have had the lead, but zoro wasn’t far behind him, moving briskly after him, the dress fisted in one hand. not like nami hadn’t held her own place in his late night thoughts, longer even than the waiter had. just as complicated, just as much a bad idea. ordinarily, it was the sort of instinct he’d tamp down and ignore, maybe jerk off to scratch the itch and be done with it.
but he’d be either stubborn or stupid to turn down that offer, and he wasn’t that stubborn. fuck it.
he’d arrived just in time to see sanji catch a faceful of her panties, and nami herself… well, they were far beyond the point of feigned disinterest, and zoro wasn’t bothering to disguise the way his gaze slid down to her thighs and back again. the light touch of her hand did nothing to ease that build of tension, and he found himself leaning into it despite himself – and closer into the cook’s space in the process. ]
Worry about yourself.
[ right. not exactly good. taking a breath, he tossed the dress he’d forgotten he’d been holding, letting it fall somewhere on the floor – easier not to have to explain that at the breakfast table.
he met sanji’s gaze, lips curled in a half smirk, inviting him to challenge him further. ]
no subject
it was annoying as hell. he was annoying as hell, and zoro hadn’t decided if it was because he wanted to punch him in the mouth, or because he did want to fuck him. the bastard was more attractive than he had any right to be; he’d tried ignoring that too, which worked about as well as the rest of it.
nami was too perceptive for her own good.
unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for zoro, whatever verbal barb he’d been prepared to make lost in a muffle of fabric, the object catching him upside the head - he’d been so focused on whatever pointless argument they’d been having, he hadn’t even registered the movement. ]
Really-
[ he turned his head, gravity taking hold as the material slipped down to drape his shoulder.
in that moment, zoro realized three things. one, the object was, in fact, the dress that nami had previously been wearing. he knew that, not because he’d bothered to memorize the print or the colour or whatever – but because the second thing he’d realized was that nami had been about to walk out of the room, smooth skin on full display in a way that made zoro feel slightly dizzy. he’d only managed to tear his eyes away from the perfect curve of her ass because of the third thing.
that annoying ass waiter was already in hot pursuit, all but racing out after her.
sanji may have had the lead, but zoro wasn’t far behind him, moving briskly after him, the dress fisted in one hand. not like nami hadn’t held her own place in his late night thoughts, longer even than the waiter had. just as complicated, just as much a bad idea. ordinarily, it was the sort of instinct he’d tamp down and ignore, maybe jerk off to scratch the itch and be done with it.
but he’d be either stubborn or stupid to turn down that offer, and he wasn’t that stubborn. fuck it.
he’d arrived just in time to see sanji catch a faceful of her panties, and nami herself… well, they were far beyond the point of feigned disinterest, and zoro wasn’t bothering to disguise the way his gaze slid down to her thighs and back again. the light touch of her hand did nothing to ease that build of tension, and he found himself leaning into it despite himself – and closer into the cook’s space in the process. ]
Worry about yourself.
[ right. not exactly good. taking a breath, he tossed the dress he’d forgotten he’d been holding, letting it fall somewhere on the floor – easier not to have to explain that at the breakfast table.
he met sanji’s gaze, lips curled in a half smirk, inviting him to challenge him further. ]
Yeah. I can behave.