Mid: I'm doing the opening for this One-Shot because Ari's (she prefers to be called "Me" in the fics) in the hospital. Nothing serious, she just can't stop blushing from what we wrote. Warning & Disclaimer: We own nothing, and there's SanZo. Swearing, kinks (like acousticophilia: aroused by sounds, spanking, and bondage, oh my) Yaoi, of course. If you don't like this sort of thing, please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. And don't read if you're like, I dunno, ten. In that case, read with a parent that probably won't let you anyway.

L~7~L

Roronoa Zoro wasn't a normal man, meaning he didn't give in to every man's normal desires. For instance, relationships and sex. His vigorous training and constant moving from village to town kept him occupied and focused. Had he ever paid attention to women or men, or even got his sexuality in check? No, attraction was attraction, and he could confess when a women had a nice busty chest, or when a man had a perfect body. He never had time for something as petty as intercourse; something that every man seemingly revolved around. Even in his free time, he's never dared to touch himself like that. Sex was completely useless in his opinion, and couldn't possibly be all that.

Well, he used to think that. One day, a certain intolerable shit-cook of the Straw Hats gave him a tempting offer. In exchange for sex whenever Sanji wanted, Zoro could have white rice and sea-king meat for dinner, (Sanji already knowing that it was his favorite) along with strong booze, whenever he wanted. Well, the shit-cook did have nice toned legs, and a handsome face, and he was pretty well-built. The swordsman immediately voiced that he would be getting the better end of the agreement, but that didn't stop him from refusing. Sanji was his rival, although they were nakama. To surrender himself so willingly and to be so vulnerable in front of the other man meant shame. There was no way in hell he'd do it. That was, until Sanji offered more booze when the Merry boarded the next island. Then Zoro finally caved in after a few days of debating. Sake was, after all, sweet nectar. When he thought about sex with the shit-cook, the words 'unfulfilling,' 'gross,' and 'embarrassing' reared their ugly heads. True, he didn't know what sex even felt like, but whatever you felt, Zoro was sure it wouldn't be worth his time.

That very night, Sanji approached him for their first encounter. Of course, they began after the cook berated him about being virginal. It was hardly what Zoro expected. Sanji had a few...kinks, supposedly, and Zoro was absolutely livid about the cook wanting him to be on the receiving end of said kinks. For about twenty seconds. He came the realization that it was Sanji that suggested the deal, so Zoro should have expected this much. Nevertheless, the first mate grudgingly gave himself up to the cook's weird turn-ons.

It's been three months since they started this strange "rivals-with-benefits" relationship, and Zoro knew exactly what Sanji liked now.

Sweaty, flushed, and beyond humiliated. Arms bound tightly to the ship's rafter above his head, Zoro squirmed in annoyance as only the pads of his feet touched the floorboards. The rope around his wrists were leaving deep bruises the harder he tugged. Sometimes Zoro regretted Sanji taking him down to the storage room to do this, mainly because he always had second thoughts about this kind of restriction. Pale, focussed hands snaked their way to his torso from behind, lightly stroking his sides. The hands slowly traveled downwards until they rested on his hips, which twitched with sensitive nerves. Sanji seemed satisfied whenever Zoro did something out of character, and/or lost himself in pleasure. Little did the cook know that the swordsman had been doing it on purpose, to get him excited, because that's what Zoro took pride in; being able to drive Sanji insane. But his hips jerked involuntarily this time, along with a small gasp escaping his throat.

"Zoro," the blonde hissed seductively, hands now gripping his bare ass pleasurably hard and massaging his cheeks in circles, "Which do you want, my hand or the belt?"

The swordsman's felt as if someone shoved lit candles on his cheeks. He'd never been asked before, nor did he want to make such an embarrassing decision. It didn't help the matter that Sanji's hands never ceased their slow, mesmerizing movements. They were scorching his skin and he couldn't help but start to lose his ability to breathe properly. One of his hands disappeared, but returned just as quickly with immense force. The slap of skin on skin echoed and made Zoro jumped in surprise. Even while they had sex, it seemed like they were fighting to see who was better. Zoro decided it to take it up a notch.

"Mm, your hand...!" he moaned generously, then resumed heavy panting. He heard Sanji swallow and smirked in secrecy. Did he want to make noises like a male whore? Not necessarily, but it always served great results.

"Ah!"

The slap was way harder than any of the other times. It stung like hell, and Zoro couldn't stay silent. His palm collided with his right ass cheek repeatedly without a break, continuous echoes of 'Smack!Smack!Smack!Smack!' bounced off the walls and into Zoro's ears. He figured out from previous encounters that erotic moans and screams got Sanji off, and it was obvious that's what the blonde was trying to get out of him. But Zoro doesn't scream, not for or from anything. Sure, perhaps he could throw out a few wanton moans, but that alone wouldn't get the job done. So it was settled then.

As Sanji's swings became harder and inhumanly faster, the burning sensation grew tenfold. On the last hard 'Smack!', a genuine short-lived scream tore from Zoro's lips, one that he didn't intend on revealing. His cock was twitching against his stomach as it began to harden. He was positive his ass was practically glowing red. He moaned at the feeling of Sanji caressing the abused flesh greedily.

Sanji's breath was awfully ragged as he commanded the other to make more sounds against his ear. Zoro grinned; he had no idea what impulsed him to say, "Make me," but the damage was already done. And what was done was unfortunately promised. Sanji growled lowly, accepting the challenge and dropped to his knees with Zoro's ass still in his hold.

The swordsman felt an 'Oi' building up, but his unasked question was soon answered when his cheeks were forcibly pulled apart. He shivered as what he assumed to be Sanji's tongue traced over his entrance. It was unbearably hot; like raging flames. It was clear that the cook was going all out for this particular battle. Zoro didn't have to pretend to moan unashamedly or shudder through it all. Everything was real. Sanji's tongue had extreme talent, and it was making everything he felt reality-grippingly real. He tried to snap his binds to escape, but his jerky movements only succeeded in alerting the other of his plans. Grabbing his hips, Sanji shoved his wet appendage in, and the marimo's knees actually buckled. "AH! Hah...! F-fuck."

Sanji seemed please with this reaction, on account of his own loud moan. Zoro instinctively pushed his hips back and forth until Sanji was thoroughly fucking him with his tongue. Suddenly, emptiness engulfed Zoro as the wonder-filling tongue was taken away, and Sanji rose to his feet. The pressure on his wrists shifted, but the rope remained untouched. Sanji untied him from the rafter and forced him to his knees roughly, pushing him forwards so that he laid on his arms. Zoro scowled when he realized his backside was high for all to see. Damn cook, why was this position apparently his favorite?

He saw Sanji walk in front of him, and winced as his hair was yanked back. The cook's grin was oddly alluring, if not a tad bit frightening of what was to come. Kneeling, his large, swollen cock brushed the side of Zoro's lips, which the swordsman immediately opened with a small groan. It was shoved in deep, hitting the back of his throat repeatedly as Sanji thrusted in and out. Zoro gagged as the size stretched his mouth widely. He sucked at every opportunity he had, along with choking swallows. "Someone's enjoying himself," the blonde chuckled.

The hell is wrong with me? Zoro thought, moaning unconsciously. He's not lying. I never felt like this all those other times. I'm...burning. It feels so good it hurts.

SLAP!

"Mhmhh!" Zoro yelled, the vibrations giving Sanji wonderful sensations. The cook had bent over Zoro, shoving his cock in deeper and gently crushing Zoro's nose against his abdomen. The swordsman's ass was brutally struck again, and again, and again until the word 'pain' practically glowed in the red hue.

"Have I ever told you-" SLAP! "-that your ass-" SLAP!SLAP! "-is so damn perfect-" SLAP!SLAP!SLAP! "-when it's been spanked-" SLAP!SLAP!SLAP!SLAP! "-raw?"

Zoro felt like an idiot, groaning, arching, and wiggling his ass like he had zero pride or common sense. Tonight was beyond intense for some unknown reason, and he'd give anything for every night to be like this. Whether it was Sanji's attitude, or something in the air as they sailed, Zoro was definitely feeling it. "Keep sucking," the cook ordered, opening a bottle of lube with a deliberately loud 'pop'. Zoro shivered, but complied. There was rarely any room for his tongue, let alone should he try moving it. Bitter, salty, but oddly sweet coated his taste buds, and he moaned loudly while swirling around the length. He could get addict to it if he wasn't careful.

A finger. Zoro was positively sure that was just one, single finger inside him. It certainly didn't feel that way, though. The slick lube enhanced the stretching invasion (that's what Zoro blamed it on) and made him moan eagerly with his mouth full. Sanji shuddered, and added another.

The burning turned straight into lava as Sanji's fingers flexed and twisted leisurely. Suddenly, the blonde tugged Zoro's head back until his mouth was completely empty. "Don't want it to end before it starts," he admitted.

"Oh, is that a confession of how good I am?" Zoro smirked weakly. It was kind of hard to be cocky when there was something stuck up your ass.

Another finger was added quickly, probably for punishment. Sanji crawled behind him and propped him up on his elbows while he continued to work, Zoro's hips pushing back every once in a while. That was three, right? Three was minimum. Zoro relaxed to allow them in further, but another long dextrous finger went in as well. Four? Well, goddamn. Why don't you put your whole fist in there while you're at it? he thought sarcastically. Although, he briefly wondered what it would feel like-Wait, no. Hell no, he was just doing this for the booze and dinner option. Whatever Sanji wanted to do was his choice. Maybe that was already his intentions...?

Zoro was positive the other man's entire hand was practically thrusting in and out of him by this point, but he'd be damned if it didn't send his spine melting. The fingers were retracted slowly and Zoro whined lightly at the loss. He mentally cursed himself for such an impulsive sound, but that only made Sanji's pace fasten. The lube bottle was popped open again, and though the swordsman couldn't see him, he could picture what the cook's express held. Excitement and pleasure scrunching up his features-

Why the fuck was he thinking about that?

If Zoro had a favorite part in this whole agreement, it would be this one. Not that he ever dwelled on it, or wished that they could do it more in the day time, no siree. But he liked seeing this dominant side of the blonde, since he always acted like a lovesick idiot all the time. Sanji liked to do this roughly, and with all he had. He put as much passion and effort into sex as he would in a battle and meals. Kind of like Zoro. The pleasant stretching and pressure wasn't all that bad either.

These thoughts are so...unusual. Normally, we'd fuck and get it over with, but now...the shit-cook is taking his sweet time. Come to think of it, I've never seen him come before. I wonder what he looks like...He's fucking with my head, I'm sure that's just it. Yeah, that's it. Heh, I'm getting all worked up for nothing. Oi, what the hell's he doing back there? Why's it so qui-

"AH!" Zoro gasped loudly at the sudden feeling of Sanji's cock pushing through the first ring of muscle. Sanji groaned above him, stopping to give Zoro time to adjust.

"I'm guessing the element of surprise worked, huh?" the cook grinned smugly.

"Wait, Sanji," Zoro surprised himself, as well as the other since there was no insulting nickname said. His face grew as hot as a bonfire, and he kept his eyes shut through this degrading request.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Can...can we do this a different way?"

Sanji blinked, but pulled out obediently. Zoro had never talked during sex, not that the cook ever forbid or kept him silent on purpose. And he certainly never expected the swordsman to actually ask him about the positions they fucked in. As the blonde was lost in thought, Zoro flipped onto his back with his arms shooting straight up and stared him dead-on into his eyes. Again, Sanji blinked. What brought on this sudden courage? Zoro's cheeks were redder than a strawberry, so no doubt the other man's pride was paying direly. He faintly heard "What, you shitty dartbrow?" which made him return to the aching matter at hand.

Kneeling on both knees, Sanji placed his hands on Zoro's hips and pulled, steadily dragging him onto his lap. The swordsman watched as his legs hung limply on either side of Sanji. He blushed even harder. Damn, why'd he have to go and open his mouth? He could've had several chances in the future to see the cook co-Hold on. He was already thinking about the future sex with Sanji? Who the hell decided that there will be such a thing? Him, apparently.

Sanji was pushing in again before Zoro knew it, inch by agonizingly tiny inch. The cook's face was focussed, determined, and Zoro could tell he was trying his damnest to keep his eyes open. "Fuck," he grunted, stopping a quarter of halfway to control his breathing. This was going too slow for the marimo. He shifted his body slightly, receiving the smallest of moans from the man above him. His pleasured expression turned into a scowl as he dug his nails into Zoro's skin. In the first mate's opinion, he wanted to see more of it. "Moron, If I move, I come," he clarified.

"Well, fucking hold it and hurry up," Zoro growled breathlessly. It was the definition of torture. He tried to push himself forward, but failed miserably since the cook had a firm grip on him.

"I've never seen you so ea-"

"I'm not fucking eager," Zoro defended a little too quickly.

Sanji smirked, then the bastard had the balls to pull further out, "Will you beg for it?"

"Will you go to hell?"

Another inch unfairly taken away.

Zoro sighed as the lovely heat coiling in his stomach began to rise under the cook's gaze. He had already moaned like a bitch in heat and whimpered like a kicked animal, what would a simple beg do to possibly harm his manhood any more than that? Multiple, but Zoro wasn't thinking about them. He needed Sanji. Badly. He was so hard it was going numb. So, he did what was logical in this situation. Both logical and vengeful.

Eyes slightly closed and targeted on Sanji, Zoro arched upwards far enough to break any normal person's spine. "Sanji-san, please give me your cock?"

"...I...I should have thought about how this would effect me beforehand."

"What do you-Nngh!"

The stretching was greater and there was a slight sting of familiar, but it was gladly welcomed. Sanji didn't stop halfway this time; it went in with smooth effort. Zoro panted mildly. He had more control than what he was showing. Sanji gave a knowing look when he angled the swordsman's hips, causing Zoro to squirm and arch. His sweet spot was memorized, and the cook could drive Zoro mental with how fast or hard he hit it with a simple motion. Sanji rocked slowly, pressing that ecstatic place until Zoro's entire body was trembling with impatient need and mind-numbing pleasure. The blonde grinned, "Do you like it when I'm inside you, Zoro-kun?"

Zoro didn't reply; he knew of a better way of revenge. The swordsman used his bound hands to balance himself above his head as he shoved Sanji's cock all the way in and pulled it out over and over with just his hips, moaning loudly each time. His sounds were getting to the cook, he knew it from the way the other tightly grasped his thighs for dear life. Sanji's face in pure bliss was beautiful; drenched in sweat, his spiraled eyebrow curled, slightly flushed, bottom lip being ruthlessly bitten. How would those lips feel on his own? Sanji never kissed him, so would he be willing to? The marimo's stomach started doing impossibly wild flip flops the longer he held that thought. Zoro craned his neck towards the cook, silently asking but too prideful to speak. Sanji stared at him with half-lidded eyes full of surprise and, oddly enough, happiness.

The blonde leaned forward unsurely, but Zoro's irritation got the best of both of them. He rolled his eyes and draped his arms over Sanji's neck, effectively trapping the cook and desperately pulling him down. Once their lips touched, Zoro shuddered violently. Soft but firm, scruff gently tickling his cheek, slippery tongue forcing its way down his throat-

Zoro came, much to Sanji's surprise and utter shock, on his own stomach and a bit of his chest, panting like he just ran a marathon. Had he just...? From a kiss...? Sanji's kiss? The swordsman tightened around him bone-meltingly hard as he rode out his orgasm, and the cook had to use every ounce of his will not to come. He thrust in at a fast pace, pulling out as quick as his brutally pushed in. His hips snapped back and forth frantically, and Zoro writhed beneath him, his legs starting to shake and quiver from the onslaught of pleasure. Moaning wantonly into Sanji's ear, the swordsman licked his earlobe, slowly bringing it into his mouth to suck on. That was the blonde's demise. White blinded his vision before he spilled inside of Zoro, shivering through it until he was done.

They laid there in a heap of limbs, trying to regain control of their throbbing lungs. Sanji pulled out and collapsed limply beside Zoro. He smiled brightly at him, and the swordsman's stomach did those annoying twists and turns again. He groaned and used his teeth to rip off the ropes confining him, causing Sanji to raise an eyebrow. "What's that look for?" he questioned.

Zoro refused to look at him, that would only make the stomach backflips double. A finger stroked his flushed cheek hesitantly, giving him oddly pleasant heartburn. "My stomach feels weird," he admitted quietly.

"Did...did I got too deep?"

"NO! Fucking bastard," Zoro growled. Oh, the humiliation in that simple question.

"What sort of weird?"

Zoro thought for a moment. "Like there's a hyper acrobat on drugs training for the championship in there."

Sanji blinked for what felt like the millionth time that night. That was certainly a way of description, but should he have expected any less honestly? "Should we wake up Chopper? When did it start?"

"A-A few minutes ago..."

Sharp pain engulfed the side of his arm, drawing a surprised yelp from Zoro. He angrily glanced over to the other man, who was practically seething in rage. The belt was clutched in his hand, and Zoro realized that the bastard actually hit him with it. "Idiot mosshead! Why the fuck didn't you tell me?! After all the shit we just did?! Fuck! Get up so we can get Chopper-"

"It doesn't hurt, dumbass. It's like the acrobat is wearing a...a pillowsuit. A really soft pillowsuit."

The cook suddenly smiled widely, and hugged a mildly protesting Zoro close to his chest. What was the cook doing; did he want to go another round already? He felt a sudden warm breeze on the top of his head, and pieced together that Sanji was sniffing his hair. Burying his nose in it was more like it. The swordsman blushed while trying to free himself, his stomach feeling on fire. "What the hell, shit-cook-?"

"How does your stomach feel now?" Sanji grinned, though Zoro had no way of knowing. The marimo got considerably quiet, and his struggles ceased as the cook brought the other warm body closer. He had a theory, but didn't feel like getting struck in the face any time soon. "...This wasn't apart of our deal, you know," Sanji said.

"What wasn't?"

"Falling in love," the cook answered bluntly.

Zoro tensed, and something finally clicked in his mind. This was what people meant when they talked about love? This goddamn annoying feeling whenever Sanji just looked at him? Zoro heard what people said about love at taverns; that love was either stupid or hurtful or even the best thing in the world. He's never dwelled on it before, but the acrobat inside him was slowly coming to a decision. Aren't two people needed to actually enjoy love? He doubted that Sanji loved him or saw him as something other than a fuck and rival.

The cook sighed, reminding Zoro that he wasn't alone. The arm around his waist loosened as a mop of blonde locks leaned on his shoulder. Sanji whispered a simple question in his ear, but it was enough to turn the acrobat into a million delicate doves.

"Well, I guess we both got the better end of it, didn't we?"

Zoro pulled him into a rough kiss.

Another round was more than likely now.