FIC: The One with the Sex Pollen [One Piece]

[darktrent182]

TITLE: The One with the Sex Pollen
DISCLAIMER: One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: One Piece
PAIRING: Sanji/Zoro
WORD COUNT: 4,437
RATING: NC-17 liekwoah.
WARNINGS: Kink.
SUMMARY: When sex pollen hits the ship, Sanji helps Zoro out.
PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: For sybile, because she drew a very smutty picture. This fic was also partly inspired by this picture too. Because Zoro can talk clearly while holding a sword in his mouth.

***

Sanji closed the door gently behind him, wiping his hands on the half-apron he was wearing and breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a difficult decision, but Chopper was the one who needed a clear head in order to deal with the aftermath of this shitty pollen making its way through the crew.

It had been Luffy's fault, really. If he hadn't found that 'really cool' plant and brought it on board at the last island where they'd made landfall, then the entire crew wouldn't be in various states of undress, doing things that no one wanted to admit to doing while sober and in their right minds.

"Oi, love-cook."

Well, maybe not the entire crew. Sanji raised his visible eyebrow at Zoro, who was leaning against a wall, looking for all the world like he was bored.

"What?" Sanji asked.

"Did Chopper take it?" the swordsman asked.

Sanji nodded. "It took a bit of convincing, but yeah. He's sleeping pretty deeply now." At Zoro's confused frown, he explained, "One of the side effects, apparently. He's going to be out of it for a while, from what he told me."

Zoro snorted. "He'll probably wake up after it's all over."

"We can only hope," Sanji said, taking a shaky drag of his cigarette.

Zoro's eyes narrowed on the movement. "Haven't gotten off yet?"

"Not that it's any of your damn business," Sanji snarled, glaring at him. "But no."

If it weren't for the faint note of concern in the swordsman's voice, Sanji would've been more than happy to let him have it. As it was, he was tired, stressed, and he really, really needed to get laid.

"Now if you don't mind," Sanji managed, his teeth demolishing his cigarette as he spoke, "I'm headed for the cabin."

Zoro shook his head. "Luffy's in there with Usopp already," he warned. "Unless you want to make it a threesome, I'd avoid it."

Sanji stopped in mid-step, glaring at Zoro out of the corner of his eye. "All right, shitty marimo, you have any bright ideas?"

Zoro glared back reflexively and shrugged. "Just don't do it somewhere visible. The last thing we need right now is for a pirate ship or the Marines to see us with our pants down."

Sanji couldn't help a small snort at the bad pun. "Thanks for the mental image," he growled. "What about you? You already beat off with your katana?"

Zoro's glare intensified. "I'm fine, dartboard-eyebrow. But if you get off on getting your ass kicked, I'll be more than happy to oblige."

"Please." Sanji snorted, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it out with one shoe. "If I want to get off, I'll do it the old-fashioned way." He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers at Zoro with a smirk. "Now, if you need an ass-kicking to get your rocks off--"

"You wish." Zoro snickered. "Not going to ask Nami or Robin to help you out? Given that everyone's gotten hit with the pollen by now, this'll be the only time you'll have a shot in hell."

"Shut the hell up, green algae!" Sanji shouted. "If, by any chance, Nami-san or Robin-chan wanted my help, I'd be more than happy to assist them, but I'm not the kind of slime that would force myself on such tender, delicate ladies--"

Zoro snorted, and that was all it took for Sanji to leap at him, one leg drawing up, ready to slam into the shitty swordsman's shoulder. Zoro saw the move coming, unfortunately, and his hand was there to meet him, palm catching his calf a few inches before his leg would have made contact.

"I will not have Nami-san or Robin-chan insulted," Sanji growled, using the grip Zoro had on his leg as a support so that he could bring his right leg up to kick the swordsman in the head. Zoro caught that kick as well, using Sanji's own momentum to throw him towards the deck. Sanji caught himself with an improvised handstand, swinging his legs around, ready to slam into Zoro's chest.

The sole of one shoe caught the blunt end of a katana, and the battle was on.

Legs flying, katana flashing, the two of them traded blows until one point when Sanji tried out a new move, aiming for Zoro's chest while at the same time sweeping the man's legs out from underneath of him. Caught off-guard, Zoro landed on the deck with grunt, the grip on his katana firm. Sanji had a moment of victory before his legs were swept out from underneath of him as well by the blunt edge of a katana.

Brown eyes met blue as they tried to recover their breath, their chests heaving from the exertion.

"You seriously can't," Sanji panted, "get it up without it turning into a fight, can you?"

Zoro's growl was half-hearted at best. He muttered something, but Sanji couldn't hear him.

Sanji frowned. "What was that?"

"I said that it's not like that," Zoro panted, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He clawed his way to lay on his front, and then managed to get to his hands and knees.

"Then what's it like?" Sanji asked, his eyes narrowing.

Zoro blinked at him for a second, as though he'd forgotten what he'd just said, and surprisingly enough, his cheeks flushed a little. "I'm not telling you," he grumbled.

Sanji frowned, finding himself intrigued. Zoro not coming clean with something? Sure, the man had his secrets, but Sanji would've thought that sex wouldn't be a touchy subject for him. "What? Are you gay?"

Zoro glared at him, managing a tired-looking kneeling position. "I'm not that picky."

The cook blinked. "Really?"

The swordsman rolled his eyes. "What would be the point if I--" When he saw Sanji start to sit up, looking visibly interested, he clammed up.

"If you what?" Sanji asked, absently straightening his collar.

"Never mind," Zoro growled, standing up through what looked like sheer willpower alone. Sanji glanced at the marimo's pants and wasn't surprised to see the beginnings of a bulge there.

"Oi," Sanji said, standing up as well. "You can't say something like that and expect me to let it go."

Zoro snorted. "You can live with the disappointment." He turned away from Sanji, headed toward the rigging. "I'll be keeping watch. Have fun with your hand."

"Oh, no, you don't," Sanji growled, dusting himself off as he followed after him. He grabbed Zoro's arm and turned him around roughly. "Chopper said that until this stuff gets out of our systems, we're not going to be much use. What makes you think you're going to be able to see anything while you're up there, huh?"

Zoro rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine."

"Oh, really?" Sanji asked, glancing down significantly at the swordsman's pants. "You're already hard."

"And what makes you think I can't take care of it?" Zoro sneered.

"The fact that you haven't 'taken care of it' since we all started showing symptoms," Sanji snapped.

"Oh, so you've been watching me?" Zoro asked, smirking. "Why, love-cook, I didn't know you swung that way."

"I'll show you swinging, you stupid--" Sanji growled before finally losing his patience and kissing the green-haired idiot.

The kiss had started as a one-sided argument, and then both of them started arguing with teeth and tongue, and then Sanji found himself being half-pushed, half-pulled away, his lips separating from Zoro's with a wet sound. Brown eyes stared into his for a long moment before Zoro shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks, cook," Zoro murmured. It sounded almost... gentle.

Sanji rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Zoro's neck, his free hand running through Zoro's surprisingly soft green hair to make sure the swordsman didn't try something stupid, like pushing him away. "What is it now, marimo?" he murmured back. "Everyone already swore that no one would use any of this as blackmail material."

Zoro snorted. "Yeah, that's a comforting thought," he muttered. Sanji felt two warm hands rest carefully on his hips, and the swordsman didn't seem able to stop himself from leaning forward and brushing a kiss against his lips. "I said I'll be fine."

"No, you won't," Sanji said, licking his lips. Zoro's eyes were following the progress of his tongue. "When did you last get off?"

The swordsman looked thoroughly unimpressed. "What part of 'I'll be fine' didn't you get?"

"You don't care if it's a man or a woman," Sanji pointed out. "And you haven't had an orgasm since this whole thing started." He moved forward a little, sliding an experimental leg between Zoro's and rubbing carefully against the bulge he felt there.

Zoro's eyes widened for a moment before he glared at Sanji. "Sanji," he growled. "Knock it off."

One thing Sanji hadn't counted on was the flush returning to Zoro's cheeks.

His visible eyebrow lifting, Sanji rubbed his thigh against Zoro again. This time, Sanji could see the muscles in Zoro's jaw clench. The hands holding his hips in a punishing grip, though, didn't help matters much.

"Sanji." Zoro's voice was one that was usually reserved for when he was wearing his bandanna over his forehead, and someone was going to be losing a frightening amount of blood in five minutes or less, satisfaction guaranteed. "Stop."

Sanji snorted. "I can still move my leg, moron," he pointed out, and proceeded to prove his point by keeping up the slow rubbing.

The only sound Zoro made was a deep-chested growl that Sanji could almost feel, and then he was leaning in, hard and fast, his lips and teeth crashing into the cook's. Sanji tightened the grip he had in Zoro's hair, pulling him away with more effort than he thought he would need, only for Zoro to redirect his desperate attention to Sanji's neck.

Sanji may or may not have closed his eyes at the feel of teeth and tongue practically worshiping his neck, the suction sure to leave a mark that Sanji really didn't give a damn about at the moment. He'd managed to keep the rubbing going through some kind of miracle he would figure out later, but the feel of Zoro's mouth on his throat and the swordsman's hands on his hips -- well, now one hip and his ass -- was very distracting.

Luckily, a small part of Sanji's mind that wasn't focused on Zoro's hands (strong, rough, delicious), or his teeth (sharp, dangerous, so very good), or his body (pushing, pushing, pushing him back, oh, there's the mast) was asking a single question. Somehow, it made it from Sanji's brain to his mouth, and there it was, whispered in Zoro's ear, breath tickling the edge before Sanji's tongue followed it.

"Want me to keep using my leg, or should I use something else?"

From one moment to the next, all movement stopped. The arms holding him in place stopped, the mouth on his neck disappeared, and it was as though Zoro had frozen in place. After what felt like an hour of dead silence, Zoro pulled back slowly.

Brown eyes stared into his.

"Well?" Sanji asked, his voice hoarse.

"I--" Zoro began, but he cut himself off with a shake of his head.

"Oi, marimo," Sanji growled. "Get your head out of your ass." He licked his lips, feeling the tingle that he vaguely remembered Chopper mentioning.

Zoro's eyes narrowed, the slightly dazed look in them clearing slightly. "Your lips tingling?"

Sanji nodded. "We need to do something, fast." He glanced around, spying the door to the storage room. "We'll have some privacy there. Come on."

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Zoro sighed and nodded, allowing himself to be led.

Once inside, Sanji turned, pushing Zoro against the door and kissing him deeply, moaning a little as the tingling in his lips increased. Zoro's answering moan against his lips made them buzz, and soon, Zoro's hands were right back on his hips, squeezing at irregular intervals, sometimes wandering over his ass.

Sanji surfaced from the kiss, letting his lips wander over the swordsman's jawline. "You never answered my question."

"Which one?" Zoro half-moaned, his eyes sliding to half-mast.

"Should I keep using my leg," Sanji murmured, his voice almost a purr, "or use something else?" To illustrate his point, the cook let one of his hands wander down the front of Zoro's chest before fingers traced the fly of Zoro's pants.

Zoro breathed in slowly through his nose. "Something else," he gritted out, his voice almost a whisper. Sanji waited for a moment to see if Zoro would elaborate, but in typical marimo fashion, he didn't.

"You're going to make me guess?" Sanji murmured, getting closer to Zoro's left ear. "That's not very fair, is it." He nibbled at Zoro's ear, the gold pendants swaying and clicking as he did so.

"I'm not interested in fair," Zoro snarled hoarsely.

"Of course not," Sanji muttered. His teeth tugged gently at Zoro's earlobe. "Is it a body part, or something I can find in here?"

Sanji could practically feel Zoro's face burning. "Body part."

"Good," Sanji hummed. "I really didn't feel like having to search for anything." He kissed just under Zoro's pendant earrings, his hands sliding under Zoro's white pullover, fingers tracing old scars. Zoro drew in a shaky breath, his hands tightening on Sanji's hips.

"Do something, shit-cook," Zoro half-growled.

"I am." Sanji smirked, letting his hands continue their slow exploration. "Unless you want to play a game instead?"

"Game?" As much as Zoro was turned on, his voice sharpened with suspicion.

Sanji hummed, kissing a soft trail down Zoro's neck, his lips tasting beads of sweat. "Mm, yes. I name a body part, and you tell me if I'm hot or cold. Got it?"

The sound of Zoro snorting while Sanji had his lips on the man's neck was a novel experience. "Fine."

Sanji snorted. "Fine." He licked at Zoro's neck again, just a small touch. "Thigh."

"Warm," Zoro murmured.

"Hip," Sanji said.

"Colder," Zoro replied.

Sanji kissed to the hollow of Zoro's throat, and from his vantage point, he could see that Zoro's face was red, but it was lessening a little. Not the sort of reaction from a man who would've rather suffered blue balls than tell Sanji a personal preference of his. "Knee?"

A pause. "Warmer."

"Shin." Sanji kissed the swordsman's Adam's apple gently.

Zoro's face was getting redder. "Warmer."

Sanji licked at the very faint rasp of stubble under Zoro's chin. He had an idea of where this was going now, and given what he knew about the swordsman, Sanji had to say he wasn't surprised. For whatever bizarre reason, the man liked weapons, and since Sanji himself didn't use any except for his legs, it made sense.

"Foot."

No answer this time, but then, Sanji had to admit he wasn't expecting one. When he pulled back to look at Zoro, his eyes were closed, his jaw was clenched, his face was red across his cheekbones, and sweat was opening standing out on his forehead.

Any other time, Sanji might have relished the sight of the shitty marimo looking so tense and uncomfortable, but this wasn't the time. What a man did in the privacy of his own bedroom wasn't the kind of thing Sanji gave a damn about, and he wasn't in a position to laugh if Zoro preferred a different sexual position.

"Oi," Sanji murmured, kissing Zoro's lips gently.

"What." Zoro had returned the kiss just as lightly, but his voice was daring Sanji to make something of what he'd just not-admitted.

"Get this off." Sanji tugged at Zoro's shirt a few times before his hands moved downwards, undoing the button of Zoro's fly and unzipping.

Zoro froze for a second before he complied, one hand grabbing the hem and removing the shirt in one smooth motion. As Zoro let the shirt fall on the floor, Sanji was easing the fly open.

"Forget to do the laundry?" Sanji asked with a smirk, reaching into Zoro's pants and tugging at the stiff flesh once.

Zoro gasped, reaching out his left hand and gripping Sanji's shoulder firmly. "Very funny," he growled. "Get on with it."

"But of course," Sanji nodded a little mocking bow before tugging more firmly this time.

"Oi, shit-cook--" Zoro snarled.

Sanji watched him closely, letting his thumb travel in long, slow circles, spreading the pre-come around the head before tracing a sticky stripe down the underside of Zoro's erection. Zoro groaned this time, his hand reaching down to grab Sanji's wrist.

"Sit down," Sanji whispered. When Zoro opened his mouth to object, the cook stole a quick kiss before explaining, "I'll be able to reach better."

Zoro stared at him for a moment before he silently obeyed, his back sliding down the length of the door until he was sitting on the floor, leaning back enough to require using his left hand to hold him up.

Sanji looked down at him, admiring the beads of sweat trailing down hard muscle, the faint trace of red on Zoro's face, the way his hair looked a little darker, and of course, the flushed erection standing proudly between his legs, a thatch of green above it.

The cook reached down to take off his shoe, sliding it off and setting it aside before using both hands to slip the black sock off slowly. He was the first person to admit that he was doing a strip tease with a sock, but with the way that Zoro's hard-on was twitching, it was nice to know the effort wasn't wasted.

When the sock was finally removed and laid on top of the black dress shoe, Sanji adjusted his stance just a hair and slowly folded his pants leg up, large black folds revealing pale legs with dark blond hair. When he'd reached to just below the knee, he stopped folding and let his hands drop. Then he carefully slid his bare foot along the inseam of Zoro's pants, starting at the knee and making his way down, watching the swordsman's face all the while.

In all his years of living on the sea, watching people's faces light up with delight at one of his culinary masterpieces or watching the faces of idiot pirates who had come to the realization that they were literally about to have their asses kicked, this was the first time that Sanji had a chance to see real, heart-pounding desire blossom before his eyes. He might have preferred it to be Nami-san's or Robin-chan's, but with the show that Zoro was giving with just his face -- the telltale flush, the clenched jawline, his teeth bared in what could've been a nervous grin or a pathetic attempt to scare Sanji senseless -- Sanji didn't mind.

By the time that Sanji's foot had made it to the base of the man's hard-on, his toes lightly resting on Zoro's testicles since he wasn't entirely sure just how much pressure to apply there, Zoro's brown eyes were locked onto his. One hand -- Zoro's right -- was reaching up, shaking with effort before wrapping around Sanji's leg. It was less of a grip, and more of a gentle touch, as if making sure Sanji was there, and that he was real.

The cook breathed in slowly, and then flexed his foot, spreading his toes as wide as he could before resting the ball of his foot on the base of Zoro's penis.

Zoro's eyes slipped closed, and his lips parted just a little, breathing heavily.

Applying just a little bit of pressure, Sanji moved his foot slowly up the hard flesh, the skin warm and sticky. Zoro's answering groan was almost obscenely loud. When Sanji got to the head of the penis, he carefully rolled his foot, his toes catching and spreading the pre-come that was building up before sliding back down again, the pressure the same as before.

"Harder," Zoro moaned, and if his face wasn't desire personified, his voice furry and warm.

Sanji obliged, adding a little more pressure. "Look at me."

Zoro's eyes opened with considerable effort, the brown irises darker with desire now. His eyebrows were drawing down into a frown that spoke volumes of just how much he didn't want to look at Sanji right now, but the swordsman was still meeting his gaze.

Sanji's foot moved, just a little harder, a little faster, and in movements, choked off groans were escaping from between Zoro's white teeth, as though they were being ripped out of him. A few more strokes, and Zoro's eyes were slamming shut, his face was the color of a ripe tomato topped with green leaves, and he grunted one last time before he came, semen landing on his chest and stomach in thick, white stripes.

Zoro sagged back, his head thunking against the door heavily. Sanji would've thought the marimo would've noticed the pain if nothing else, but he was slumping against the door like his bones had liquefied.

Well, well, Sanji thought to himself smugly as he set his foot down on the deck, we aim to please.

Zoro lay propped against the door, breathing heavily through his mouth for a while before his eyes slowly opened.

"Forgetting something, shithead?" Sanji asked, the nearly affectionate smile on his face softening the cutting remark.

Zoro grunted in typical marimo style and managed to sit up after two tries. "C'mere."

"Why should I?" Sanji asked, his mouth running on auto-pilot.

Zoro glared at him, but considering the fact that he'd just had an orgasm, it was about as effective as a puppy glaring at a very large cat. "Stop being stupid," he muttered.

Sanji snorted, but knelt down gracefully to look him in the eye. No small feat, really, considering the erection he was maneuvering with. "What is it?"

Zoro tugged at the fly of Sanji's slacks, his fingers fumbling a few times before he managed to undo the button. He shot Sanji an annoyed look when he couldn't unzip the slacks, but Sanji smirked at him.

"Trouble?" Sanji asked breezily.

Brown eyes narrowed. "I'll show you trouble--" he growled. A moment later, Sanji was flat on his back, and his slacks were already halfway opened, a hand rubbing firmly against him.

"Oi, mari--" Sanji started before he saw Zoro finish unzipping, grab his slacks, and give a good, solid yank. Thankfully, he'd actually put on some underwear that morning, so it wasn't as uncomfortable as it could've been.

"Oi--" the cook snapped this time, but now Zoro was fishing around under the hem of his orange pinstriped shirt for the waistband of his underwear, and that was much better. Sanji groaned a little when he was finally freed.

And then, Zoro's mouth was on him without Sanji having fully processed what exactly the shitty swordsman was actually doing.

Sanji has traveled for quite a while -- he was practically raised on the sea -- so there are a number of things that he's done. One of them, however, hasn't been to get a blowjob. The few ladies he's actually had... intimate relations with were never exactly interested, and the man -- it was one, they had both been drunk, it had been years ago -- had other things on his mind, so while he had been trained in the art of love and worshiping ladies as they were meant to be worshiped, he'd somehow missed out on this simple act.

Zoro apparently hadn't, the way his tongue was moving, ever so slowly, around him.

It was beautiful torture, the way the swordsman's tongue moved. He certainly knew what he was doing, Sanji could tell that just by the way he was moving, the way his breathing was calm and steady. That crazy Santoryuu style of fighting had probably done wonders for training his jaw to stay open at just the right width.

Sanji moaned, his eyes closing when he felt Zoro's mouth open, the breath against the wet flesh. "Stop teasing..." he murmured, reaching down blindly and encountering a head of mossy green hair.

There was a snort, and a heavy, muscled arm landed right on top of his hips. "If you shove my face down, I'm killing you," came the stern warning. "And don't worry about warning me."

Warning...? Sanji's brain had already started fracturing when he didn't just hear the words, but he felt them around his erection. Any thought about giving the marimo some kind of warning in the middle of Zoro licking, sucking, and -- oh, that felt niiice -- had never really come up.

Instead, the cook just sort of nodded a little and pet the green hair under his fingers. Zoro gave a satisfied little hum that had Sanji's eyes rolling back into his head, and in an embarrassingly short amount of time, thunder was roaring through Sanji's ears, his heart was pounding, and he might or might not have groaned very loudly while instinctively thrusting upwards.

After an eternity passed, that mouth -- that divine mouth that should do that again sometime, but maybe not right this second -- was pulling back, licking the last traces of Sanji's orgasm, and surprisingly enough, dropping a kiss just below Sanji's navel. Sanji heard the swordsman mutter something, but it was a soft, furry sort of sound, not really anything with words that Sanji could understand at the moment.

Brown eyes looked up at him for a long moment, and then Zoro smirked.

"You didn't hear what I said, did you," he asked, though the tone of his voice made it more like a statement.

Sanji grunted. "Don't tell me, or I'll have to kick you, and I don't want to move for the next few hours."

Zoro rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered. He dropped a kiss on Sanji's leg before gingerly getting up off the floor and standing. He tucked himself back into his pants carefully before grabbing his shirt off the floor and shrugging it on. "You gonna be okay until the pollen wears off?"

Sanji hummed, nodding dreamily. It was nice to have an orgasm that he hadn't had to be alone for. "Should be. You?"

Zoro nodded back. "I'll be in the crow's nest." He paused for a moment, and then shook his head, leaving the storage room. "Later."

Sanji hummed again, watching him go and wondering if maybe they could try that again without the shitty pollen.

END