Hooked

Yo! Last chapturrrrr.........hope you guys enjoyed it, I sure as hell didn't ^^

GOD DAMNIT SANJI!!! WHIE ARE YOU SUCH A HO-BAG?!?!?!

Thanx guys! Your reviews made me tingle like christmas spent with a box of cheap chocolate and a vibrator. The best kind of festive spirit if you ask me.

------

"Hey..." Zoro grumbled, throwing his gym bag to the corner in favour of wrapping both arms around a distracted Sanji's waist, burying his face in the back of his neck, blond hair tickling his nose gently. Sanji jumped a little, putting his spoon down in the bowl he was mixing something in and pressed back into Zoro's hold.

"Don't sneak up like that, asshole..." he mumbled, reaching around to stroke green hair softly before turning around fully and stroking up Zoro's arms to lock both hands behind his neck. "How was it?" he asked quietly, leaning his forehead to Zoro's, smirking when his lover groaned and closed his eyes.

"Sucked. Twelve year olds don't know shit about down-swings or cross blocking..." he muttered in frustration, tightening his grip and sighing as he looked back up into blue eyes which hadn't been hidden or anything but clear since that night all those months ago when they'd woken up together in Sanji's old, tiny house. Zoro had driven him to Nami's place at his request, and he'd asked to be let go in order to try his hand at cooking professionally; something he'd always wanted to do, but had given up on when his father had died in the main kitchen of his restaurant. She had agreed, for a fee. And since his departure he'd been paying her a 'betrayal charge' every month with his earnings from the restaurant he'd managed to work his way up to sous-chef in.

"They're little white kids who've probably only ever seen one samurai movie between them. You can't expect them to pick it up straight away," Sanji said easily, fingers curling the hair at the nape of Zoro's neck. Zoro nodded slightly before remembering he hadn't kissed Sanji hello yet, and leaned in to attack his mouth suddenly, Sanji flailing only momentarily before grabbing his hair and returning it with full force.

Zoro growled lowly, pushing Sanji back against the kitchen counter, dragging his hips slowly across Sanji's and tugging at the loose fabric of the blond's t-shirt, fingers curling around the edge to slip up and feel at the soft pale skin of his back. His eyes fell closed against the low kitchen light, lips sliding downwards to nip at Sanji's jawline, hands moving upward as he stroked the smooth, pale skin. He felt Sanji's hands slip down to sneak under the collar of his t-shirt, gripping hard, tense muscle. "Hn...go lie down," he muttered in Zoro's ear quietly, reaching behind him to turn the stove off, Zoro nodding and tugging off his shirt as he went, throwing it to land on the couch in the living room as he passed.

They had been living together now for a month and a half, because while Sanji was probably the cleanest person to ever step foot in Zoro's old flat with Ace and Paulie, Ace had eventually gotten sick of finding them both in compromising positions all over the house and had kicked them out witht the words "go get your own fucking house and screw all over that!" And so they did. It wasn't big, but certainly nothing as small as Sanji's old place. Small enough to work up a little clutter, and big enough to not make it seem cramped. Sanji turned out to be not as pristine as Zoro had thought, and sometimes Zoro found himself picking up his own socks from under the couch, and once he'd done the dishes because there were too many dirty ones. Which was strange. Zoro's excuse for not doing the washing up used to be that he'd buy new ones.

He entered the bedroom, again small, but warm, tidy enough, and their bed was probably the comfiest thing Zoro had ever slept on. He groaned in appreciation as he flopped forward and the mattress swallowed him up, comforting and so easy to just pass out on. But if his instincts were correct, and his hearing wasn't failing him, he knew Sanji was on his way in, and sleep just became the least important thing for Zoro right then. He glanced up from his position face down on the bed, watching Sanji lazily kick the door shut behind him as he carried a small bowl, and shifted his arms up to rest his head on them.

Sanji hadn't changed much since he'd left Nami's place. He was still snarky, quick-witted and quick-tempered, still sexy as hell, still drove Zoro insane in both good and bad ways. He always knew exactly what to do or say to wrap Zoro around his finger, and how to unravel him, how to over-power him so subtly it didn't even seem possible.

Neither said anything as Sanji shuffled over on the bed on his knees, leaning over to put the bowl on the small table beside it, and dipped both hands inside, covering them with whatever kind of oil was there. Then moved over to straddle Zoro's thighs, leaning down and spreading the oil over his skin, digging his fingers into stressed muscle, working out the tense knots, easing all the strain free, relaxing Zoro more than he'd ever felt.

"Uh...um...what...what'd you do...today, then...?" he asked, mumbling into his arm as Sanji's hands kept on playing their sinfully sweet melody across his back, working him loose, untangling him from himself, drawing him out and into the warm air between them. He felt the blond sigh a little, hands moving lower to stroke firmly at his spine.

"Nothing much. Didn't go in to work, but had a few calls from that idiot new guy, asking what things are meant to taste and look like. Oh, and I saw an ad for restaurant space that's not too expensive so I might look into it," he explained softly, fingers now rubbing in little circles at the small of Zoro's back. He grunted, pausing a moment before rolling over, throwing Sanji backwards onto the bed and immediately creeping across to loom over him, burying his face in blond hair, arms wrapping around Sanji as he fought himself not to just fall asleep right there.

"That's good..." he murmured, holding on a little tighter as Sanji began to squirm and attempt to push him back.

"Marimo...lemmie go..." he said loudly, voice muffled by Zoro's chest. "I'm serious, asshole, leggo!" he tried again, though Zoro only ignored it and kept his hold close and firm around Sanji as the blond squirmed, and eventually stilled, arms coming up and over Zoro's to wrap around his neck, a soft, defeated sigh tickling Sanji's hair across Zoro's nose. He breathed in slowly, deeply, taking in Sanji's scent and the aromatic flavour of the oil still on his hands. He felt Sanji move closer, legs twisting to wrap around Zoro's own, tieing them together, and his hands stroked down to cup Zoro's face, the potent scent of the oil sliding easily over his skin, drowning him in smell and touch, making him dizzy, drunk, and his eyes cracked open slightly to watch Sanji watching him.

Clear blue washed over him like lazy afternoon sunlight, Sanji's faint smile bringing a matching one to his own lips, and he pushed forward slightly to catch Sanji with a soft kiss that fitted like a puzzle piece. And as Sanji kissed back with minimal force, but positive longevity, Zoro's heart pulsed a little. With pride, of having Sanji finally here with him, with happiness, for the same thing, and with love, because only that could have driven him to chasing Sanji for so long. He'd fallen in love with Sanji years ago, when they didn't even know each other. And he'd wandered around for so long in the false little world where Sanji was his and he was Sanji's, and everything was perfect and real, like a dream. And now it was. It was perfect, and real, and felt like a dream when a small, muffled gasp sounded through Sanji's lips into his own.

He rolled over onto his back, holding onto Sanji's sides to pull him on top, ignoring the slight kick he recieved as the blond tried to settle himself, and the kiss continued, slow, lazy, real, and as passionate as Sanji was.

He wasn't afraid to let people know about his past. Perhaps he wasn't proud of the choices he'd made several years before, but not many people were anyway, and he always found a chance to joke about his time spent under Nami's care. Like the time he'd first met Ace, Luffy, Usopp and Paulie for the first time. When asked about how he and Zoro had met, once a cigarette had been sparked and an arm was wrapped firmly around Zoro's waist, he'd responded with a casual "Well, he couldn't find anyone else to fuck him, so I graciously agreed for a nominal fee."

The oil on his hands slid down to Zoro's bare chest, spreading over his scar, tingling in breezy trails over his skin, and Zoro's hands gripped Sanji's hips, fingers digging in, kneading the slim flesh over sharp bone, letting out a soft sigh as Sanji nibbled his lower lip gently, eyes cracking open to watch soft, crystalised blue as they swept over his face. Then Sanji sat up, still looking down at him with free, darkened eyes, and the oiled hands came up to hitch his loose top up his chest and over his head, tossing it carelessly over to some forgotten corner of the room they finally shared, and he leaned down again, pressing them both together, hips raised high in the air as he slid himself over Zoro's skin, soft kisses and stroked moving upwards until their lips met again. And Zoro's hands found the silk skin at Sanji's back, and slid down to hook his fingers in the waistband of Sanji's pants, feeling out the top of his ass at the curve.

A soft hum of appreciation pressed against his lips, Sanji's hips pushing upward further into his hands as he smirked into Zoro's kiss, hands pressing Zoro's chest softly, fingertips kissing the edge of his scar so faintly Zoro almost didn't feel it.

Sanji had asked about the scar as soon as he'd seen it. In all the time they had known each other, he'd never seen Zoro topless until the first time they'd made love, instead of desperate back-alley sex, or silencing each other in dirty bathrooms. Zoro had explained that he'd gotten it from a sparring session with his once idol. After Mihawk had put Zoro in hospital, with only a small word of thanks, Zoro's opinion of the man had plummeted from near worship to complete competition. Sanji had only stared blankly at the scar as Zoro moved and breathed, then leaned forward and kissed it gently in greeting. Zoro's scar had belonged to Sanji since that day.

Sanji leaned down then, trailing his tongue down over the rough edge of scar tissue, back angled sharply to let his hips meet Zoro's hands, eyes closed to let his sense of touch and taste ignite, hands splayed on Zoro's shoulders, slipping down to feel out his over worked arms, easing the tension in strained muscle with each touch.

In some respects, Sanji was the perfect lover, Zoro absently supposed before his mind shut down. He was seductive, sensual, knew exactly how to tease, to tame and control when he wanted. Then again, he had no problem with handing all power over to Zoro and to simply do whatever was asked of him. He was intense as well. Gave himself over to Zoro each and every time, and made sure the world knew it. Because he was his own person now, thanks to Zoro, and he was allowed to give himself to who he pleased.

His eyes opened a little, a flash of blue glancing up at Zoro from his chest, clear, clouded at the same time, dark, wanting, genuine, free, Sanji. And Zoro could only stare as he leaned up, planting a soft kiss to Zoro's lower lip before shuffling back and standing. They watched each other for a moment or two before Sanji moved, sliding his hands down and toying lightly with the buttons on his own jeans, keeping his eyes on Zoro the whole time, the faintest of smirks playing on his lips as Zoro only stared at his hands, closely observing every twitch and stroke of a finger across cold, circular metal or rough denim.

It seemed to take forever for the jeans to meet the floor, and Sanji crawled back over to loom over him again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Zoro's lips, eyes falling fully closed when Zoro brought his hand up to run across the newly exposed skin of the back of Sanji's thigh. And he purred, rolling his back into an arc as Zoro's hand travelled upwards, over the flesh of his ass, gripping gently before stroking the skin of his lower back, keeping his eyes on Sanji's face as he rose his head, breathing heavily as Zoro merely touched him, and Zoro knew Sanji was probably over-acting his response to turn him on further, though he didn't mind. It was what whores did; any kind of over-enthusiasm to get to the clients, moaning, crying, controlled desperation. It was all an act when it came to it. And Zoro didn't mind because it worked. And anytime a hidden doubt would surface, he would remember Sanji's words to him. "You let me feel."

So he let Sanji kiss and suck and lick his way down his body, claiming his scar over and over again with loving touches and cooling gasps, taming the hot trails he left over marred skin. By the time Sanji made it to Zoro's constrained erection, inhibited by his training pants still, he was dizzy. Off balance and weak, and Sanji was everywhere, like always.

Sanji nosed softly at his hip bone as he curled his fingers in the waistband of Zoro's pants, mouth moving lower as they were removed, licking carefully along his erection, a hot blush spreading across his cheeks as he sucked around the head and looked up, catching Zoro's eye, holding their gazes together as he accepted another inch slowly inside, hand clasped loosely around the base. Zoro took a deep, slow breath and watched Sanji's tongue roll over the head slowly, fingers stroking just hard enough to be barely felt. And Zoro couldn't help it, he buried his fingers in Sanji's hair, vision hazing as though a sheet of steamed-up glass had been slid infront of his eyes, and he let out a low groan, watching Sanji's eyes fall to close.

Zoro pulled golden strands after a while, Sanji sitting up just as slowly as he'd done anything that day. He crawled back up, setting light kisses to Zoro's skin as he moved, taking Zoro's bottom lip between his teeth, smiling lazily at Zoro's glassy eyes. Zoro moved his hands back up to rest on Sanji's bare hips, feeling near-perfect skin he was as comfortable with as his own.

"Love you..." Sanji whispered against his cheek, licking his way down to his jaw line, and lowering his hips as one hand guided Zoro into him.

And each sensation was like the first. Zoro's heart beat as if he were nervous, feeling familiar already, wishing Sanji would fall in love with him like he already had so suddenly. But he was. It was familiar, Sanji was in love with him, and they did have sex in the bed they shared, in the house they shared, where Sanji cooked, and his mac and cheese was fucking spectacular, and they cleaned when things got too dirty, and Sanji gave him massages after a hard day, and they did make love at three in the morning in the dim television light, and everything was everything and nothing had changed.

And he cupped Sanji's ass as he rose and fell faster on top of him, hands buried in his own golden hair, keening out as Zoro added his own push into him. And Sanji's orgasm ran through them both, and Zoro's did the same. They were finally together, everything was the same and everything was different. Different because it was really real this time around, and Zoro's heart nearly exploded when he remembered that Sanji really was here with him.

Sanji collapsed beside him, breathing heavily, smiling like a drunken child, and threw an arm over Zoro's chest, curling closer and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Zoro smiled sleepily, turning his head to look back at Sanji, his Sanji, the one he loved, longed, lived with and for.

"Love you too..."