Under Starry Skies

It had happened so suddenly, crossing into Grand Line after the weeks of waiting and endless sailing. As the crew flew down the waterway of Reverse Mountain into the unknown, legendary sea, it was as though each of their lives, in their own way, had only led up to this moment. Whatever they had gone through separately in the past, the members of the Mugiwara Kaizokudan were now starting the next chapter of their lives together. And in this fashion, together, they partied.

Zoro had had the foresight to stash a large cask of high-quality rum on board before the ship left Loguetown. Sanji went to town and prepared platter after platter of meats, fruits and delicacies. Nami wove chains of fabrics and strewed them about the deck as Usopp whipped out his hidden pyrotechnics stash and set them off from the crow’s nest. Luffy just laughed and ate and laughed. As the sun set on their first night in Grand Line, the crew drank and danced and sang like the true sailors they had become.

Usopp smiled as he stood against the railing, mug in hand, watching Nami boast about her drinking prowess. It was true, she was really pounding them back, beating Zoro almost two-to-one. And to think, at first glance he had thought her such an innocent girl! Actually, none of his first impressions of his crewmates had been on the money. Usopp toyed with his book of matches as he glanced around the deck. He stopped to regard the tall, blond chef slipping another plate of roast mutton under the captain’s nose. Well, Sanji hadn’t really surprised him all that much – he had taken him for a stylish, suave ladies’ man, and so far Sanji had lived up to that assessment. He was the type of guy Usopp never dreamed of becoming – always saying just the right thing, keeping up appearances, cool in every situation. But that was okay. He couldn’t tell a story to save his life.

Luffy hoovered up the last scrap of meat from the platter in front of him and rolled back, exhaling deeply. He knew Sanji had been hoarding those mutton chops somewhere on the ship, keeping them separate from the daily meals just for this special occasion, and despite weeks of snooping to locate them he’d never come across the cook’s special hiding place. Sanji’s foot had come across his face a few times when he’d been spied sneaking around on the hunt for the tasty morsels. Now, though, he was glad they’d remained hidden; this private festival wouldn’t have been the same without the feast as the centerpiece. He stared up at the clear sky above Grand Line, thinking in amazement that he was here; he was finally on his way. He never thought it would take so little time. And with such a great bunch with him – man, he was lucky! Anyone who’d survived being hit with lightning would have to be. His eyes closed as his body started to work on the huge digesting task ahead of it for the next day.

Zoro scowled. Nami was four drinks ahead of him and he wasn’t gaining any ground. He splashed back the last of his rum as Nami’s mug hit the boards of the deck. Her light laughter rang like a siren through his ears. “A bit slow, eh, swordsman?” she mocked. “How ‘bout another round, or are you ready for the sandman again?” Sanji, crouched immediately on her far side, grinned. “Oh, Nami, you are such a cruel one. How I love it.” Could he be more of a lapdog? Zoro rolled his eyes and placed his mug under the tap. Any man who fawned over a woman to that extent gave her too much power over him; he lost his dignity. It was one thing to lose to a female who happened to be a better fighter, but to give it up voluntarily… nope, Zoro wasn’t going that route. “Give it up, woman, I’m taking you down,” he growled as he raised his mug to his mouth. Nami just tittered.

If Zoro only knew just how drunk I really am, Nami thought. He’s closer to drinking me under than I would’ve believed. Still, she had appearances to keep up. She pushed Zoro’s meaty shoulder out of her way and reached for the keg. Immediately Sanji was at her side. “Let me get that for you, Nami-san,” he purred, always at the ready. Normally she would feel a touch annoyed at his constant presence and doting demeanor, but seeing as she was barely able to steady herself against the side of the ship, much less pour her own draught, she just thanked him quickly. Never would she have thought that she’d find herself in the company of such different, and yet tightly-knit, people on such a far-reaching journey. And they’re all boys, no less. Already she thought of them as her friends, standing by her even as she tried to push them away. No one had ever done that for her before, except Bellemer and Nojiko… her family. Her eyes misted up as she thought of the two strong women who helped her become who she was. She looked across the deck at Luffy’s slumbering, distended form, and at Usopp, who was touching a bottle rocket fuse with a lit match. She squinted at Zoro and felt Sanji’s considerable body heat radiate next to her. These were her family as well, now. She could trust them.

She accepted the drink Sanji handed her and watched blearily as he poured one for himself. The boat swayed and lurched under her as she put the rum to her lips. She sloppily pulled at the alcohol, not wanting Zoro to think he had a snowball’s chance in hell of catching up to her. That egotist! He may act all tough all the time, but when it came to drinking, any common thief could put him under the table. The rum felt like a trail of fire as it ran down her throat. She looked up and thought how deep and black the sky looked all of a sudden, now that the clouds had cleared… in fact, there were no stars anymore, just blackness…

Nami’s mug clattered to the boards of the deck. Zoro looked over the rim of his mug at the limp body next to him on the ground. Even though she had passed out, Nami had once again finished first. Damn her. Ah well, no point in continuing now that he’d been properly shown up; his head felt full of booze and his vision swam. He closed his eyes and passed a hand over his forehead as the insipid sound of Sanji’s chuckle rang in his ears. “She got you good, eh Zoro?” Sanji asked. He poured back the last of his own drink and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt, which was an obnoxious orange spotted print. Only Sanji could get away with wearing that disco shit.

Zoro turned his head and growled. “Well, at least she’s in no condition to rub it in.”

Sanji sighed. “If only I could drink like her. I’ll admit it; I’m a lightweight. I go for quality, not quantity. Hell, I’d rather have one sip of a rare vintage than a whole case of swill.” As if on cue, an empty wine bottle rolled past his shoe and came to a halt at the railing.

“Look at all these empty bottles.” Sanji remarked appreciatively. He looked across the deck at Usopp. “Speaking of which, when do you think the longnose over there’s gonna blow his hand off with those rockets?”

As if on cue, three bright trails of light shot up from the bow of the ship and exploded into the sky in big clouds of color. Almost as an afterthought, a fourth explosion sounded directly nearby. Zoro and Sanji turned from the fireworks overhead to see Usopp sprawled out on the deck, his face covered in gunpowder from the misfired rocket. Sanji jumped up, wobbled a bit, then stumbled over to Usopp’s supine form. “Hey, nagappana. Hey. Wakey-wakey.” He kicked at the charred body, then gathered Usopp up under the arms and dragged him below deck. He emerged minutes later, wiping soot from his long fingers. “I’m amazed that guy is still alive.” Sanji laughed, then quickly grabbed at the railing to keep from falling over. “See what I mean? I’m trashed already and I’ve had half as much as you. And a third as much as Na-chan.”

He sank slowly to the deck and closed his eyes. “Ah, Na-chan, Na-chan, Na-chan. How lovely you are.” He turned to gaze upon the snoring redhead just inches away.

“You know she’d kick your ass if she ever heard you call her that,” Zoro muttered.

“Of course. But she can’t hear anything right now, I’ll bet.” Sanji reached up and moved a lock of hair from Nami’s forehead. “I wonder if she can feel anything either. What an angel.” His fingers trailed over the soft skin of Nami’s cheek.

“An angel in devil’s clothes,” Zoro sneered. He watched with furred brows as Sanji dragged his fingertips across the girl’s lips, her eyebrows, down her neck. It was almost hypnotizing, watching the slow, stolen caress. Sanji’s face was blank, looking off into space as his hand traced the contour of Nami’s collarbones. Then Zoro’s eyes flew open in surprise as Sanji’s hand dipped into the open collar of Nami’s shirt and pressed against the swell of breast within.

“What are you doing?!?” Zoro’s voice was little more than a hiss of air.

Sanji didn’t answer. His eyes were closed, and as he kneaded Nami’s right breast, his head dipped lower and lower against the joint of her neck and shoulder. He was inhaling deeply, as if breathing in the freshest perfume. His blond hair swept down over his face and only his angular jawbone was visible over Nami’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Zoro gave his arm a shove, not hard enough to disrupt Nami, but enough to cause Sanji’s half-lidded eye to come back into view. “What the hell?!?”

Sanji grinned. His canines shined whitely in the dimness of the sea’s florescence. “Come on, Zoro, she’s never gonna know. When will I ever get another chance?”

Zoro huffed and looked around quickly for backup. Luffy was snoring loudly on the other side of the ship and Usopp was sequestered below in the cabin. Nami’s head rolled back against the wooden railing. He was on his own. Zoro firmly grabbed Sanji’s wrist and pulled his arm out from Nami’s top.

“It’s just wrong, that’s why. Kuso-cook!” He tossed Sanji’s arm back at him like something repulsive. “You should be ashamed.”

Sanji’s smile never left his face. “You should try it, bushido. I bet you’ve never felt up a girl before. Here’s your opportunity.”

Zoro’s face turned beet red. How did he know? Sure, there was that one time years ago when he fought Kuina – his hand accidentally grabbed… but that was right before… oh, he couldn’t think about that right now! He had to address this, it was wrong! “Don’t change the subject! You just can’t do that to an unwilling girl.”

“And who’s to say she’s unwilling, swordsman? You don’t think girls get lonely too during all those long nights at sea?” Sanji leaned back and folded his arms. “I’ve seen her watch you fight. She puts up quite the front, but once you cut through that defensive facade, I bet you’d find someone quite willing.”

“Nami? Hah! She can’t stand me, and I can’t stand her either.” Zoro folded his own muscular arms and pouted.

“Then why are you so quick to jump to her defense?” Sanji was like a cat, curled, smirking.

Zoro thought about it. It was true; he’d lost no love for Nami. She had stepped on his head. She’d stolen their boat. He hadn’t really trusted her since the day she’d decided to travel with them. But underneath it all, she had come through. It was she who helped nurse his friend Yosakk back to health when they’d found him deathly sick with scurvy. And then, of course, that time she extinguished the fuse of the clown-pirate Buggy’s cannon aimed right at Luffy – with her bare hands, no less! He thought of her brandishing her staff, eyes sparkling, her long legs disappearing into her short porthole skirt… wait!!! He didn’t know where that thought came from, and he sure as hell didn’t like it. He brought up a familiar, timeworn image into his mind’s eye – the short black hair and slender figure of a barely-teenaged girl, the one he felt his deepest loyalties to. But the serious look on the girl’s face faded to a mocking giggle, the black hair overshadowed with an orange flip…

Zoro opened his eyes and looked over at Nami. Her lips were parted as she breathed lightly through them. A trail of smoke rose behind her as Sanji lit up. Her shirt, a patchwork tank top, was pulled open where Sanji had intruded and a tiny corner of black lace showed through like a secret. Zoro’s breaths grew shallow. Sure, he hated this girl. But how could he feel so strongly about her and still… want to touch her… wonder how her skin felt?…

He reached a trembling hand up and placed it against her neck. She was warm, immensely warm. Her pulse beat against his palm. Behind her, Sanji’s eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled upward slightly. Zoro didn’t notice. All his awareness was in his hand, the surface where his skin met hers – the first time he had ever touched a woman there, where the skin was so thin and soft, like silk. He ran it back and forth over her neck and shoulder, afraid to move to another part. But Nami didn’t stir. She was out cold, her body slumped heavily against the thick boards. Zoro closed his eyes and he was right there, immediate, out-of-body, feeling as though the rest of the world had fallen away. All was silent except the blood coursing through his ears, and the slight shuffle of his hand against Nami.

Almost as if guided by a tiny devil-Sanji on his shoulder, his hand slipped lower and lower across Nami’s chest, until it landed at the top of her bra. The lace felt scratchy against his knuckles and he bit his lip, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tear the fabric from her body. Yet his hand stayed still, gentle, stroking over and then inside the delicate lace. It seemed impossible that her skin could have gotten any softer, yet here it was like buttermilk. Zoro gasped as he came into contact with a nipple and felt it harden against his fingertip. He flattened his palm over the whole breast, weighty like a warm water balloon, and let his shaky, ragged breaths release into huge gulps of air as he kneaded her flesh like dough. His erection was like a dart of iron against his leg, pulling fiercely at his black pants. He had never been so hard.

Of course this was wrong, it was so horribly wrong… but that was why he couldn’t stop, it was as though some threshold had been crossed and he was being swept right along. It just felt so fucking amazing… if he had known, perhaps, before, how wonderful girls felt – that they weren’t annoying distractions, that they were warm and soft and smelled like – he breathed – like earth and fire and the ocean and flowers, like a field… oh, maybe if he hadn’t drank so much he’d have the power to pull his hand away, but now he was trapped in his actions, his waking mind feebly protesting as his body ran free under its own desire. Nami shifted and a smile appeared on her face; her chest rocked up under his hand and his heart caught in his throat. Was she… enjoying this? Even in her sleep, was she sharing some of the feelings Zoro was powerless to stem?

He closed his eyes and imagined a perfect world, where he felt like this all day, every day, every night. Where Nami wasn’t so ruthless and mocking; where this was natural and free and constant, constant; every minute full of skin and hair and pulses racing. And at that moment, like an answer to his thoughts, he felt a hand reach up and stroke his hair, curling around the back of his head and caressing the side of his neck. The fingers circled his ear and toyed with the three dangling gold earrings. “Ahh.. Nami… I’m sorry…” he whispered, “but I knew you would like it… I hoped…”

He opened his eyes and looked up at the girl. She was still sleeping, her arms at her sides. Zoro whirled his head around. The hand against his neck was Sanji’s, and he was staring deeply into his face with a fixed expression, the same one he had looked upon Nami with just minutes before.

Zoro froze, staring at Sanji with shock and surprise. His jaw dropped. Sanji slowly lowered his hand from Zoro’s neck as Zoro pulled his own out of the girl’s underthings. They stared at each other, motionless.

“You… you’re…” Zoro stammered.

Sanji dragged heavily on his cigarette, smiling.

Zoro sat back, his eyes never leaving Sanji’s.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act so shocked.” Sanji’s nonchalance was daunting. “You mean you’ve never done that either? Don’t tell me the thought never crossed your mind.”

“But… but you’re always so girl-crazy!” Zoro’s mind reeled. “You’re always chasing women! How can you be…?”

Sanji laughed. “Oh, I do love the ladies, don’t get me wrong. Women… are like…” he kissed his fingertips in a big swooping gesture. “There’s nothing like them. But men… men are their own creatures. Something else entirely.” His aspect suddenly became serious. “I know what I like… I like to feel good. And I’m certain I’d know how to make you feel good. Can’t you put aside the tough-guy act for a minute and go with how you feel?”

He raised his hand and moved his thumb across Zoro’s hanging lower lip, then drew it underneath his chin to close his still-gaping mouth. Zoro blinked twice as Sanji stroked his cheekbone with that white, slender hand. He was shuddering once again; he felt like a child. Sanji’s smoke wrapped around them like a python.

As the blond man’s hand slid a slow trail down Zoro’s chest, he struggled with a thousand thoughts all pushing into his mind at once. Years ago, walking unannounced into an inn’s bedroom he was sharing with Yosakk and Johnny, he was shocked to see the two men fly apart from an embrace. Though it had taken an initial period of adjustment, Zoro had never thought less of them for sharing a bed, because he knew they shared it with women on occasion as well. But they had never approached him, never extended their affection to him, through gesture or innuendo – they’d kept it discreetly to themselves. He had just never considered being with another man. Always so swept up in the quest to be the best swordfighter, to find more and more challenging enemies, he’d never slowed down and considered doing something just for pleasure…

And Sanji? His greatest rival on the ship? He felt an immense anger well up at the thought of the slim, tall cook, and then started in surprise as he realized that his anger was accompanied with... desire. There was no other word. Sanji had style; he was slick. And, more than all that, he was a beautiful man. Zoro shook his head slightly as he realized that yes, all along, he had seen Sanji as attractive. That fact scared the crap out of him, but it was undeniable. His perfectly-fitted clothes (that Zoro was always finding strewn across their cabin’s floor); his gold chains and rings (so unnecessary!); his shiny blond hair (that Zoro had to pull out of the shower drain every morning)… his almost feminine features… his narrow waist… oh no.

Sanji’s face was shadowed in the half-light of the lantern. Zoro turned to face him fully, and in one graceful move Sanji lifted the cigarette from his lips and leaned in, pressing his soft mouth against Zoro’s. His hand came up and curled onto Zoro’s firm shoulder. Sanji’s tongue, clean and sweet, forced Zoro’s helpless jaw open and touched the center of his own tongue with a hot, light pressure. The ocean rolled around the two boys as Zoro’s shaking hand reached through Sanji’s fine gold hair and rested at the back of his head. Small noises came from the slender man’s throat as Zoro’s tongue took up the other half of the kiss. Their jaws worked back and forth as though they were sucking on the most succulent berries.

Without breaking the kiss, Sanji tossed his cigarette over the side with a round sweeping motion. He then slid his fingers down Zoro’s bare muscular arm to his hand, which was held purposelessly in the air over Nami’s chest, rising and falling in time with her breathing. He guided Zoro’s palm back to Nami’s shirt, running it over her chest and down her belly, finally coming to rest on her left breast. Sanji’s fingers, over Zoro’s, closed over the malleable flesh, like a parent teaching a child how to pet a cat. Their mouths never disconnected; their eyes never opened. Zoro felt Sanji’s lashes brush his cheek; the sudden coolness as Sanji’s hand left his own to fondle the other breast at its side. Never in a thousand years, even after all their adventures on the sea so far, did Zoro ever expect to be in this situation. Now that he was here, he never wanted to be anywhere else.

The thick pink fog of lust around the two grew heavier and heavier, until, with a snap, it was broken.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!?” Nami yelled.