Luffy was bored.
Bored…. Bored…. Bored….
Nami and Robin were at the pool, Chopper and Sanji gone shopping. Zoro was just… out. And… Usopp…
Luffy shook his head violently, immediately regretting it because it hurt quite a lot. Turning over onto his back the Strawhat Captain watches the ceiling fan’s blades turn around and around and around – just fast enough to move the air, but slow enough to look at without becoming too horribly dizzy. Chopper had wrapped him in so many bandages that he could hardly move, and they itched! Is this how Zoro feels all the time?! Luffy wonders, wriggling his back into the mattress – though it hardly helps.
It had been a nice reprieve when his Jiichan had shown up with Colby and Hippo… but they hadn’t stayed long, and now he was back to brooding about what was going to happen next. Back to being sad that Usopp wouldn’t be sailing on his ship with them anymore. Maybe Sogeking would join his crew? Luffy had thought about asking the Sniper King to be one of his nakama, but the man had gone missing soon after the final battle on that judiciary island of Ennis Lobby. The Captain hadn’t seen him at all since.
A grumble escapes Luffy’s throat, kicking his feet and crossing his arms over his chest – which hurts, so he throws his palms down on the mattress instead.
“This suuucks!” Luffy whines.
Luffy looks up… or rather, he bends his neck backwards to peer at who is essentially behind him (except for the fact that he is lying down). “Zoro!”
The older pirate closes the door to their rooms, the suite being provided for them by the Galley-La president and mayor of Water Seven. “How are you feeling?” he asks, crossing the room and pulling his katana free from the sash securing them to his hip.
Luffy watches his swordsman carefully place each blade down on the table next to the kitchenette. Sees Zoro’s fingers twitch as they lay Yubashiri next to his fellows.
“Is he... dead?” Luffy asks.
Zoro turns to his captain. Two wide round brown eyes staring at the Katana in his black scabbard. He’s glad of Luffy’s tone, because he can’t take any jokes right now… not even from Luffy. “Yea.” He sighs. “Yubashiri’s… gone.”
Luffy struggles to move and sit up, wanting to talk to Zoro properly, but he’s not able to bend at the waist because of the splints their doctor had secured to his lower back. Seeing his struggle, the swordsman passes his hands once more over Yubashiri’s scabbard before going to his Sencho and sitting down on the mattress next to him.
Luffy’s quiet; gone back to staring at the slow-moving ceiling fan. “Ne, Zoro?”
“We… we did win, didn’t we?”
Zoro’s stomach clenches tight, a familiar feeling – at least lately – tightness punctuated by varying degrees of pain and battle-thrill thrown in along the way. He understood what Luffy was saying. He even understood why he would ask… because it hardly felt like one of their usual victories. He turned, digging both roughened palms into the mattress and hovering over his captain.
Luffy’s wounds had been great. Greater – Chopper had said – than anything he had seen. For the little Zoan doctor to say something like that to the crew, while Luffy had been unconscious for almost three days…
“Oi, I thought Chopper told you to rest?” Zoro scolded.
The rubber man huffed, frowning up at his first mate. “Rude! I have been resting!” and he wriggled his arms that were out to his sides to show he was flat on his back.
“Then what’s this.” The swordsman’s eyes flicked downward, and Luffy had to pull his elbows up under himself to look. There was a pink tinge to the bandaging near his navel. One of his myriad of wounds had opened up again.
“Donno. Didn’t do it.” He shot back defiantly as he lowered himself back down onto his back, pouting.
“Cheh” Zoro pulled his knees in under himself to support his weight so that he could get at the ruined bandages. With Chopper out with the damn cook, he would just change the bandages himself. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how… watching their doctor wrapping him up like some goddamn mummy all the time.
Working slowly, Zoro manages to unwrap Luffy’s midsection; carefully peeling the bloodied gauze away from his belly where several sutures denoted a number of locations where the younger pirate had been impaled or viciously gouged by razor-sharp claws.
“Fzzzsh!” Luffy wriggled as a bit of material caught on one of the larger stiches, which only caused it to rip free and bleed more.
“Hold still, dammit!” Zoro pushed down against his captain’s hips as dark blood oozed from the newly opened tear, rolling down in a trickle across his abdomen.
Biting at his lower lip, the rubber man’s eyes shot resolutely anywhere but at his first mate – but that didn’t fool Zoro. He knew it hurt. Luffy didn’t need to act tough around him.
The hand he had been using to restrain his captain moved, pivoting to trail gently up the younger man’s side to feel out the grooves of each individual rib on his captain’s slender body. “That monster cat,” Zoro murmured, bending low over the exposed stretch of skin that looked so much like a battlefield. “Was he really that strong?”
Luffy’s eyes slipped closed at the feel of his lover’s tongue slowly lapping at the fresh spill of blood on his belly, another set of fingers trailing to the boundary of his denim shorts. “Zoro…”
“He tore you up but-good.” The swordsman’s touch shifted again, making to undo the buttoned catch on his captain’s shorts before slipping them carefully down bandaged legs. “You had us all scarred fucking shitless, there at the end.”
Hot swirling trills gathered and chased themselves behind the captain’s navel as his swordsman’s lips kissed and caressed the half hardness between his legs, encouraging more blood to swell him into solid and standing form.
“What were you thinking?” Zoro breathed, both hands grasping his captain’s legs, pulling his knees up to rest on either side of his green-haired head. “Making us worry like that?”
Luffy drew one bandaged arm across his mouth, muffling strangled sounds that seemed to have been multiplying in his lungs. Deep resonations that he didn’t want covering up those low growling words of his swordsman; words that he uttered with perfect clarity even while applying a line of nips across Luffy’s exposed groin.
The soft chime of Zoro’s piercings accompanied slight satiated sounds. The older man teasing and tempting him, encouraging a dribble of clear salty liquid to drip free from his slitted tip, of which Zoro tasted – his lover’s taste.
“Z-zoro.” Luffy’s voice propelled clear of his teeth as he allowed his arms to fall and his breath to heave. He was still too weakened by his injuries to hold it all in. To a degree, Zoro knew this, and was driven to be deliberately meticulous in his actions because of it.
“I’ve got you.” The swordsman breathed into his captain’s skin, fingers slowly warring into tight muscle, careful to avoid larger lacerations.
Blood was still slipping free from the new tear, and from several other places where the younger man’s rising and falling chest has stretched his rubbery skin. Chopper wouldn’t be too upset, Zoro considered. It had become apparent to the Zoan after Alabasta, how uncooperative Luffy’s body was. Because he was made of rubber, he didn’t receive many injuries, unless he were cut. If his skin were broken, healing was a long and drawn-out process. Stitches often did more harm than good, and because of Luffy’s nervous energy – getting him to ‘rest’ was laughable. The injury he had received from Crocodile, being impaled by a goddamn hook, had taken Luffy six weeks and almost a ton of meat to recover from. What Rob Lucci had done to Luffy…
Zoro closed his lips softly around the bobbing red phallus under his nose, allowing Luffy’s breathy moans and slightly shifting gasps to sink into his ears like gentle waves of the vast sea. The swordsman’s palms supporting shivering legs as he worked methodically on the warm flesh of his lover.
“Ahn Zoro…” was all the further Luffy’s exhaustion would allow him to say, his eyes coming up only for one brief moment to lock his gaze to Zoro’s. To pass understanding that, yes, he wants this from his first mate.
Slicking the tip of his tongue around Luffy’s tip before tracking down and along the throbbing vein underneath, Zoro pulls himself away, dragging his lips with exquisite slowness. The younger man writhes, hips jerking forward in the attempt to plunge himself into his swordsman’s warm mouth once again.
“Relax.” The green haired man croons, leaning up on his elbows as he applies a quiet kiss to his captain’s lips. One hand trailing fingers in the new blood that’s found its way to the surface of Luffy’s skin. The mixture of salt and oils from Zoro’s fingers stings a little as it mixes with the sanguine fluid over each wound, but the captain allows the touch – the sharp burn of it reminding him that he is still alive.
Luffy’s watching Zoro now, and the older man’s jade eyes are locked with his as he bends forward. Another lap of his tongue into the fresh fluid, his lips painted with red, and he returns to his Sencho to share in a bloody kiss.
The crimson smears slide across each pirate’s lips, mixing with saliva to dribble wetly down chin and cheek while Zoro deftly extracts himself from offending clothing and boots; maneuvering himself between the younger man’s legs in one smooth and unbroken motion. Luffy utters another discomforting hiss that breaks their wet kiss.
“Hurts?” Zoro asks.
Luffy’s eyes are already closed from the kiss, and remain closed for the exertion. “A little.”
Zoro strokes lightly across his lover’s left cheek, the pad of his thumb feeling the raised flesh of a scar that so perfectly follows the curvature of his captain’s eye. It was made with a blade, Zoro knows, made a long time ago, and it has grown with Luffy for years. More years than Zoro knows, because he’s never really asked, never really needed to.
After some moments, Luffy is rolling his hips – or trying to – into the naked bend of his swordsman, and Zoro swells with the contact. Reaching down to gather both of them in an obliging fist, he drinks in Luffy’s breathlessness and the slight nodding of his head as his eyes remain closed; dark eyebrows consistently moving while his swordsman’s fingers worry their two cocks together, slipping sweetly in each other’s cursory fluids. Zoro’s free hand rests on Luffy’s belly, careful not to rip free any more silken sutures while gaging his captain’s breathing.
Breaking first, Luffy allows his body to convulse, shivering as warm jets break freely from between the gaps in Zoro’s fist. He makes no sound through his slightly parted lips, his lungs caught unawares as orgasm rips right through him.
“Are you alright, Sencho?” Zoro’s voice wavers like the chiming from his piercings, and Luffy’s eyes slip open to take in the flush of the older man’s face, a redness that trails down his neck and chest, glowing – almost – on his belly and thick muscular flanks.
Luffy smiles, the toothy grin he has for all of his life used, but puts so much more effort into when displaying for his nakama – and especially for his lover. The swordsman returns his captain’s emotion, bending forward for a slow sensual kiss tinged still with the younger man’s blood. When he pulls away his hands slide down, barely making physical contact as they hover across cheek and neck and shoulders and elbows, down over bandaged chest and exposed belly to shivering hips, coming to rest at last on the sweating upper thighs of *his captain. Pulling the younger man forward Zoro aligns himself, slicking Luffy’s own cum along his cock before pushing home.
Sparks and red lights erupt before Luffy’s eyes, still open to watch the heave and delectable motion of his lover as he lifts his captain’s left leg to drape over one shoulder, teeth worrying into the bandaging on his calf. It is a gentle bite, and with great deliberateness in avoiding a deep gash he knows is there from where Luffy had been slung into rebar and torn open. The image of that fucking Zoan Leopard with his goddamn claws in *his Sencho flashes before Zoro’s eyes and he scowls, thrusting hard with a smacking of wet skin to wet skin.
Luffy clutches down into the bedding, throat constricted with a mixture of needing to breathe and the urgency to release moans and other exhalations of pleasure as he’s taken by his swordsman.
The two pirates stare at one another, unable and unwilling to look away from green or brown eyes and scars, flushed cheeks and parted lips lined with flaking dried blood. Luffy licks his own lips, a hand reaching until Zoro meets him to lace their fingers together, grappling for momentum as they move at a quickening pace, racing towards their goal.
It does not take long.
Zoro drags back, nearly falling free before he and Luffy pull and buck together at the same time. Swordsman feeling the press of himself into the tight pulsating heat of his lover, feels himself spill into the younger man, and feels it when Luffy comes again against their bellies.
The sheets around them are specked with red, fresh rivers flowing from stretched and snapped sutures. Zoro allows himself to slide out, gathering himself and standing, pulling on his shirt and trousers and boots.
“I’m going to see if there’s a nurse here.” Zoro says, and he’s ashamed when he hears a high whine mixed into his normal baritone. Internally berating himself, he adjusts the sheets up to cover his naked captain, but before he can turn away Luffy’s grabbed his wrist.
There’s blood on Luffy’s fingers, blood on his face, on the sheets… everywhere.
Zoro’s teeth grind together as a new pooling of deep crimson soaks through the bedding. “I’ll come back.”
Was that an order? The swordsman honestly couldn’t tell. Luffy’s eyes have closed. Facial features and limbs, including the hand holding his wrist goes oddly lax. Part of Zoro doesn’t like that. Blood-loss was no joking matter, not something that just ‘went away on its own’… except in his cases, Zoro thought, but Luffy wasn’t Zoro…
“Stay.” For one last time the breathy demand of his captain drifts on the air, before his fingers drop from the swordsman’s wrist and fall onto the bed at his side. The older man’s heart hammers for several beats before he dives forward, grasping Luffy’s hand to find a pulse.
To his relief, it is strong and steady.
Considering he *should have gone for Chopper or one of the Galley-La doctors – or that he *shouldn’t have overexerted his captain in the first place – Zoro gathered up extra gauze, padding, and bandaging; filled a basin with warm water, and plucked a towel from the clean linens. He spent the next two hours cleaning his and Luffy’s skin clean of red, replacing every ruined suture, and wrapped his captain while the young man slept.
None of the crew noticed a thing after they returned for dinner that evening – except Chopper. There was no hiding the musky tinge lingering in the room from the Zoan’s nose, nor was there a way for Zoro to copy the little doctor’s very-specific bandage weave, but it hardly seemed to matter. Chopper inspected his work, and with a small nod hiding only the most minute disapproval, left Zoro to sit at Luffy’s side.
It would be impossible, at this time, to foresee the events that would come while they recovered together on Water Seven. Usopp, and their new ship, their new nakama (is he a pervert?!), and their subsequent race away from the island under fire from Luffy’s enthusiastic grandfather… but for tonight, as the sun went down, and the swirly cook made them warm soup to sip in comfort, Zoro took a little solace in letting Luffy’s warm body curl up in his lap, safe. For right now, safe, and he would… ‘stay’.