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A Mile in his Shoes

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Of all the stupid, annoying and completely fucking useless Devil Fruit Powers scattered all over the Gran Line and the Four Blues, this one had to be the most stupid, annoying and completely fucking useless one.

And somehow the whole crew had managed to get hit by it. Go figure.

Sanji checked his body, bulky and surprisingly nimble for such a heavy build, looked around taking stock of his nakama's surprised faces and rolled his eyes, his leg already moving to connect with the face of the wannabe pirate who got them in that situation.

The aim was off, the leg attached to his hip heavier and shorter. Well damn! He connected a punch instead, relishing in the fact he didn't need to protect his hands at the moment and his current body had the upper-body strength his legs lacked.

The guy made a satisfying noise when his skull cracked against the plank railing before he went overboard.

So long, asshole, he thought without a shred of pity for the fallen soon-to-be-late annoying pirate, and waited for his body to return to normal.

And waited.

And waited some more.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, his voice lower and raspier, almost a growl. "Why are we not changing back?"

"I imagine Cook-san, the Devil Fruit's Power is still in effect even if the wielder of that power has sadly departed from this world." And wasn't it strange hearing those words--calm, composed and so sensible--coming from Usopp's mouth?

"Is this going to be permanent?" A shrill wail came from Nami-san's lovely mouth, startling all of them, her eyes filling with tears of shock. Chopper, then. A shiver ran down his spine at the mere thought of fawning over the critter if things were indeed permanent.

"I feel Super this way!" Luffy struck a ridiculous pose, the words tumbling from his lips even as his arms stretched impossibly together. Franky laughed with the carefree attitude and delight they were used to see in their Captain.

Sanji could feel a migraine coming.

"No, I don't think it's permanent," Uso--Robin-chan, damn it, said. "The powers will wear off with time; how much time depends on the particular Devil Fruit, but I have not heard of one lasting more than a week."

That was a relief.

"Oi Cook!" Sanji was startled hearing his own voice calling him that way and screwed his eyes shut, hoping to stave off the migraine for a few more minutes, before facing what had to be the weirdest sight he had the misfortune to behold. Of all the people--

He looked at his body standing in front of him and glaring with all his might, the expression on his face alien. He really needed a cigarette. His hands moving on reflex he patted the front of his--fuck! He wasn't wearing his clothes, his body, anymore. So no cigarettes on the front pocket of the shirt he was wearing.

"Oi Cook," the bastard inside his body insisted. "You inside me?"

There was a snicker at knee height and Usopp's face had the most incongruous knowingly amused expression. Off on the side Robin was looking at her body with a mixture of shock and curiosity, her hands raising to her breasts and pausing before reaching for them, shaking. Sanji couldn't blame the idiot, he would have tried the same were their positions reversed, but--

"You do that longnose, and I'll kick your head in as soon as we're back in our bodies," he said, the threat all the more dangerous uttered in that low growly voice. Robin's hands fell limply at her side.

"Thanks, Cook-san," Usopp's face said smiling sweetly. Sanji had to fight the urge to scream. He really needed a smoke to help him calm down and think, he was getting terrible confused.

He lunged at his body--Zoro, he was Zoro right now--and pawed the front of his shirt trying to find the much needed stick.

A slender hand grabbed his wrist with not-so-surprising strength, "Oi, bastard, that's my body you're trying to poison now," he--San--Zoro, fuck it!--said. Sanji stared at him, brow furrowing in annoyance. He didn't care whose body it was, he needed the nicotine.

"Fuck off, Marimo," he said, hands reaching again for the pack of cigarettes.

The hand around his wrist clenched harder.

"That's my body and I don't smoke, dumbass," Zoro repeated slowly, as if he was talking to a five year old or a moron. Sanji bristled.

"I don't give a fuck," he said, the whole surreal and annoying situation getting to him. Everything was that bloody dead pirate's fault, but he couldn't kill him again and he was itching for a fight.

Quick as a snake, the hand released his wrist and grabbed the white sword from the green haramaki at Sanji's waist. Sanji had no time to react before the sword was unsheathed and the blade pressed firmly against the hand opposite the one holding it.

"What the fuck?" he looked at his body doing something he would never dare even imagine and got the point quite quickly; he was no idiot after all. "Right, right, no smoking until we switch back," he conceded reluctantly.

Zoro nodded, satisfied, and sheathed the sword again.

Sanji took a deep breath, his head already throbbing painfully. It was going to be a long week if they didn't change soon.

"Sanjiiii," Luffy said from Franky's body, the pounding at his temples increasing just having to make the mental relation of who was who. "I'm hungryyyy."

Well, some things never changed, apparently. Luffy would always be Luffy, whatever the body he occupied now, and he would always want to eat.

And he was still the cook and had a job to do.

It was good to notice that whatever the circumstances, Sanji was still the best at what he did. His hands might have been bigger and the fingers not quite as deft but the knowledge and the skills were all Sanji. So was the food, as good as ever though it was shocking to see Luffy washing down insane amounts of meat with litres of cola. Franky was doing his best to out-eat their Captain… or was it the other way round? Fuck, they needed to change back before someone lost it completely.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, thank goodness for that; Sanji didn't know how much his poor mind could take before exploding, and wouldn't it just be perfect if he blew something inside the marimo's head and left him with a good deal of brain damage? Not that the difference would be noticeable once they changed back.

He stared out of the Crow's Nest at the calm ocean, his hands itching for a cigarette to hold to his lips. He wouldn't do it even if no one was there to see; for a moment before he had forgotten it wasn't his own body, but Sanji knew perfectly well the care the moss-brained idiot took of his body and it would be disrespectful. Fighting, insulting and all around annoying one another was fair game, damaging his body even in such a small and stupid way wasn't.

How long were they going to stay like that? His nakama had adapted pretty well to the situation, Usopp taking the change to practice his sharpshooting skills with countless arms, Chopper and Robin taking a chance to swim now they were not hammers and Luffy and Franky goofing around with their exchanged bodies. The only person not doing absolutely anything had been Zoro, just leaving for a quiet place to have a nap. He usually trained for a couple of hours after dinner but today he skipped it, whether he did it because he knew Sanji's body wouldn't take the gruelling exercise or because he thought it would be a waste not being inside his own body was anyone's guess.

A noise from the deck brought Sanji back to the present, the light fall of footsteps approaching the Crow's Nest and climbing up. His lips curved on a smile, about time.

"Oi Marimo, I though you wouldn't be coming tonight."

"And miss this chance? In your dreams, Cook."

He had been wondering, ever since the moment he had looked up during dinner and seen his own eyes staring back with the light of mischief and desire plainly written on them, if they were really going to do it. Well, it was a chance to good to pass, wasn't it?

It was strange, to put it mildly, to kiss himself. The taste and texture of his own mouth against the one he inhabited now was at once new and terribly familiar, the tongue sliding against his retaining still the faint tang of cloves and cigarettes. Long fingered hands settled on face, sliding down his neck and pressing him harder against the other body, a slender thigh worming its way between his legs and rubbing against his hardening cock. Sanji moaned, the sound impossibly arousing being at once his and Zoro's.

The hands moved to his waist, tugging at the haramaki he had not thought to remove and beginning to dispose of his clothes while the lips slid to his neck, nipping and licking the skin. It had always been a sensitive part of Sanji's anatomy but now it seemed to be almost overwhelming, his body shuddering at the feeling. He responded in kind, knowing also the parts of his own body which would respond to stimulation, hands slipping under the shirt Zoro was wearing--his shirt--and raking blunt fingernails up Zoro's spine.

The muffled curse he got for his efforts was more than enough encouragement. He made a mental note to memorize his pleasure points now for when they switched back.

They got rid of the rest of their clothes in record time, Sanji pushing Zoro down and laying on top of him, the weirdness of seeing his own body spread and wanting like that only making the whole thing more exciting.

"Oi Cook," Zoro said, stopping him before he could continue his ministrations. "Are you sure you want to do this? This is your body, after all."

The question gave him pause.

This, whatever it was they had, was a fairly recent development between them. The logical evolution of their arguments, fights, and name calling covering a deeper bond than they would ever admit out loud. But there was one thing Sanji had been adamant about: he was nobody's bitch. Zoro didn't care one way or the other as long as he got to get off, but Sanji had been the butt of one too many cabin boy jokes, thanks to his build and his looks, to feel comfortable taking it up the ass.

But this time didn't count as Sanji taking it, did it? Would it count if he let himself be fucked while in Zoro's body?

He was thinking too much.

Annoyed at himself for being distracted so easily, Sanji shook his head and leaned down again, "We're doing it this way, Marimo," he said against Zoro's mouth, kissing him again.

If he had thought kissing himself was strange it was nothing to what followed, exploring his own body with mouth and tongue and teeth, biting softly the juncture between neck and shoulder, nails scratching his sides, body arching up when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, tongue tasting his own skin avidly. Zoro was enjoying his knowledge very much, if the sounds he was making were any indication, and Sanji couldn't help the smirk on his lips while he played with his navel, making Zoro writhe and curse, the sound of his own voice from the outside making his arousal throb painfully.

He stopped what he was doing for a minute, moving away from Zoro and grabbing the small bottle of hand lotion they kept in the Crow's Nest for these occasions.

Sanji was back in an instant, slicking his fingers. He had a moment to consider it again before breaching his body for the first time, but they needed to get off, both of them, and the hesitation lasted no more than a second.

Zoro flinched when he pushed the finger inside, "Fuck, Cook, you really have never done this before!" he gasped, forcing himself to relax visibly.

Sanji could feel how tight it was and realized they were going to need more preparation than usual. By the time Sanji considered his body was sufficiently prepared Zoro had been reduced to a panting mess, his breath fast and loud in the small room. Sanji was also approaching his limit quickly. They were not going to last much longer.

He pushed in slowly, sinking into his own body inch by inch, teeth clenched. Fuck but it was tight! So tight he might lose his mind if he didn't move soon. Fully sheathed, Sanji stopped, gulping in air and counting to ten to calm down.

"Move, you fucking bastard!" Zoro groaned under him.

Sanji obliged, withdrawing slowly and pushing back in, slow deliberate thrusts trying to find the perfect angle. He had to control his strength, Zoro's body being much more powerful than he was used to, the force of the first thrusts rocking the entire body under him.

Zoro's hands reached for him, grabbing his short hair and pulling him down for a searing kiss, lips hungry and hot. Sanji closed his eyes, thrusting faster into the welcoming body, the sensation so intense he felt his head was spinning.

Everything was spinning.

Startled, Sanji opened his eyes and cursed.

"Get off me, fucking Marimo!" he shouted before thinking, looking up to see Zoro staring down at him. What a fucking perfect moment to change back!

Zoro looked as confused as Sanji felt, frozen mid-thrust, a strained look on his face. Oh fuck, there was no way to stop now.

It felt strange, so strange. He was being filled; he could feel his own body trying to split at the seams and Zoro's hard cock inside him. His body froze, clenching around Zoro's cock and Sanji could see his shuddering, trembling with the effort of staying still while reality reasserted itself.

"Stop that idiot, and relax so I can move," Zoro grated through gritted teeth, pulling back slowly.

Sanji took a deep breath and made a decision. It felt weird, but it wasn't unpleasant. "Don't you dare stopping now, Marimo!" he said, legs encircling Zoro's waist and pulling him back in, back arching up at the feeling.

"Make up your bloody mind," Zoro grumbled, but his mouth was twisting in a smile, body already moving and picking up the pace. He leaned down, hitching Sanji's hips higher and angling up, making Sanji curse with the next thrust.

No, it wasn't unpleasant at all, the deep powerful thrusts hitting that spot inside him and the friction rubbing his aching cock pushing Sanji closer to the edge, making him wonder why he was so reluctant to try it this way. It felt fucking incredible.

He might have said it out loud; he realized seeing the wicked smile on Zoro's face. He proceeded to wipe it with his mouth, grabbing on to his spiky hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Zoro must have been paying attention before as well, Sanji noted when he felt hands worming behind his arched back, nails scraping lightly down his spine. With a shudder and a muffled groan Sanji came, the pleasure of the whole surreal experience almost blinding. He was still panting for breath when Zoro stiffened inside him and came a couple of thrusts later, his heavy body slumping on top of Sanji.

"Get off me," he said after a few breaths, pushing the idiot off him and reaching for his discarder shirt.

Zoro grumbled and moved, slipping off him and settling on his back, eyes already closed for his post-everything-resembling-exercise nap.

He frowned at the stab of pain in his lower back when he moved, and the feeling of Zoro's come inside him made him wish his watch was over to take a bath; he lit a cigarette and inhaled the much needed nicotine, thinking.

He was glad he had his body back and could smoke as much as he wanted, but it had been an interesting experience. Very interesting.

He certainly wouldn't mind being on the bottom from time to time now.

He took a drag from his cigarette and looked at the snoring naked idiot on the floor. No, he wouldn't mind but there was no way he'd tell him and inflate his ego even more.

Maybe they could fight for it.

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