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Zoro was nervous, but excitement churned in his stomach; Mihawk had invited him to the club. Finally, Zoro had spent a whole week talking to Luffy about it; after all, it was thanks to him that he'd met the man and ended up in the relationship they were in now. They'd been seeing each other privately long enough, and both recognized that they loved each other as more than just sexual partners. They had found what they needed in each other's company and were happy.
They had discussed it occasionally, and during one of their sessions, the possibility of visiting the club. Although Zoro was initially quite nervous, the more he thought about it, the hot sensation stirred in his chest and spread throughout his body. The added incentive of a surprise that Mihawk wouldn't reveal until the night at the club had him on edge. Zoro arrived at Mihawk's house in the mid-afternoon, parked his motorbike where he always did, and walked quickly to the door. He wasn't late, but he was right on time. The door opened, and Mihawk's flat smile sent a chill down Zoro's spine.
"Excited, froggy?"
"Yes… Sir." Mihawk steps aside and Zoro quickly enters, trotting straight to his assigned room to drop off his bag and gain a few seconds of peace. He liked it when he could stay a few days at his partner's house, when their schedules coincided and they could enjoy each other's company without other worries. Besides, they could always take things outside the bedroom, and Zoro enjoyed them more and more, letting the warm, homey emotions fill his mind.
"Come to the kitchen, we can have a drink while I explain a few things." He hears Mihawk's voice from afar and answers without giving it much thought. He doesn't really know what they're going to do, other than get ready for the night, so he opens the bag on the bed and takes out his clothes to put them in the drawers. He already had some clothes in that room, as if he had silently left some of his belongings there. Marking his territory. He rolls up his sweatpants above his knees and straightens his tank top; He was a little sweaty from today's scorching sun, but he didn't smell bad. He closed the door behind him, and as he walked toward the kitchen, he felt the sweat pooling in his palms.
In the kitchen, Mihawk awaits him, seated on one of the high stools, facing the emerald marble countertop. Two wine glasses are full, and Zoro smiles at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Are we celebrating?"
"Something like that." Mihawk takes the other stool, pulls it closer, and gently taps the seat. "Come. Sit down." Zoro happily obeys, resting his bare feet on the metal counter and licking his lips. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, just a little nervous… Excited too, I'm looking forward to it, you know? After thinking about it a lot, and talking it over with Luffy, of course…" Zoro rambled a bit, but no one was to know that Mihawk thoroughly enjoyed those few seconds when Zoro relaxed so much and was almost talking to himself. But he didn't want the boy to get completely lost in thought, so he clears his throat slightly and strokes Zoro's knee to get his attention.
"Focus, darling. You can't leave yet..."
"I'm sorry, sir." Mihawk gave him a gentle smile, and when he saw Zoro's cheeks turn blood red, he held out the glass with his free hand. His other hand rested on his knee, tracing random patterns in the creases of his trousers.
"Before I tell you everything I have planned, I'd like to give you something—"
"The surprise? Already?" Mihawk wouldn't say anything about the interruption; seeing the excitement in his boy's eyes was enough to make him shake his head in amusement.
"Yes, kid, the surprise. You're taking a lot of liberties today, aren't you?"
"I'm sure we can sort it out later." Zoro's smile was pure arrogance. Mihawk was eager to put—remember—the brat in his place, and he'd have plenty of time. He left the stool and returned a short while later with what appeared to be a shoebox, at least judging by its size, a velvety black color. He placed it on the counter and sat down again. When he realized Zoro wouldn't touch the box until he gave permission, he sighed fondly and nodded.
Zoro's fingers trembled as he approached the box. There was nothing written on it, no markings to indicate what might be inside, so he simply grasped the lid and removed it with ease. A gasp caught in his throat. The inside of the box was lined with a kind of glossy, dark red paper, and in the center, neatly folded, was a thick, heavy necklace. It was different from the one he usually wore in scenes; the difference was clear at first glance, and his eyes darted repeatedly between the necklace and Mihawk. The details of the necklace quickened his heartbeat as he pulled it from the box. The black was matte, with the top and bottom edges lined in a wine-red that was hard to miss. These were the colors most associated with Mihawk. His eyes filled with tears when he saw the writing, almost illegible through the tears. It was a uncial script, recessed into the material, minimalist to be honest. He traced the letters with his fingertips and felt the searing heat warm his chest. Dracule Mihawk. His full name. In the center of the collar, where inside there was maroon padding that would gently caress his throat, on the outside, like the letters, was a relief in the shape of a hawk, and just below it a fold from which a ring would hang, and if Mihawk wished, a leash. Zoro was completely moved; after all, when he turned the collar in his hands, he discovered the lock that could only be opened with a key; this collar had a completely different meaning.
"Sir? Are you…?" Zoro struggles to speak. He usually blurts things out without thinking, without fear of the consequences, but now he feels his throat tighten and the words tangled on his tongue. The onslaught of emotions makes him tremble in his chair, his surroundings blurring, his eyes brimming with glistening tears. He tries to regain some self-control, closes his eyes, and exhales calmly. Mihawk is stroking his cheek, but Zoro can't quite tell when the hand reaches it. He's grateful.
"Too much? Did I go too far?" The uncertainty in Mihawk's voice is so genuine that it pushes Zoro to the brink in an instant. It's something he's always admired about the man, from the very beginning. The brutal honesty of his character.
"Perfect, rather. It's perfect, sir." He hears him let out a sigh of relief, and Zoro laughs. "I can't wait to use it." Mihawk returns his gaze and closes the distance, his lips resting on Zoro's forehead, and the young man can only relax on the stool, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
"I promise I'll put it on you before we leave the house. First, we have a few things to do."
"May I ask what they are?"
"Groom you." Zoro tries to feign indignation. Mihawk only heard Vivi compare him to some kind of stray cat once, and the man, although he often referred to him as "frog," thought it was perfectly fine to call him that. Especially when it came to anything involving water.
"I'm not a cat."
"Well, I think you're the only person I know who sleeps as much as they do. And anywhere, I must say, it's fascinating." Zoro mutters something under his breath, but forgets it the instant he feels Mihawk's warm palm on the back of his neck, firmly massaging the area.
"I might scratch you if you try to bathe me..."
"You're quite the fighter, froggy." Mihawk releases his grip on Zoro's neck, and Zoro exhales, feeling comfortable with the caress, already missing the sensation of skin against skin.
"So, shall we take a bath?"
"I'm going to treat you, Zoro, like a king. I'm going to adore every inch of your body as I prepare and mold you to my liking. You'll be the most beautiful jewel in the place, and no one will be able to touch you except me."
Zoro bit his lip, completely beside himself. Sometimes he wondered if Mihawk was fully aware of the effect he had on him. Only a man of his caliber could make such a demand and then, a second later, give him the sweetest, most loving look he'd ever seen. Because Mihawk, contrary to popular belief, didn't hide his feelings. If he loved, he loved fiercely. If he hates you, you'd better stay away. And for Zoro, he felt devotion. The young man could feel it on his shoulders, scratching his back and chest, exploring every patch of skin within reach. Zoro could only moan, now enveloped by invisible arms that would always hold him. God, truly meeting Mihawk had been the best thing that could have happened to him. He still had to berate himself every morning for putting Luffy off for three months before reluctantly and exasperatedly agreeing to open himself up again and return to that world.
"Mihawk…?" He whispered the name softly, struggling to grasp where they were at that moment, though any way of addressing him felt fine; he just wanted to process the call before speaking again. He looked into his eyes for a few seconds and shifted on the stool. "I love you… I love you so much, I really do."
"I would choose you over and over again, Zoro." Zoro felt weak, crawled off the stool, and, standing, trembling like a branch, fell onto Mihawk's chest, wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a bear hug, and buried his face in the crook of his neck.
()
They're in the bathroom, the room filled with steam and the scent of citrus and orange blossom. One of Mihawk's favorite soaps. The man is still fully clothed, though his shirt hangs loosely over his body, sagging below his abdomen. The lack of buttoning reveals a vast expanse of smooth, pale skin, devoid of any hair except for the wisp that runs from his navel down. Zoro is naked in the tub, one arm dangling out as Mihawk gives him a thorough wash. Very slowly, he moves the new sponge from the bathwater to his partner's tanned skin. He massages his muscles and occasionally showers him with small kisses and nibbles. When he finishes one limb, he sets it back in the water and picks up another. He cleans between his fingers and toes, reaching, as he'd said before, every millimeter of his body. He massages him behind the knee and above the thighs, feeling beneath his rough hands the relentless work Zoro had done in the gym. Zoro's physique was always admirable, a work of art, a Greek god sculpted to perfection. He gets lost in his chest, how could he not? The curve of his pecs is a sin against humanity, and he's a weak man; he can only run the sponge over them and walk along the valley they form. His nipples are sensitive to touch, erect and red from the warm water. He indulges himself by pinching them a little, twisting them as he pleases until he feels Zoro's toes curl inward. They had worked very hard to achieve such sensitivity in the boy's breasts, and Zoro loved it. Mihawk had lost count of the times he'd managed to make the boy cum just by playing with his breasts. Mihawk amuses himself with the enormous scar that runs the length of his body, dragging the sponge up and down it. Zoro told him his story one night: an accident when he was little in which, tragically, his parents died. He had no other family, so he went to live with some of his father's friends and their young daughter. Mihawk met Perona once, briefly, but he was able to thank her for taking care of Zoro all that time. It was no wonder, then, that Zoro only spoke highly of Perona, aside from the typical sibling bickering. It was clear he loved her deeply.
He snaps out of his thoughts when a sharp sound reaches his brain. Half his arm is submerged in the bathtub, his sleeve rolled up above his elbow, and the sponge resting on Zoro's right hip. There's some foam, but Zoro's erection is prominently displayed.
"Froggy..."
"I'm sorry... I..." The boy's voice comes out muffled, apologetic gasps, his face wrinkled and flushed. Mihawk moves the sponge to the other side of his hip and smiles, noticing the ripple in Zoro's stomach muscles.
"You'll have to put up with it, or I'll have to give you a cage." It's not a threat in and of itself, but the warning seems to hit Zoro like a ton of bricks. It only takes a few seconds for him to be distracted, and soon his cock is retracted. It's fascinating. Mihawk's chest swells with pride, and the temptation to lead his boy to a release haunts him. But they have other plans, a schedule to keep, and they can't be late. "You'll get a reward for this. You're impressive, Froggy." Mihawk knows the power of his flattery. Water splashes over the edge as Zoro squirms contentedly, strutting like an animal. He smiles at him affectionately and raises the sponge to Zoro's neck, where he rubs it on both sides, then down his shoulders, around his shoulder blades, and along the curve of his spine. When he's finished, he throws the sponge into a bucket beside him.
He gets up from the floor and grabs a small, whitish bottle with purple and green lettering. A gift from Crocodile. He pours a generous amount onto one of his hands and with the other, he squirts some water onto Zoro's green head. He cut his hair not long ago, so he has a few longer strands. Then there's his braid. It's small, not even the width of an index finger, but it's long, starting just above his ear, right at the nape of his neck, and ending at his shoulder. Apparently, like his gold earrings, it's a way of honoring his family. Mihawk loves these little details. He washes Zoro's hair calmly, scratches his scalp, and waits expectantly, knowing it's impossible for Zoro to purr or anything like that. To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened. That friend of his was absolutely right. He watches from above; Zoro is completely melted in the tub, his eyes closed and his head hanging back. He kisses his forehead affectionately, then his nose, and runs his tongue over his lips.
"Siiiiir..."
"Shh, I told you you have to endure it." Zoro's forehead wrinkles, and Mihawk kisses him behind the ear, letting out a breath against the muscle to irritate the boy a little more. "Don't be such a whiner."
When he clears Zoro's head, he offers to help him up. Zoro looks so relaxed that he struggles to move, and Mihawk quickly wraps him in a plush white bathrobe. He leads him to a small chair, and soon a pale green towel is draped over his head, drying his hair with care and dedication. He thought he'd have to do more; he'd forgotten that he'd scheduled a salon appointment for Zoro, and he'd had his hair waxed two days ago. His skin is smooth, and there isn't a single stray hair in sight. This is how Mihawk liked him best.
"Are you with me?" Mihawk crouches down in front of Zoro, between his legs, and Zoro nods with his eyes closed. "Words, darling. Please."
"Yes… sleep?"
"We don't have time for a nap. Besides, I couldn't wake you up even with an assault tank." Zoro chuckles softly and shakes his head. All that relaxation is taking its toll. "Come on, let's get out of the bathroom."
Outside the room, the atmosphere is a bit colder, but Mihawk had already taken care to close the window and door to prevent such a radical car from entering. He leads Zoro to the bed and sits him on the edge, loosening the robe a little as he goes. He folds it down to Zoro's waist and climbs in behind him, his hands full again from another bottle that Zoro doesn't recognize.
"It's oil. I want you to be smooth and shiny tonight." Zoro doesn't mind; Mihawk knows it. He soaks his hands and rubs Zoro's back, releasing some tense muscle points. "Looks like you've been pushing yourself this week, a lot of work?"
"No… Work has been quiet, but we were helping Franky in his workshop. You know, carpentry isn't my strong suit, but it's definitely fun to be busy doing things like that every afternoon. I had to cancel my appointment with the physiotherapist because Luffy stole my motorbike without telling me, and I wouldn't make it in time."
"I remember you telling me about that. What did you do in response?"
"I hid the meat Marco gave us."
"Oh, so I almost lost you during the week and you decided not to tell me anything about it." Mihawk twists his thumb at a particularly hard spot, and when Zoro complains, he pats him on the shoulder.
"That hurt..."
"Well, I don't like you putting yourself in mortal danger." Mihawk knew Zoro would be capable of fighting back, but they both knew that with food involved, Zoro could very well have died that fateful Wednesday, so the boy just snorted gracefully and moved his neck from side to side to release tension.
Mihawk got off the bed and sank down again between Zoro's legs, took one of his ankles, and placed the sole of his foot on his shoulder, stroking his calf with his oily hand. Zoro was flushed again, his gaze not fixed on Mihawk, but rather to the side, and his hands moved nervously at his sides. It took a few minutes, maybe a few more, with a slightly mischievous smile on his face. He said he was going to worship him, and that's exactly what he was doing.
"Sir?" Mihawk responds with a nod, his left hand wrapped around Zoro's knee, his fingers squeezing the flesh. "What are we going to wear?"
"I've been thinking about it until recently. I want something that highlights your best features, but I don't want it to be too over the top. And I want the necklace to look good." The possessiveness in that sentence stirs both of their minds, and Mihawk leans in to place a chaste kiss on the inside of Zoro's bare thigh. "Any ideas make you uncomfortable?"
"I don't think so. Although it's true I don't remember the club's classic attire very well, and both Nami and Luffy always dress quite casually." Mihawk feels Zoro shrug, his mouth still pressed to Zoro's skin, his stubble teasing a particular spot. Getting to this point hadn't been easy. The visit to the club was a personal step for Zoro, a very big one, and Mihawk was more than grateful to be able to do it by his side.
"Your friends will be there, and so will I." He kisses his skin again, this time taking a small piece between his teeth, biting gently but still leaving a tiny mark.
"I know, it means a lot to me."
Mihawk releases Zoro's leg and repeats the same actions with the other, counting each tiny mole he already knows about, but always likes to point out.
"No shirt?"
"Sounds good."
"Perfect. I'd die if I had to hide your tits from the world."
"You're a selfish bastard, aren't you?" Now it's Mihawk's turn to shrug.
"They can look all they want, let them rot with envy when they see me squeeze your pecs in my hands." Mihawk works magic with words, he knows it very well, and he'd be damned if he passed up the opportunity to melt Zoro with them. He loved the boy's small but striking reactions. His body was as honest as a reflection. And there were no more secrets between them, not after almost a year and a half as a real couple.
Mihawk finishes slathering Zoro in oil and gets up from the ground with a tempting smile on his face. In front of his boyfriend, his expressions were sharp and almost exaggerated, something he had developed the more time they spent together. Zoro had shed his shell and kicked down every wall. He lifted his chin with two fingers and they looked directly into each other's eyes.
"If you're not sure about this, now's the time to tell me, understood?"
"I understand, sir."
"So?"
"I agree. Green, sir." Mihawk stroked the tip of Zoro's nose and picked up the collar from the box, which he'd left on the bed before going into the bathroom.
"Lift your head, froggy." Zoro obeyed immediately, satisfying a primal urge inside. He placed the collar around Zoro's throat and fastened it behind him, letting the sound of the lock reverberate between them for a few seconds. "Good?" He didn't tighten it completely, but he didn't leave it loose either; it was difficult to fit a collar inside. Probably Zoro's preferred tightness, because his boy liked that boundary between security and pain. Of course, Mihawk did too, perhaps that's why they meshed the way they did.
"All right, sir. Thank you." Mihawk congratulated him with a kiss on the lips and went straight to the closet.
"I'm going to take a shower now. I'd like you to get ready in the meantime." He placed a bottle of lubricant and the plug they used when they left the house on the side of the counter. "When you're done, wait for me naked on the cushion. We'll decide what to put on you then." Mihawk grabbed a towel for himself, approached Zoro again, and brazenly devoured his mouth in a dirty, toothy kiss. "Have fun, froggy."
Mihawk closed the bathroom door behind him and stroked his cock a couple of times when he heard his boy's deep groan. This kid… one day he was going to kill him…
()
They're in the car, they've had a light dinner and are probably a few minutes late; it was hard to focus on anything else with Zoro so close. The drive to the club is quiet, the radio playing softly in the background helping Zoro stay calm, and he finds himself glancing out the window a couple of times, appreciating the softness of the coat Mihawk had lent him. It was always nice to wear his clothes, warmer and more comforting than his own.
"Remember the rules?" Zoro looks away from the window and studies Mihawk's profile. He nods and smiles as the man's pale hand closes on his knee.
"Always stay behind you, only speak when you give me permission, and… And don't let anyone touch me." Mihawk nods silently, and the grip on his knee tightens. Zoro feels a little dizzy. Mihawk had always looked good behind the wheel, but today he looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine; his black satin shirt and velvet vest hugged his body in unimaginable ways. Then there was the handkerchief, folded in his breast pocket, its color that particular maroon, just like his necklace. A way of saying they matched. Zoro glanced over at his stomach and reached down at his own trousers, adjusting the fabric or he'd get out of the car a little too pleased. Those damn trousers. Mihawk was wearing tight, black leather trousers, a shiny, eye-catching leather that matched his pointed shoes with their low heels. It was unfair how good he looked, but then the thought struck Zoro that it was just for him, and a smug smile spread across his face.
"What are you thinking, froggy?"
"Oh, nothing, just how good you look in those clothes and how much I love that you mean everything to me." Mihawk laughs freely; the feeling is mutual. He trails his hand over Zoro's knee and stops at the curve of his muscle, near the boy's groin.
"You look great too." Zoro smiles at him and takes Mihawk's hand in his own, bringing it to his mouth and lingering, kissing each knuckle slowly. He nibbles a little and stops when he recognizes the parking lot; for being early, it's quite busy. Nerves flare as soon as he steps onto the sidewalk, but Mihawk's arm around his waist restores the calm that had escaped him moments before. "Color?"
"Green, sir..." Mihawk kisses the side of his forehead and takes his hand. They walk out of the parking lot and turn their heads toward a voice.
"Zoro!" Nami appears from across the street, her orange hair pulled back in a high bun with a few loose strands framing her face. Several jewels adorn her hair. Mihawk greets her with a simple gesture and steps aside so Zoro can approach his friend. They embrace for a long time. Nami runs her hands over his cheeks and, with a wide smile, slips her finger into the loop of his necklace. "Look at you... Lucky bastard..." Zoro returns her gaze and struts smugly.
"Lucky? I don't think your girls would be happy if they heard you say that." Nami shrugs, and Zoro is curious to know what she's wearing under the light blue down coat that drapes her curves like some kind of gift.
"And that's why they won't find out, right?" Zoro laughs and leans against her calmly.
"And Luffy?"
"I think he's inside, probably in some dressing room sleeping or running away from Bon-Chan." Zoro stifles a small laugh and says goodbye to Nami when he sees Mihawk approaching the wardrobe.
"Find me later, okay? I don't know what Mihawk has planned, but I'm excited."
"Sure, enjoy."
Entering the Club is like stepping into another world. Colored lights flicker across the room, reds, blues, and purples appearing in different corners, and Zoro can already feel the warmth of the atmosphere in his bones. He reaches Mihawk and takes hold of his shoulders, slightly wrinkling his shirt between his fingers. Mihawk strokes one of Zoro's hands and opens his designated locker where he keeps his carefully folded coat. Then he turns to Zoro and begins unbuttoning the one he's wearing. As he removes the coat, he finds miles of tanned, glistening skin. The oil has left a luminescent layer that reflects the light, almost like a divine second skin. Zoro trembles in Mihawk's hands, a blush rising to his ears and spreading down to his slightly tense shoulders. Mihawk moves closer and showers him with kisses all over his face until he feels Zoro relax. Zoro gasps when he feels Mihawk's gaze fixed on the collar. As he imagined, the red padding is soft against his skin, and the feeling growing inside him is difficult to explain. Mihawk puts away his coat and with one finger gathers the gold chain hanging across his chest, on small clips that close over his nipples. He tugs on it, without any force, and they meet in a kiss full of saliva and tongue. Mihawk's free hand has moved down, bending just below one of Zoro's buttocks, silently enjoying the outline of his ass through the tight leather pants that leave very little to the imagination. It's so easy to discern the shape of Zoro's dick under the fabric that Mihawk wants to play with it before leaving. And the rim of the plug is also visible if you look closely.
The belt of his trousers has a pleat on each side, the black leather straps climbing up Zoro's ribs where there's another ring, then climbing higher. They encircle the man's chest, accentuating the obscene curve of his pectorals, ending at his neck, beneath the collar, to trace an inverted Y shape across his back. It's a simple harness, but it adds a touch of sophistication, and Mihawk recognizes Zoro's penchant for something that constricts his body. Mihawk runs his fingers along one of the straps and plays with one of the rings on his rib, a placid smile stretching at the corner of his lips.
"You look exquisite… I'm glad you suggested using the chain." Mihawk tugs on it again and breathes on Zoro's shoulder. "Sometimes you have brilliant ideas."
"Of course."
They stay there for a few more minutes, the music playing softly, almost in the background, but they aren't really paying attention. They are more preoccupied with each other and Zoro relaxes when Mihawk wraps him in his arms and strokes his cheek.
"I know I'm asking a lot of questions, but I want to know how you're feeling at all times." Zoro pressed closer to Mihawk, the soft fabric of the vest tickling his skin. "Remember, if you want to get away for a bit or be with your friends in the lounge area, let me know first." The background noise seemed to be growing louder; the club was surely filling up little by little, members coming and going from the dressing rooms or waiting rooms, rooms like the one they were in right now. Of course, Mihawk would make sure they had a private space. "We'll probably see some familiar faces, are you okay with that?"
"Yes." Zoro rested his cheek on Mihawk's palm, his gaze sharpening. His makeup was subtle, but the sparse, smoky black eyeshadow traced his feline eyes.
"Then let 's go."
The atmosphere is already different; as you venture deeper, the lights dim, darkening certain areas. Several bars are scattered throughout the vast space, the floor is clean, and the surface isn't overly hard. Zoro is wearing his boots, but it's not uncommon to see people barefoot; Luffy used to go barefoot often. With his head down, he begins to survey the place, and although he feels a little overwhelmed, there's something new in his chest, a throbbing sensation that tells him he's alright, that this is the right place. Mihawk leads him directly to one of the lounges. It's not very large, but several leather sofas are arranged in a circle, with plush cushions in the center, and Zoro feels his brain quickly turn to cotton. The music reaches his head, and he gently bobs his neck, following the melody at a comfortable volume. Mihawk takes a seat on one edge of the sofa and gestures toward the cushion with his eyes. Zoro kneels between his legs, resting his hands on his thick thighs and his head on Mihawk's leg, his nose dangerously close to the inside of his trousers. Mihawk soon scratches Zoro's scalp with his nails, and when a waiter approaches, he orders a non-alcoholic cocktail and a bottle of water, in case Zoro is thirsty. When the waiter returns with the drinks, he apologizes and asks for a straw for the bottle.
"This is a most pleasant surprise." Zoro didn't raise his voice, though he recognized Crocodile's deep, slow tone. A cold sensation ran down his spine. From where he stood, he recognized two figures. Crocodile's fur coat was unmistakable, and the other figure's lack of clothing confirmed everything Zoro needed to know. Was it Daz? The man was slightly taller than Zoro, but just as broad. Long, tanned limbs. Zoro ran his hand down the man's calves and discovered tiny black leather briefs that definitely left nothing to the imagination. And wow, the blush on Zoro's cheeks was intense.
"Crocodile, I was expecting to find you here." Mihawk's hand slid down the back of his neck to the base, closing tightly around the collar. He had surely noticed Zoro's growing curiosity. Zoro hears nothing, but when he feels one of the cushions near where he's sitting sink, he assumes Daz is crouching down with him. "Zoro." He raises his head carefully, his eyes still looking down, but he gives Crocodile a quick glance and nods politely. There must have been an exchange of glances between the two men because Zoro feels a larger hand on his head and closes his eyes as Crocodile's fingers playfully tug at a few strands of hair.
"What a fine young man you have here, and the collar looks great on him." Zoro puffs out his chest with pride, something flashes in his eyes, and he smiles as Daz's hand tugs hard on Crocodile's trouser leg. Well, someone here isn't enjoying sharing the attention. Zoro can see him better now; Daz has several leather straps wrapped around his entire body, the tattoo on his chest is striking, and kneeling as he is, the thickness of his thighs seems to surpass Zoro's. Crocodile sits on the sofa opposite, legs wide open, and Daz approaches him in seconds. Zoro notices Crocodile's cologne and his own scent stinging his nose, and realizing they won't need him for who knows how long, he squirms slightly and hides his head in Mihawk's thighs. Seconds later, a sloshing sound makes him open his eyes, and when he understands, his cock responds with a terrible spasm.
Mihawk lifts Zoro's chin with his hand, his fingers digging into his cheeks, above his dimples, and asks with his eyes. Zoro answers without opening his mouth, the sound of the zipper dulling his brain. Mihawk wasn't wearing underwear, and the scent of the soap from the bathroom they shared made his knees feel weak. When he finally managed to get the weight of Mihawk's cock against his flat tongue, everything seemed alright. Mihawk and Crocodile were talking amongst themselves, but the words didn't reach Zoro; he had better things to worry about. Getting a few husky gasps out of Mihawk was a personal victory. The pinch on the back of his neck told him he might regret doing such a good job later, but Zoro could only smile excitedly.
He didn't know how much time had passed. Mihawk had told him he could just keep him warm, and Zoro already felt like his brain was completely mush. Crocodile and Daz had moved away. Zoro noticed they were gone, but he didn't pay much attention to them when they left. His eyes are glazed, and Mihawk's figure dissolves in the spotlights, but the hand in his hair holds him just enough to prevent him from disappearing completely. Mihawk leaves his mouth, and Zoro feels his jaw muscles go slack. He runs his tongue over his lips and teeth, savoring every last trace of flavor. He stands when Mihawk offers him a hand and invites him to walk a little. There are more people than before, many more. The dance floor is packed. Zoro spots the wristbands with the traffic light code from afar and smiles, remembering his first visits to the club without much of an idea of what he was getting himself into. He walks just a step behind Mihawk, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze lowered, but he doesn't lose sight of his man, and they both reach one of the bars.
"Zo-chan!" Mihawk pats his shoulder and, with a smile, lets him pass in front of him. Immediately, Bon Clay leans half his body out of the bar and wraps his arms around Zoro's shoulders in a hug that's tighter than it looks. Zoro has to move his head away so the swan headband doesn't poke his eye out, and he bursts into laughter in Bon Clay's ear when he starts to cry alarmingly. "You came! I'm so glad to see you again! And... Oh, my boy, you look beautiful!" Bon Clay looks at his necklace and then winks at Mihawk, who seems more interested in the splinters of the bar than in Bon Clay himself. "How are you feeling? Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"
"Calm down, calm down. Everything's fine, really. I'm happy." Zoro's smile grows genuinely, and Bon Clay wipes away a few tears from his face, careful not to ruin his elaborate makeup.
"Someone did a gorgeous job on your eyes. Who knew Dracule was so good with eyeliner…" Zoro laughs again and asks for a glass of water, which he gulps down as soon as he gets it; they'd left the bottle on the table. "If you're looking for the guys, I think they're in one of Iva-san's private rooms. Do you remember where it was, darling?" Zoro avoids rolling his eyes and intertwines his free hand with Mihawk's.
"Yes, yes… I'll go visit them, see you later."
"You look hot, baby!"
Mihawk lets Zoro lead him through the crowd. It's not difficult to walk, really, and everyone seems to be slightly aware of their surroundings, so it's easy to dodge, and people move aside a little if they need to pass. Zoro feels renewed in strength. Every now and then, he turns his head back and smiles broadly at Mihawk, who returns the gesture with a softer smile and a firm handshake. They go up the stairs and notice that Alber seems to be walking toward them, so Mihawk steps in front of Zoro and kisses him on the cheek.
"Do you want to greet him properly?" Zoro nods and waits for the other man, who has already noticed them, to finish closing the distance. Before meeting Mihawk and agreeing to be his submissive, Zoro had a few sessions with Alber to, well, get back in the swing of things, so to speak. And it was always nice to see Alber.
"Dracule, it's been a while. You should have let me know you were here, and... Look at this handsome fellow." Mihawk returns the greeting and steps aside slightly so Alber can see Zoro in all his glory.
"Finally, we agree on something." Alber laughs and gently takes Zoro's jaw in his hand. The leather of his gloves is soft to the touch, and Zoro tilts his head back so the inscription on the collar is clearly visible.
"Look at you... Proud, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir." Alber smiled sweetly and grasped the fold after glancing at Mihawk. Mihawk had always been known for the silent possessiveness he held over his submissives, but he'd never had anyone as long as Zoro, much less someone to whom he'd offered a permanent collar. So Alber felt a little mischievous, freely fondling Zoro in front of Mihawk. He knew it was okay; they'd known each other for a long time, and Alber had agreed to work with Zoro before releasing him into Mihawk's strong hands. Besides, if they'd agreed to come, it was because Zoro wanted to finally unburden himself of the weight he carried on his small—now enormous—shoulders. Alber hadn't seen him in a while. He knew Mihawk could trust him and would never deny Zoro a touch he so desperately craved. He couldn't help but wonder silently, as he traced Zoro's lip with his fingers, if Mihawk would lend him one night…
He'd have to ask another day.
"Your boys are in the private room, I imagine you'll go see them." Zoro wants to reply, but Alber's gloved fingers hold his tongue, so he only nods and glances sideways at Mihawk. The man is calm, with a slight air of pride about him. He was probably letting Alber do all this to show off how well Zoro could behave.
When the doorbell rings, Zoro feels the urge to back away. A wisp of black hair shoots out like a cannonball, and he feels skinny arms tighten around his ribs.
"ZORO!" Zoro is on the floor, rubbing his head for a possible bump, and finds Luffy cross-legged across his stomach. He's wearing an open leather vest, his enormous scar showing, and very short leather shorts.
"Get off me, damn it!" Luffy starts laughing and loops a finger around Zoro's gold chain.
"Oooh, you think you're Nami? Wearing gold, look at you." A few laughs drift from the door, and Zoro tries not to kick Luffy off his lap. He's surprised by Mihawk's patience right now, allowing this simply because it was them, but they were still in the club. Then someone lifts Luffy by the scruff of the neck, almost like a punished puppy, and Zoro meets Trafalgar's weary, disinterested gaze.
"Brat." Zoro gets up and dusts himself off, glances at Mihawk, and smiles when he realizes Mihawk has been laughing the whole time. Once on his feet, he's about to speak, but Trafalgar's apology interrupts, and before anyone can say anything else, Robin's slender figure enters the scene and invites them in. Zoro enters the private room with Luffy apologizing; he'd been too excited when Nami told him he'd come and couldn't help himself. Whatever Trafalgar whispered in his ear finally calmed the energetic young man. Mihawk wraps his arms around Zoro's hips from behind and kisses his earlobe.
"I'm going out for a bit. If you need me, don't come out. Tell Robin to call me, okay?"
"Sure." Zoro returned the kiss, and Mihawk said goodbye to everyone with a polite bow.
"Luffy, you're an idiot!" Nami shouted, and Zoro found her lying on the sofa, wrapped in Vivi's arms. Robin took the empty seat to pull Nami's legs back into her lap.
"Sorry."