goryhole
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“Well?” he starts, unimpressed. “What do you want?”
Sanji takes a moment to process the question itself, to process the richness of the bartender’s voice that has him drawing in a quick breath despite himself. As his gaze falls to the bartender’s nametag, he says, “I want whatever’s on the house... Zoro.”
“Nice joke, Shit-Brows,” Zoro huffs, reaching for the polished cocktail glass to his right. “The only thing that’s on the house is my foot up your ass. Now cough up your order. Everything here is 1,359 beri and up.”
It isn't far-fetched to say that life is full of surprises. Life is full of good ones; it's full of more unpleasant ones. It's full of surprises that appear rugged at first, which, in time, give way to something, or rather someone, who is perfectly imperfect. Sanji learns, first-hand, that some surprises have the power to change one's life for the better.
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Shane's expression twists; his eyes begin to well with tears beneath the blindfold. “You’re perfect, Ilya. You’re the best. You—you make me feel so fucking good.”
Please.
Please don’t be disappointed in me.
Ilya removes his blindfold carefully—tenderly. His voice is soft when he speaks again, his thumb wiping Shane’s wet eyelashes. “I’m good, yes, but I am not very forgiving. You know this, right?”
Shane seeks out Ilya to help him take the edge off.
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After a moment’s reflection, Sanji says, “Run.”
Zoro whips his head to the side to look at him. Run...? “What?”
Sanji gestures to the darkened sky above and looks at him as if he’s grown a second head on his shoulders.
“Run, Zoro!” he hollers, his eyes burning as he forces himself to keep looking around for an unlocked establishment, or for some kind Samaritan who would be willing to take them in, at least until the newly formed snowstorm blows over. “This is looking pretty bad. We have to find somewhere to stay before we actually end up dying out here!”
“Just—” Sanji grounds out, hissing because the cold air hurts to simply breathe in. “Stay—stay near me at all times!”
In a cruel twist of fate, Zoro and Sanji find themselves separated from the crew and in the middle of a snowstorm. Falling victim to the god-awful weather, they find themselves grappling with something a bit more pressing: their feelings for each other.
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“Who? Me? Nonsense,” Satoru turns on his heels and offers him a wry smile. “I’m as straight as they come.”
Suguru takes a step back, lips pulling over his canines. “Are you sure about that?”
Satoru hums the affirmative and blindly reaches behind himself to drop the wine opener near Suguru’s feet. He slowly settles on his haunches, holding the heated eye contact, leaning forward just enough to drag his cheek against Suguru’s hardness.
And this is a pivotal point in the game, as well: with Satoru pushing Suguru’s buttons at any opportunity that presents itself.
Satoru bats his eyelashes, nuzzling his erection, devoid of any restraint or shame. “I’m positive, baby.”
Satoru and Suguru want to fuck each other, but both parties hold themselves back from doing so. Who will break first?
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When Ivan manifests this time around, Till pretends as if the mere sight of him doesn’t have his heart fluttering in his chest. “So, you’re here again? Just my luck.”
He just can’t help himself.
It’s far easier to avoid such things.
“Can’t show up unless you want me here, asshole,” Ivan drawls, grabbing his chin unforgivingly—a far cry from the real Ivan, but the roughness is just what he needs right now. By god, he’s drowning, he’s losing himself a little more day after day, tied down by his own emotions, his unending grief and unresolved lust. “My precious burden. So sweet as always.”
Till copes with his grief.
Recent series
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Summary
A plant pixie living among humans meets a blond photographer.
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