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Sanji woke up first that morning, warm and comfortable under the blankets with another body pressed against his back. Shifting in Zoro’s arms, he reached out for the elephant clock on his night stand to check the time and let out a huff. Why the hell had his brain woken him up at eight in the morning? Whatever. It’s not like he had to get up and go anywhere today. He turned the clock back around to keep from losing anymore of his tiredness as he closed his eyes again when a loud snore lifted a tuft of his hair towards his face making him frown. Ugh. Zoro. How he managed to fall asleep with this man on a regular basis was a miracle, but he wasn’t sure if he could fall back to sleep now. Sanji could feel himself creeping closer to full consciousness by the second. Another snore followed by a snort as light brown arms tightened around his waist made him shift back into Zoro’s chest and adjust the blankets.
He could deal with this. Reaching a hand down, he rubbed his fingers along Zoro’s scarred forearm as the last traces of sleep slipped from him. The man was a damn chopping block, but the feature was charming in a weird way. Another uniquely Zoro attribute that he loved. Sanji might be able to go back to sleep if he really tried, but he knew an opportunity when he smelled one. He started to turn in Zoro’s arms very slowly. Zoro would breath in, Sanji would steal a couple inches, freeze as Zoro breathed out, rinse and repeat until after a couple minutes he was face to chest with the man. He greedily eyed Zoro’s chest before placing a hand on each pec.
“My awful beast,” Sanji spoke under his breath pressing a kiss between Zoro’s muscles. He rubbed his thumbs in small circles continuing with the hushed sentiments smattered with kisses. “My big tiger,” Another kiss, “My stupid barbarian,” Another kiss, “My terrible demon.”
The kisses remained as soft as his voice as the compliments became sweeter, his thumbs stopping the rubbing to simply cradle Zoro’s pecs. “My ridiculous heater,” Another kiss, “My bumbling samurai,” Another kiss, “My boneheaded booze fiend.”
Sanji didn’t notice any shift in Zoro’s breathing as he went on with more kisses, the sentiments becoming cheesy. “My moronic sweetheart,” Another kiss, “My dopey jughead,” Another kiss, “My handsome man.” His hands didn’t stop from giving the muscles a gentle squeeze this time to show his appreciation. “My darling, my marimo,” Sanji’s eyes had closed with the final kiss, “the love of my life~.”
“Tell me how you really feel, cook,” Zoro’s voice was gruff with sleep.
A cold hand gripped Sanji’s heart as his fingers dug into pert muscle. Leaning back, Sanji looked up to see a very awake Zoro and asked, “How long have you been conscious.”
“Somewhere around stupid barbarian I think. I was kind of fading in and out,” Zoro licked his chapped lips making a face at the taste.
Sanji moved to sit up in bed, the blanket falling down to sit at his waist while goosebumps drew paths along his arms and shoulders. A beat passed. Zoro stared up at him, his expression sleepy, but a lazy smile on his face as the flush on Sanji’s face spread. Making a decision, Sanji took the nearest pillow, pressed it into Zoro’s face lightly, and then began applying pressure, “I have to kill you now.”
“OI.”