Archive of Our Own ^beta

Zoro has a problem.

Well, he has two problems. But really, the two problems are actually just the same problem. So he has one problem, in two parts.

The first of those two parts is Sanji, Zoro's roommate. Sanji is a lot of things that improve Zoro's quality of life. Sanji is a really fucking good cook; Sanji is a neat freak; Sanji is extremely punctual about rent. However — and this is where the problem lies — Sanji is also, unapologetically, trans, and bisexual, and extremely fucking horny.

It's not that the first two are a problem, exactly. Zoro's known he was gay since he was old enough for it to be relevant, and when his childhood best friend came out as trans, he kicked Zoro's shit in until Zoro got his name and pronouns right. It's that the third one is so much of a problem that it makes the first two part of the problem. If that makes sense. Which Zoro's pretty sure it doesn't.

The second part of the problem is Sanji's boyfriend, Law.

Law is studying to be a heart surgeon. Law is five years older and four inches taller than Sanji and Zoro, and decorated from head to toe with piercings and tattoos. Law wears a gold ring through the centre of his lower lip and gold barbells through each nipple and Zoro knows for a fact that Law has not one but two piercings on his dick, because Sanji has described them, and what they feel like, at length. More than once.

Sanji and Law are from Montreal, and speak French to each other at speeds you'd have to be on cocaine to understand. Sanji and Law have been dating since before they moved to Toronto. Sanji and Law are both so hot it literally makes Zoro's mouth water to look at them. Sanji and Law know this. They are not merciful with this information.

Sanji and Law have sex in Sanji and Zoro's apartment every weekend. Loud, hot, filthy sex. On what sounds like every available surface of Sanji's room. And several in the bathroom, as well.

(Sanji and Law, Zoro has discovered, are both horny goddamn freaks.)

Zoro and his hand have gotten all too well acquainted since Sanji moved in.

Another problem worth noting: Sanji and Law both like getting stoned out of their minds. Especially with Zoro. On the weekends. In between rounds of all that filthy sex they keep having. Frequently leading directly into at least two more — usually louder, filthier, and starting on the way to, rather than in, Sanji's room.

For some reason, Zoro always agrees to this.

Zoro doesn't smoke much, but he does drink, and Sanji has been known to work some crazy magic with edibles that Zoro's gotten roped into taste-testing a couple of times. Law likes to get himself crossfaded as hell and then sprawl out on Sanji and Zoro's living room floor with his back against the seat of the armchair where he can't see what's on the TV. Sanji cannot hold his liquor for shit, so after stealing half of Law's first drink he usually switches to pot to fuck himself up.

Being high makes Sanji's sex drive a thousand times stronger. It also makes Sanji's brain-to-mouth filter completely dissolve.

Law tends to just go quiet. Sanji gets fucking horny.

Tonight, at least, this part is very, very relevant.

It's a Friday. Law gets out of class early on Fridays, and his housemates have apparently forbidden Sanji from spending any more weekends at their house due to sex crimes. Zoro would have put down similar rules, except that when it comes to Sanji and Law, Zoro is a horny, terrible pervert.

(He knows they know he listens. They haven't said a word but he knows they fucking know.)

Law is, as usual, zoning out against the armchair, in between sips of the vodka-soda-heavy-on-the-vodka he's nursing and hits shotgunned from his boyfriend's horny mouth. Said boyfriend is sitting in his lap, back against Law's chest, with a joint between his fingers and Law's upraised leg between his thighs, humming tunelessly along to the dialogue of the movie nobody's watching and pretending he's not grinding on Law's thigh.

Zoro is sitting against the couch with a beer. That's about as much as he can handle right now. Any more than that and he might actually lose his mind.

Law is dressed, as far as Zoro's concerned, like he always dresses. He's wearing his usual spotted jeans and one of those hoodie shirts he wears, white with yellow sleeves and a bunch of graffiti scribbled on the front in heavy black marker. The sleeves are shoved up to expose the ink-and-vitiligo-patterned skin of his forearms, his feet are bare, and his collar is pulled far enough askew to show off his collarbone. He's hot as hell. He knows it. Zoro knows it. Sanji knows it.

Sanji, though, is not dressed like usual, so Sanji is maybe hogging Zoro's attention, just a little. Day-to-day, for work and classes and whatever else, Sanji dresses in layers — undershirt, button-down, and either a vest or a literal suit jacket to go with it. He wears black slacks and leather shoes and ties that Zoro only knows are silk because of that time he tossed one in the laundry hamper in an attempt to be helpful and got a whole lecture on the nature of silk fabric and its relationship with water for his trouble. But that's not the point. The point is, the way Sanji dresses for his day-to-day life is up. So when Sanji dresses down, it hits like a brick between the eyes.

Tonight, he's wearing high-waisted jean shorts that he definitely bought in the women's section and a faded men's workout tank that's at least a size too big for his narrow frame. The front of the shirt is tucked into his shorts, so Zoro can see the way the layer of squish over his stomach fills out the sturdy denim. His legs are bare and about a mile longer than any human being's legs need to be; his generous thighs are pale and deceptively soft-looking, but Zoro can see a hint of powerful muscle where they're squeezing Law's leg. His bare toes are flexing lazily against the rug.

Really, with all that leg to look at, the shorts are bad enough, but somehow the shirt is worse. Sanji's chest is pretty flat, and he never bothers to flatten it further, even though Zoro's pretty sure he does own a binder. Under all the layers he usually wears, there's no real need for it. Under a shirt as thin as this one, though, his tiny tits are perky enough to make his nipples stand out, visibly hard through the worn cotton.

Zoro's never been all that into boobs, so he's not an expert, but the amount he wants Sanji's tits in his mouth feels unhealthy.

Sanji raises his joint and takes a long, luxurious hit. Zoro watches, transfixed by the way the joint sits between his fingers, the movement of his arm as he lowers it again. He has to swallow hard at the graceful twist of Sanji's throat as he tips his head to breathe the smoke directly into Law's mouth. Smoke curls from between their lips as they meet, part, and meet again; their tongues slide together, visible only in the sliver of smoky space between their mouths. Zoro's dick aches in his sweats.

Sanji breaks the kiss with a contented hum. Law's head lolls back against the chair. Sanji licks his lips.

"You're staring, mosshead," he purrs.

Zoro tries to look away and fails. He clears his throat, then again, harder.

"Isn't that my shirt?" he manages on the third try.

"Mm." With two fingers of his free hand, Sanji traces the collar of the tank top. One strap slips an inch further down the slope of his pretty shoulder. Zoro could swear he sees a flash of deep pink at the very edge of where Sanji's fingers drift towards one nipple. "Want me to take it off?"

He does. He really, really does. But even if Sanji wasn't actively using his boyfriend as a chair, that would seem a bit rude. "Just wanna know why you stole it."

Sanji exhales noisily. "All mine are dirty."

"Liar," Law chimes in, face still pointed at the ceiling. "I saw your closet earlier. It's still half-full."

"Not with anything I'd wear." Sanji drops his head back to Law's shoulder and shifts his hips idly against Law's thigh. "Half the shit I own is unwearable. I'd fucking die of embarrassment."

"Then why do you have it?" Zoro cuts in.

Sanji waves a hand absently. "Gifts. Joke gifts, mostly."

Law drags his head upright, then tips it forward, to press indulgent kisses along the edge of Sanji's jaw. "Hey. Salope."

Sanji hums and bites his lip. Zoro doesn't know what that word means, but Law's been using it like a pet name since the first time Zoro met him. Zoro would bet all three of his katana that it's something fucking horny.

"Truth or dare," says Law.

That's right. They were playing truth or dare while they all ignored the movie. Not like Zoro cares — the movie's in French, anyhow. The TV is just background noise.

"Was it your turn?" Sanji murmurs.

"Is now. Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"I want you to go to your room," says Law. His free hand is on Sanji's narrow waist, fingers creasing the soft blue cotton of what's technically still Zoro's shirt. Zoro swallows heavily. "I want you to strip yourself naked. And when you come back, I want you wearing the three most embarrassing pieces of clothing you own."

(Law did not phrase that like a dare. He phrased it like an order. This fact does not escape Zoro's notice. Judging from the way Law's tawny eyes flick pointedly up to his, Law can tell.)

Sanji chews on his lip. His thighs flex around Law's leg. "Mmh. Do I have to?"

"Go on." Law slips his hand under Sanji's perfect ass and hoists him to his feet. "Get moving, jambe de diable."

Sanji sways a little on his feet. "So mean," he pouts, bending 90° at the skinny hips to shove his ass into Law's face and drop his joint in the ashtray on the coffee table. His stolen shirt hangs loose under his chest. From where he's sitting, Zoro can see everything, all the way to where his shorts dig into his soft stomach. His nipples are so damn hard. There is not a single inch of skin in that expanse that Zoro can't vividly imagine sinking his teeth into.

Sanji straightens back up. "Don't have too much fun without me," he declares, before sauntering away down the hall, pulling Zoro's shirt off as he goes. Zoro watches the curves of his naked back shift in the low light until Sanji disappears into his bedroom.

He looks back at Law. Law still looks distracted, eyes lingering where Sanji vanished from view. He's got his lip ring between his teeth and is chewing on it absent-mindedly.

Zoro takes a long drink of his beer. When he wipes his mouth, he takes the chance to subtly mop up the drool that collected in the corner.

There's a long and quiet wait. Zoro sips his beer. Law sips his vodka soda. The movie plays on in the background, but Zoro has no clue what's happening in it. The subtitles are on, but he can't be bothered to read them.

After a long minute, Law leans forward and snags Sanji's joint out of the ashtray. Takes a hit. His eyelids flutter as he inhales. Zoro's way too distracted right now to decide what filthy thing he wants to do to him to get that same flutter out of him, but there's a long list. He knows Law is more of a switch than his boyfriend. He knows Law doesn't bottom for Sanji as much as he likes to bottom in general. He knows way too much about Sanji and Law's sex life for his own good. It's given him way too many ideas.

Law opens his eyes, right at Zoro. Wordlessly, he offers the joint, but Zoro waves it off. "No, thanks."

Law leans forward to set the joint back in the ashtray. Smoke drips from his mouth, spilling over his lip. His lip ring slices through the wave like a shark fin in the water. Sanji's oral fixation might be more obvious, but Zoro knows Law's is just as bad. He wonders how that lip ring would feel on the underside of his cock. It's pretty much the only thing Sanji hasn't already described to him, and that's only because Sanji doesn't know.

Zoro takes another long drink of beer, or at least, he tries to. There isn't a long drink left for him to take. Instead, he swallows the last of it and stands up. His dick is so hard it might interfere with him walking to the kitchen, but he is not prepared to brave Sanji's return without a drink in hand. Embarrassing could mean any number of things, but knowing Sanji, he's totally going to make it horny.

He indicates Law's glass. It's half-full, but still. "Want a refill?"

"Just soda, thanks," says Law, passing up his glass. His eyes flick past Zoro's groin as though there's nothing to see, but Zoro's commando under his sweatpants, and even when it's soft, his dick is not small. There's no way Law missed it, but he just sits back against the chair, eyes on the ceiling once again.

Zoro goes to the kitchen. Grabs himself another beer from the fridge. Tops off Law's glass with fizzy water from the bottle by the fancy machine Sanji brought when he moved in and a fresh lime wedge to add to the accumulating stack floating with the ice. When he gets back, Law is exactly where Zoro left him — one leg up, one leg down, leaning back against the armchair with his head on the seat. There's a damp spot on his jeans where his dick is straining against the denim.

Zoro's fingers tighten on the neck of his beer bottle. He holds out Law's drink. "Here."

Law's eyes flick to him. He takes it. "Thanks."

Zoro nods once. Lowers himself back to his spot on the floor. Takes a sip of beer. Law stares at the ceiling. Zoro stares at the wall. They both silently pretend not to have seen each other's hard-ons. The TV plays on, still ignored, in the background.

Finally, just as Zoro's dick is starting to calm down, Sanji's bedroom door bursts open, and Sanji comes swirling unevenly out into the hall. "Tadaa!" he proclaims, glancing off the wall and spinning to a teetering halt. "An outfit."

"Come show us," Law calls.

Sanji giggles. "I made it cute~!" he adds, flouncing out into the living room. He's red all the way down his neck, but he's grinning like an idiot anyway. "Dites-moi qu'j'suis mignonne, Law."

"T'es très mignonne, babe," Law agrees, sharp hazel eyes tracking Sanji across the living room as he raises his head. "Zoro? What do you think?"

Zoro failed grade 9 French twice, but he followed that well enough. "Pretty cute."

Then Sanji reaches the middle of the living room floor, directly between Zoro and Law, and finally stops moving for long enough that Zoro can actually see what the hell he's wearing. And oh, jesus. What he's wearing.

First: the shirt. It's a see-through white tee, loose and drapey, that barely reaches the bottom of his ribs. Across the front, in sparkly pink cursive, it says babygirl. His nipples are tenting the fabric so hard Zoro could probably taste his skin right through the shirt.

Under that: the skirt. Zoro has to drag his eyes past a mile and a half of gloriously bare stomach to get to it, which nearly stalls him out, but it's worth the effort. The skirt is made up of several layers of soft black ruffles, and doesn't even reach mid-thigh. It barely covers his ass. Despite being technically longer than the shorts he was wearing before, the skirt is definitely skimpier. Zoro swallows hard. And below it...

Below the skirt, a long, fluffy pink tail hangs between Sanji's legs.

Zoro knew tonight was going to test his self-control, but fuck.

Law hums appreciatively and sips his drink. "The tail is from Christmas with my crew, right? How about the rest?"

"The shirt, I don't remember," Sanji says, turning to him. The tail swishes against the backs of his pretty thighs. He's close enough that Zoro can see the goosebumps that rise at the touch. So much for Zoro's dick calming down. "Somebody gave it to me, I forget. The skirt, I bought myself."

"It's cute," Law notes. "You find it embarrassing?"

"You ever seen it before?" Sanji leans down briefly to grab his joint from the coffee table. His skirt rides up, lifted by the swell of his ass and the voluminous fluff of his tail. "Hardly gonna wear a skirt out anywhere."

Zoro barely hears him over the heartbeat suddenly racing in his ears. Past the black skirt and the fluffy pink tail, he could swear he only saw skin.

"Why not?" Law's asking. "Gender bullshit?"

"Gender bullshit." Sanji shifts his weight. The tail swishes again. "It's fucking stupid, though. Like, if a cis guy wears a skirt, he looks like a guy in a skirt. If a trans guy wears a skirt, he just looks like a girl." He shifts his weight again, flashing another tantalizing glimpse of the space under his skirt. There's no room under there for any kind of harness to hide that well. Zoro's heart is pounding like crazy. Somehow, he realizes, he's leaned forward without noticing, desperate to know whether he's right or not. Because if he's right — if he's right, that means—

Law's talking again, but it's not at him, so Zoro doesn't hear it. Sanji giggles again, and bends over to set down his joint. The glimpse he gets is brief, but unmistakable. There is nothing under there but skin, and the tail. Which means—

Unthinkingly, Zoro lashes out. His fingers curl into fluffy pink fur. "C'mere," he says, and tugs.

Sanji yelps and stumbles backwards. With a burst of panic and a flailing of limbs, he topples into Zoro's lap.

Thankfully, Zoro's reflexes manage to save him from any serious injury at the mercy of those pointy elbows. They also manage to save his dick from getting crushed into oblivion; Sanji lands first on Zoro's stomach, but he's tensed for it, so it doesn't even wind him. His free hand reaches for Sanji's waist automatically to try and steady him. It's not until he feels bare skin hot under his fingers that he remembers how little Sanji's wearing, and his brain promptly skips a beat.

Then gravity kicks in one more time, and Sanji slides down from Zoro's stomach, and the whole burning expanse of under-the-skirt settles right over Zoro's raging boner.

"Uh," says Zoro.

Sanji swears fluently in French. Those gorgeous thighs flex dizzyingly on either side of Zoro's hips, and he grinds, hard and sweet and filthy. His hands land like claws on Zoro's raised knees. "Fuck. Shit. Oh my god." He squirms, throat releasing a desperate jumble of whines and moans and other, less easily categorized noises. "Oh my god."

Zoro's brain grinds back into gear. His hand is still clenched around the tip of that damn tail; with difficulty, he loosens his grip, and walks his sweat-sticky fingers up the length of the thing. Sanji's gasping nonstop now, cursing in English and French indiscriminately as his hips jolt in Zoro's lap and his fingers dig into Zoro's legs, but none of it seems like a complaint, and he's not hearing anything in either language that sounds like either stop or no, so Zoro doesn't stop until his fingers reach the base of the tail and find hot, slick steel.

Zoro was right. It's a plug. It's a fucking plug.

Sanji is trembling in his lap. The plug seems to have slid out of him a bit with all the rough treatment, so, just to be nice, Zoro braces his thumb against the base and pushes it back in.

Sanji wails, grinding down hard against Zoro's hand. The movement pushes the plug into him even harder, and Sanji's legs pull tight around Zoro's hips. "Oh god, oh fuck, câliss," he sobs, hands kneading at the fabric of Zoro's sweatpants as his hips just keep moving. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god," and then he dissolves back into incoherent French. Zoro doesn't move, but he lets Sanji grind on him, because, what, he's gonna stop him? Sanji's practically fucking himself on Zoro's hand, very nearly riding Zoro's dick through his sweats. There's a damp patch starting on the fabric from everything Sanji's grinding against him. Zoro can't even fucking think for long enough to remember why stopping Sanji would be anything but a terrible idea.

Law's voice breaks the spell. "If you want something," he says, and Zoro jumps, guilty gaze jumping to Law, but Law's not even looking at him— "you have to ask, princess."

"Fuck me," Sanji bursts out.

Zoro's first reaction — after his dick fucking throbs because holy shit— feels like disappointment. He knows how this is going to go. They found the line for tonight, and they've already crossed it; now Sanji and Law are going to go back to Sanji's room, and Zoro will be left out here to jerk off listening to them go at it, and that's fine, that's how he was expecting the night to end, but... already?

Except — Sanji isn't leaving. Law isn't leaving. As quickly as it had appeared, the disappointment shifts to anticipation. If they're staying here, that means this time will be different. Maybe they'll finally drop the pretense, acknowledge that Zoro wants them both, and fuck right here in the living room. He knows they've been letting him listen — are they finally going to let him watch?

But Sanji's not done talking. "Zoro, please."

What.

His eye flicks back to Law. Law's lounging back against the armchair with a smirk over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on his boyfriend. He's palming himself through his jeans.

"Me?"

Sanji whines another plea. Law's eyes hop to Zoro, and he nods once.

Zoro stares for a second. Sanji's hips keep grinding mercilessly against Zoro's hand, and all along Zoro's dick. Zoro's pretty sure there's not a single coherent thought in his head; it's all just a swirling mess, until his useless brain decides to spit up one of the many, many things Zoro has learned about Sanji's sexual preferences, and once again, he grinds back into gear.

He rocks his thumb against the plug. "Want this out?"

"No." Those sinful fucking hips shift direction, grinding not back against Zoro's hand for once, but down against his erection. Zoro's sweatpants press hot and wet against his dick. "Leave it, I want you to fuck my pussy, Zoro, please."

Okay. God damn. Okay. "You got condoms?"

Sanji shakes his head. "I'm clean," he promises breathlessly, and his hands drop from Zoro's knees to try and fumble his pants out of the way without stopping that filthy grind. "I'm clean and I'm on birth control, I want you to fuck me bare, please."

Zoro's gaze snaps back to Law. Law meets his eye and lowers his drink. "If you'd prefer a condom, I can go get you some," he says, like a responsible med student.

"I— no, I just. You good?"

Law smiles. "I'm great."

"This okay?"

"Of course." Law's tattooed fingers flex, drawing Zoro's gaze down to his lap as he squeezes himself through his jeans. "Mind if I watch?"

"Go for it," Zoro rasps, and then the cool air hits his dick, followed by Sanji's hand, which gives him a slow and luxurious squeeze that makes his brain crumble into tiny pieces.

Sanji's other hand braces on Zoro's knee. "Shit," he breathes reverently, shifting his grip on Zoro's cock, and then he's nudging the head up against something hot and slick and insanely fucking soft, and what's left of Zoro's brain crumbles even further.

Sanji's hips rock, and that softness parts for him, yields to him. Zoro fumbles for the coffee table, sets down his beer a little too hard. Sanji moves, and the head of Zoro's cock presses in. It's a tight fit; Sanji whimpers, fingers digging into Zoro's leg, but it doesn't sound like pain, so Zoro's not worried. Frankly, Zoro doesn't have the brains left to be much of anything. Sanji's taking him in, bit by bit, with filthy rolls of his hips, fucking himself shallow and greedy with what little of Zoro's cock he's already got, and Zoro just slumps back against the couch and lets him.

Being, as he is, gay, Zoro's not ashamed to admit that he's never seen or touched a pussy before. He is maybe a little ashamed to admit that he's barely halfway in and already completely losing his cool. Sanji's pussy is so hot and so wet and so goddamn tight around him, and he swears he can feel the solid steel of the plug against his dick through Sanji's walls. Sanji's moaning nonstop, pussy squeezing rhythmically around Zoro's dick, and Zoro spends a moment kind of mesmerized by the way Sanji's hips move under his skirt before it occurs to him that there's probably a pretty nice view under it, too.

The tail is in the way, though, so Zoro grabs it and, quite unceremoniously, pulls it aside.

Even he feels the way the plug jerks at the movement. Sanji lets out a muted wail and throbs around Zoro's dick. His legs are shaking.

"Such a slut for it," says Law, over the gasping whines Sanji's letting out with every panted breath. "Isn't that right, princess?"

With a pretty little whimper, Sanji drops the rest of the way down. The feeling punches a quiet grunt out of Zoro's throat; Sanji clenches around him and whines again, high and delirious.

Law chuckles wickedly. "That close already?"

Sanji nods frantically. Zoro is with him there — with the way Sanji's pussy keeps squeezing him, he's already holding himself back. He uncurls his fingers, releasing his inadvertent grip on the couch cushion and letting go of the tail plug. The idea is half-formed in his mind to hold onto Sanji instead — to put his hands on that skinny waist, or those Fucking Thighs — but he kind of stalls out halfway, too in love with the way Sanji feels around him to think of anything else.

"Good girl," says Law, and Sanji sobs.

(The phrase 'gender bullshit' doesn't mean much to Zoro on its own, but he gets the gist. Something about how feminine behaviour shouldn't invalidate Sanji's masculine identity, or whatever. Zoro's always thought the whole argument was a bit dumb. If Sanji says he's a guy, then he's a guy, no matter what he's wearing or responding to. He's just a guy in a skirt.)

Sanji rocks his hips, yanking Zoro out of his head and back into his body. "Law, please—" He can't seem to finish the thought, too busy grinding filthy circles on Zoro's dick. He feels fucking incredible.

Law's voice is low, but still crystal clear over the sounds of Sanji and Zoro's ragged panting and the background noise from the TV. "You want to come?"

"Please."

Law smirks at Zoro. "Maybe if you ask him, Zoro will rub your clit for you."

"You'll have to show me where it is," Zoro admits, already reaching to touch, and Sanji grabs his hand in a death grip and shoves it under the front of his skirt.

Wet. Shit, he's so fucking wet, it's kind of all Zoro can feel, but Sanji's fingers settle behind his, and with them to guide him, he finds what Sanji wants easily enough. "Right there," Sanji gasps, "rub right there," so Zoro obeys. "Ah, fuck, just like that—" Sanji's pulsing like crazy, muscles spasming around Zoro's cock as he gets progressively tighter. His shaking thighs are pressed close enough around Zoro's hips that Zoro can feel them tensing too as Zoro pushes him closer to coming. He must be so damn close. Zoro doesn't dare change what his fingers are doing without explicit instructions, but there has to be something else he can do to push Sanji over the edge. He needs to see it. He needs to make it happen.

(He knows how Sanji responds to praise. He's never been all that subtle.)

Zoro leans forward, bracing himself on the edge of the couch with his free hand. "You feel so fucking good," he rasps, not bothering to disguise how affected he sounds.

That does it. One more filthy gasp, one more hard grind of those incredible hips, and Sanji comes. His pussy clenches blindingly tight around Zoro's cock; his death grip on Zoro's hand tightens until Zoro's knuckles creak in protest; his thighs squeeze Zoro's hips hard enough to bruise. Zoro grits his teeth, holds himself back, and keeps his hand moving as best he can, working Sanji clumsily through his orgasm, because if he feels like his brain is leaking out his ears, he can only imagine how Sanji feels.

It takes Sanji several long seconds to peak out, shaking. He tugs Zoro's hand away from his clit and slumps forward, catching himself with an elbow on Zoro's knee. His breathing is ragged, his pussy pulsing with aftershocks at random intervals. "Fuck," he mutters, and rocks his hips. His pussy throbs again. His legs twitch.

Law finds his voice well before Zoro does. More power to him — he didn't just have to hold himself back from a brain-melting orgasm by sheer willpower. "You going to ride him now, princess?"

Sanji whimpers. "Yeah, I'm— gimme a second."

Zoro's heard Law call Sanji 'princess' a couple of times before, in some of their hornier discussions. He's never tried it himself, but, well — he's never tried a lot of things himself. He's feeling bold tonight.

He drops his clean hand to Sanji's thigh. "Take your time, princess," he rasps.

Sanji whimpers. "Oh fuck." His hips twitch, one aborted little grind that rocks him on Zoro's cock. "Fuck," he whispers again, as he starts moving. He's grinding short and shallow, as though he just can't help himself. It makes Zoro lightheaded to think about. "Fuck," Sanji breathes again, "you're so—" as his movements gain coordination and he starts to ride Zoro in earnest. His skin slaps against Zoro's as he picks up the pace; the damn tail twitches across his stomach as Sanji pants sweet noises into the air with every breath. Zoro's halfway biting back his own sounds, just so he can hear Sanji's better, but then a particularly sharp rock of Sanji's hips catches him off-guard, and a short noise slips out of him.

It's barely more than a grunt, but the sound makes Sanji whine regardless. He whimpers, and swears again in French. "Law, please, I need— ah, ah—"

"You need more?" Law finishes for him, and Sanji nods frantically. Zoro glances back up at him past Sanji's flexing shoulder. He's mostly naked already, shirt tossed aside and jeans shoved down to stroke himself lazily. Two gold studs glitter against the head of his cock. "Greedy little slut. You sure you want it?"

"Yes." Sanji drives his hips down, hard enough that Zoro chokes quietly, though Sanji doesn't even seem to notice. "Please, Law, I need it, please."

"Say it again." Law unfolds himself from the floor and strips his jeans down his legs. He's got ink on his thighs, too, more of those heavy black swirls framing his skinny hips. Zoro can see the gold studs of his other piercing gleaming halfway down the underside of his shaft. Even with how impossible it would be to distract him right now, the sight makes his mouth water.

"Please, Law, I need more," Sanji begs. "Please-please-please."

Law hums. One long, tattooed finger taps Zoro's knee, and when Zoro lowers his legs, Law climbs astride them. (And oh, there's an idea — but later; later.) Sanji leans towards him with a horny whine, and Law catches him, cradles his pretty face in both elegant hands, and kisses him.

Sanji melts for him with a delicate moan. Zoro can't see much from this angle, but the wet sounds their mouths make are pretty clear.

Law pulls back. Sanji protests wordlessly. "Stand up," says Law.

Sanji whines.

"I said stand up," Law orders, more firmly this time, and Sanji whimpers and obeys. His pussy squeezes around Zoro's dick as he rises, as though it can't bear to let go. The tail drags across Zoro's stomach, tickling even through his shirt.

"Now turn around," Law demands.

Sanji obeys that, too, a little more readily. When he's done, standing over Zoro's lap with his ass in his boyfriend's face, Law hums and hooks his hands around Sanji's legs, just above his knees.

"Good boy," he says, and Sanji's thighs flex under his hands. "Now bend down and give Roronoa a kiss, sweetheart."

With a horny little gasp, Sanji leans down, folding effortlessly at the hips. He's always been fucking bendy, but Zoro barely has a second to appreciate it before Sanji's lips are on his.

Zoro kisses back. One of his hands rises to hold Sanji's face; it's not until it settles against Sanji's jaw that he realizes it's still sticky from Sanji's pussy, but oh well. Sanji doesn't seem to care, anyways. His kisses are deep and hungry; his tongue curls eagerly into Zoro's mouth, as filthy as the way his hips were moving earlier. Zoro vaguely hears Law murmuring more praise, but mostly he feels it shiver through Sanji's body, and then Sanji abruptly fumbles the kiss.

Their mouths slide apart. Sanji's gasping again, sounding just as desperately horny as he looks. Zoro pulls back so he can see better. Sanji's eyes are half-lidded under his disheveled hair, his pretty eyebrows furrowed with pleasure.

Zoro looks past him. Where he's kneeling astride Zoro's legs, Law has what looks like his whole face buried in Sanji's pussy.

Between Law's lip ring and their shared oral fixation, Zoro's not surprised by the way Sanji's mouth is falling open. "That feel good, princess?" he rumbles. He sounds so affected. (He is so affected.)

In answer, Sanji just whines, twists his head, and sucks Zoro's dirty fingers into his mouth.

Zoro groans. Sanji's tongue swirls across his skin, licking between his fingers while he sucks like he's chasing the flavour of his own cum. Zoro watches him work, ignored dick twitching erratically even once Law's cool fingers wrap around him. Shit, with the way Sanji's fellating his fingers, promising the world's horniest blowjob if he could only get his mouth on Zoro's dick, even the idle pace of Law's hand might push him over if he let it. He flexes his fingers in Sanji's mouth, pressing down briefly against his tongue, and Sanji whines.

It doesn't take long for Sanji's mouth to lose coordination again. Zoro lets his fingers slip free, and Sanji doesn't even chase them; Zoro leans in, and Sanji barely even manages to kiss back. His mouth tastes like the reek of sex that's thick in the air around them. Zoro tonguefucks his mouth lazily, and this time, when Sanji comes, his long, filthy moan practically echoes in Zoro's mouth.

Law shifts. Sanji whimpers. Zoro pulls his tongue out of Sanji's mouth.

Law gives Sanji's thigh a little slap. Sanji chokes. "Little wobbly there, babe," Law notes. "Why don't you sit down." He slides his hand down to the base of Zoro's dick to hold it steady. "Right here."

Sanji doesn't answer. Frankly, Zoro's not sure the way his legs buckle is even voluntary. His hands dart out to grab Sanji's thighs, and Sanji lets his whole weight rest in Zoro's grip with a grateful, horny little sigh. His thighs are fucking delicious, soft and spilling out of Zoro's palms. Really, the only problem with this arrangement is that now Zoro has to lower Sanji slowly onto his own dick without losing it.

He brings Sanji down until the tip of his dick nudges against him. The lips of Sanji's pussy are so swollen with arousal that it feels like Zoro's not even going to fit between them, but Law very helpfully angles him in, and Sanji swallows him easily. As the head of his cock sinks back into that incredible heat, Zoro groans, long and low. Post-orgasm, Sanji's even hotter, tighter, wetter than he was the first time, throbbing erratically and whimpering at the feeling.

"Feels good, doesn't he, babe?" Law murmurs to Sanji, so quiet Zoro can barely hear him. "Nice fat cock splitting you open."

Sanji nods eagerly. Zoro bottoms out. He and Sanji gasp in unison.

"Good boy," Law murmurs, and pushes Sanji forward. Sanji catches himself on Zoro's chest and whines as Law works the plug free. "Ça va?"

"Ça va," Sanji agrees breathlessly. "Law, je veux—"

"Je sais." Law runs a soothing hand through Sanji's hair and sets the plug aside. "Je sais. T'es bonne, salope, t'es si bonne. Si mignonne."

He shifts closer. The head of his dick nudges very briefly against the base of Zoro's. As he catches up to what's happening, Zoro's two surviving brain cells finally collide for long enough to produce a thought, but all they can manage is, Oh, holy fuck.

The expression on Sanji's face as Law's dick presses into his ass is possibly the horniest thing Zoro's ever seen. It's also extremely accurate; Zoro can feel those studs framing the underside of Law's shaft, dragging along the underside of his cock as Law slides in. And he thought it was a tight fit before — by the time Law bottoms out, Zoro's holding himself back yet again with pure willpower, even before Sanji starts rocking back, riding both of them, movements once again shallow and greedy like he can't help himself. Fuck, maybe he really can't help himself. He's whimpering with every shift, eyes rolled back in his head.

Law's hands land on Sanji's hips, urging him into a deeper rhythm. "Can you even come with this much dick in you?" he teases, as though he can't feel Sanji's legs shaking.

"Yes," Sanji sobs. "God, I'm so close, Law, please touch me."

Law trails his tattooed hands up Sanji's flexing stomach until they dip under Sanji's tiny shirt. He hums, pleased. "Babygirl," he murmurs absently, then takes Sanji's nipples between his fingers and squeezes.

Sanji wails, hips snapping down hard, taking Zoro's dick as deep as he can go. Zoro lets out a sound that feels almost feral. With the way Sanji's arching into Law's touch, Zoro can't resist lunging forward, dragging Sanji's shirt up, and getting his mouth on one of those gorgeous tits, whether Law's fingers are in the way or not.

They're not — not for long, anyway. As Zoro slides his tongue between them to drag across Sanji's nipple, he and Law both moan. Then Law's hand slips out of the way, and closes instead around the back of Zoro's head to pull him in harder.

"Nice and hard," Law orders, nowhere near as breathless as Sanji or Zoro but definitely affected. "Little bit of teeth, that's it. Shit, you feel that?"

Zoro grunts an affirmative. It'd be hard to miss the way Sanji's throbbing around both of them. He reaches for Sanji's other tit, and Law drops his hand. Zoro feels his fingertips nudge up against the base of Zoro's dick, and Sanji's voice rises sharply — "Ah, ah, ah, I—"

This time, when Sanji shakes apart around him, Zoro happily follows him over. His free hand drops to Sanji's ass, and he digs his fingers into a generous handful as he spills deep into Sanji's pussy with a low groan. Sanji's cry echoes over his head, so much louder without a closed door in the way. Fuck, he sounds pretty. Zoro should ask him to leave the door open next time.

Eventually, Sanji's voice subsides. Law tugs Zoro's head away from Sanji's chest, and Zoro drops his hand and falls back against the couch. Not half a second later, Sanji collapses on top of him.

Zoro settles his hands back on Sanji's perfect thighs. Sanji uncurls his fingers from Zoro's shirt and smooths his palms across Zoro's chest. (Honestly, Zoro hadn't even noticed they were there.) Sanji's whole body is twitching with aftershocks, delicate shivers running across his skin. He makes no move to pull off Zoro's dick, and Zoro's not about to rush him.

"Let me know if you need to pull out," says Law, more to Zoro than Sanji.

Zoro grunts in response, but before he can manage more than that, Sanji's kissing him again. He didn't have much to say, anyway, though, so as Law starts fucking Sanji's ass, quick and selfish, and Sanji pours a long, low moan straight into Zoro's mouth, Zoro just moans back and licks into him with deep, lazy curls of his tongue. He can feel Law's dick rocking into Sanji, the heads of his piercing dragging against Zoro's softening cock. The feeling has Sanji shivering with even more aftershocks, drawing out the echo of Zoro's own orgasm into something rich and sweet. He squeezes Sanji's thighs. The backs of his hands brush Law's where they're holding Sanji's hips still.

Sanji sighs, breath hot against Zoro's cheek. Zoro keeps lazily tonguefucking his slack mouth. Law spills deep into Sanji's ass with a quiet groan and, after a long moment, pulls out with obvious reluctance. Zoro understands the reluctance. He could go for another three rounds like that if he thought it was physically possible. No way does he want to pull out right now, but unfortunately, he kind of has to.

"My legs are numb," he admits against Sanji's lips.

Sanji topples sideways out of Zoro's lap. He lands with a heavy thump on the floor and, with no grace whatsoever, pushes himself far enough away to disentangle his legs. Law falls backward onto his hands and crab-walks back to the armchair. Zoro leans his head back against the couch. Law picks up his drink and chugs half. Sanji squishes his thighs together with an audible squelch. All three of them take a moment to recover their breath. The movie credits are rolling. The whole living room reeks of sex.

Finally, Zoro finds his voice. "That was really good."

"Mmm," says Sanji. It sounds like he's barely conscious. Three orgasms will do that, Zoro guesses.

Sanji's bonelessness, and the pleased tone of his voice, is pretty flattering, though. And, hey: Zoro's feeling bold tonight. "Let me know if you ever want to do it again."

Sanji doesn't answer — not verbally, anyway. He just reaches one hand down past the rucked-up hem of his miniskirt to spread his dripping pussy in shameless, blatant invitation.

Zoro swallows heavily. "Fuck." He can see his own cum oozing from Sanji's pussy, Law's from his ass. Sanji doesn't even lift his head; he's completely fucked out, and still asking for more, and god, Zoro wants to give it to him.

Yeah, this is going to be another problem.