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Zoro hooked the arch of his foot onto the sill of his window, checked the balance. Braced the heels of both palms against the frame, wrapped a white-knuckle grip on the wood, and folded himself into the space, both arches and now both heels firm on the sill. He perched there in a crouch for a long second, eyeing the thick bushes lining the house - dry, this time of year, leafless, and prone to rattle. Yeah, he couldn't just drop into those without making enough racket to wake up Kuina at minimum, probably Koushiro too.
He shouldn't have had to be doing this at all. But his sensei was traditional, and "curfew was curfew" besides. Fuck that. He gauged the distance, shifted his weight a few times, and launched himself over the bushes, catching his weight on his palms and tucking into a roll. He made no more noise than any of the forest animals who snuffled around the property ever did, not enough to raise any commotion, and congratulated himself as he straightened up, brushed dirt and grass off his hoodie.
A red light blinked twice in his periphery, some twenty feet into the woods, and he grinned to himself, rushing right to the source with the cool night air on his cheeks and the crisp autumn leaves rustling softly around his feet - around just the balls of his feet, with him walking as digitigrade as a human could to sound more like the wildlife. He felt wild now, coming up on his mate (they weren't bonded, he wasn't marked, they didn't really dare yet, but their minds were made up all the same) in the dim of the woods and the light of the stars, cupping his hands right around the other's cheeks, pressing forehead to forehead, and grinning as they breathed the same air. Felt unfettered, uninhibited, free.
The shudder of breath against his face could have been laughter, chill, jitters. It didn't matter, when it was chased by a press of lips to his, a kiss by way of hello, and Zoro folded right into it, eyes drifting shut, body surging flush to the other's. The cook's arms sluiced around him, hands clasping right at the small of his back, holding him where he belonged. Zoro shivered - definitely not with chill.
"...We're gonna be late," the cook mumbled against his mouth, not quite pulling away. Zoro grinned into the kiss.
"I'm okay with that," the swordsman whispered in return. He leaned back in, and his mate gave no protest.
They'd end up watching the fireworks from the edge of the woods, too far away over the city proper to hear. But if they weren't in the thick of the festival, nobody could say anything to them. Wonder at their age. Report an unbonded omega teen out without an adult in the middle of the night, have that get back to Koushiro. Nah. Out here, they could sit on the split-rail fence at the edge of Koushiro's property, press close, cup palms and link fingers. Sanji promised to make him anything he wanted, on the coming weekend, to make up for not being able to sample the festival foods. Promised further that in a couple years, when they'd be of age and nobody could send them home, he'd keep the swordsman at his side the whole day and treat him to everything the festivals had to offer - this one in the fall, the next in the winter, and on and on, for the rest of their lives. Zoro offered up the requisite grumble or two, how he didn't need to be taken care of, but the lopsided grin never left his face. Need and want were two different things.