Archive of Our Own

These days, stuck on Kuraigana Island, Zoro reads the newspaper.

For most people, this wouldn’t be very surprising, but for Zoro, who usually slept through Nami’s daily news recaps back on the Merry and only visited the library on the Sunny to find heavy books to stack on his back as he did push-ups, it’s a big change.

It had started with the one article—the one they all know, the one with the huge picture of Luffy with his hat across his chest. Zoro keeps a cut-out of that article on his wall, to remind him what he’s here for. It used to be in his bedside drawer, but Perona insisted on taping it up even though it had a bloodstain in the corner from the first time Zoro gripped it in his hands. She put up one of Luffy’s wanted posters, too, and scribbled a heart next to his grinning face. Zoro had been mad enough to not talk to her for a whole day. (Yet, he still didn’t take it down. Now they greet him every morning when he crawls out of bed.)

Zoro checks the newspaper every day, looking for Luffy. Each time, he finds nothing. The only articles about Luffy discuss his disappearance. Straw Hat Luffy Still At Large—Conspiracy Theorists Argue Memorial Stunt at Marineford Was a Fake. Every time, Zoro rips them out and throws them in crumpled little balls at the wall.

He’s already had Mihawk tell him everything that happened at Marineford. He’s not sure what he’s searching for—if they really did split up to train, if Luffy really is with Rayleigh—then there’s no reason Luffy would show up in the newspaper suddenly. But Zoro keeps looking, because there’s an ache in his chest only his captain can fill, and this is the only thing that keeps him sane.

For a while after Kuina died, when Zoro was small, he used to have a little ritual of leaving Wado leaning up against his window every night. It was as if the sword could summon her spirit to come crawling back through the veil of reality and into Zoro’s room, and she’d be back like she never left. It took him a long time to kick that habit, the aching repetitive gesture that could only curb his grief for a few moments at most. This feels too similar; like he’s boiling over with the desire to find some simple action that chases away all his doubting and worrying and loneliness.

He survived a good amount of time out on the East Blue alone before Luffy came into his life. Zoro knows how to be alone, and it isn’t like he doesn’t have company right now, either—he and Perona get along very well, and Mihawk serves as a fantastic distraction for the part of Zoro’s brain focused on accumulating as much strength as possible. But Zoro’s found that Luffy completed some part of himself that he didn’t know was missing, and now separation feels like anguish.

Zoro has made it a year. He can make it another, despite it all. But it does hurt.

Today has a particular aura of loneliness. Mihawk is off on warlord duties, so no training, and Perona’s taken a trek into town to restock on food. That leaves Zoro in a large, empty castle, with nothing to do except work out and stew in his thoughts. Disgruntled, he heads out onto the castle balcony to greet the delivery bird and fetch the newspaper.

He hands the bird a coin, and unfolds the paper, thumbing through the pages as it flaps away. Some bullshit about an incident at Rocky Port blasts the front page, and there’s a new wanted poster for a guy with a stupid haircut that makes him look like a chicken. Zoro sighs. No Luffy. He knew there would be no Luffy, yet he looked. He folds back up the paper, planning to head back inside and throw it on Mihawk’s desk when he’s interrupted by a loud noise.

It crackles through the air, loud like an explosion, and it comes from the forests surrounding the castle, sending birds flying into the air, squawking in confusion. Zoro wonders if it might be the Humandrills up to something, but then he sees them running out from the trees, too, and there’s a sudden blinding flash of red light across the sky. As it fades, a pillar of light bursts up from within the forest right at the source of the noise.

Zoro considers his options: go back inside and ignore this, or pursue the source of the noise. He decides, after some thought, on the second. At least it’s something interesting, and Zoro is desperate to pass the time today. He’s already got his swords on, so he leaps over the edge of the balcony to land on the ground and make his way into the forest.

Maybe it’s a devil fruit user in there, up to some tricks, and Zoro can practice infusing his blades with Haki to cut through them. As equal parts humiliating and exciting it is to train under a swordsman like Mihawk, it also gets a little repetitive fighting the same person over and over again. It would be nice to spar with someone who isn’t a prissy jerk or a literal monkey. He thinks of Luffy again, how the two of them would have practice fights on the deck of the ship, and his heart aches. Why does it always come back to Luffy?

He keeps his hand on Wado’s hilt as he travels between the trees, following the pillar of light until he reaches a clearing. Having a landmark helps a lot with his general tendency to lose his way. A few trees have fallen over, and there’s a dip in the earth like a miniature crater, glowing with that unfamiliar light. In the center of it lies a man, on his back, groaning and rubbing his eyes like he just landed there. Zoro tenses, and holds his breath.

He’s tall, and looks to be about in his early thirties or forties. He’s got a scruffy half-beard that just mostly seems to be a sign he’s forgotten to shave, but also a youthful face and posture. He's dressed casually, in pants that are too short for his long legs, sandals, and a huge black coat. The man sits up as Zoro quietly steps closer, and shakes his head like a wet dog trying to dry itself off, brushing off his knees and standing up to his full height. The light glowing from the crater begins to fade, and the man mumbles to himself, messing with his hair. No weapons, no immediately apparent abilities, but there is something about him that makes Zoro’s chest pulse with a bizarre nostalgia. It’s hard to make out his features from this distance, and Zoro squints.

The man turns around, hand over his forehead like he’s searching for something, and now Zoro is close enough to catch the details on his face. His heart stops. There’s no way, Zoro must be seeing things, but this man—he has a tiny little scar under his eye, one that Zoro’s studied hundreds of times. Maybe he’s crazy. Maybe he’s dreaming, maybe this is all just some fantasy and he’ll wake up any second now but—

“Luffy?” he asks, timidly. It’s not his Luffy, not the one he knows—Zoro’s Luffy is scrawny and small and scrappy. This Luffy is big and broad like his grandfather is, a man who must have lived through many battles, seen so many stretches of the ocean. He doesn’t have his hat. What does that mean? Does that mean he—Zoro can’t even bring himself to ask that question.

“Zoro!” His voice feels so familiar, but rougher, deeper, more aged, but it still somehow has the same childish lilt it always had. “It worked!” Luffy charges for him and crushes him in a hug so forceful Zoro falls to the ground, pinned under muscle and weight Zoro is not used to associating with his captain. It’s not Luffy, and yet it is, because when his face hangs above him, bright and ecstatic, Zoro sees all those traces of his captain he missed so much: toothy grin, bright and piercing eyes, the scar under his eye.

“What—why? How?” Zoro manages, his voice shaking at the edges.

Luffy reaches with one hand and gently strokes Zoro’s cheek, his thumb pressing next to Zoro’s left eye. His hands are so big, and it makes Zoro dizzy.

“Zoro is lonely, right?” Luffy asks, and Zoro’s heart explodes in his chest.

He bites down on his bottom lip, hard, and fights back the sudden tidal wave of emotion that threatens to drown him right there.

“I—” Zoro starts, and he can’t finish, just leaves his mouth hanging open instead.

Luffy sits up, crossing his legs, and then promptly picks Zoro up with one hand by the collar of his shirt and drops him in his lap. Zoro barely has any time to react, squawking in protest as Luffy wraps his arms around him and presses Zoro’s face into his chest.

“I came because Zoro is lonely right now. Two years is a long time. If I went two years now without seeing Zoro, I’d go crazy.”

It’s got to be a dream, but he even smells like Luffy, a scent Zoro didn’t know was so buried in his memory—the salt of sea and sweat, swallowing him whole.

“Are you saying I’m hallucinating you right now?” Zoro asks, as Luffy’s arms squeeze him so hard it almost hurts. “I just imagined you because I miss you so much?” Shit. That was too honest, but if this Luffy is just some figment of his imagination, it doesn’t matter.

Zoro wants so badly to believe that maybe when that flash of red light occurred, he passed out, and this is just a dream. Because then, he can wake up and forget his weakness, his desperation for his captain. But Luffy feels real, and solid, and here, and it sends warmth from Zoro’s chest to the back of his neck.

“No! I’m real!” Luffy whines, and it’s hilarious to hear his usual petulance coming from such a large adult man. “You told me this was the loneliest time in your life, and it made me sad, so I came to visit!”

He pushes Zoro back from his chest, big hands gripping Zoro’s shoulders, and stares into his eyes. It’s been so long since Zoro’s felt Luffy’s eyes on him. The last time was when Luffy let out an anguished scream right before Kuma warped him out of existence, Zoro realizes. That was the last time he got to look his captain in the eye.

“How did you just come here?” Zoro says, confused.

“I can’t tell you the details,” Luffy says with a frown, “and honestly, I don’t remember most of how it works.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but laugh. It seems Luffy’s capability to bring all the fondness in Zoro to the front and center doesn’t disappear with age.

“Sounds like you.”

Luffy grins at him, looking Zoro up and down. “Ah, I forgot young Zoro was so small and cute! This is so exciting!”

Zoro goes red all the way down to his neck, and wiggles again to try to get out of Luffy’s grasp. “C-cute?”

“Oh!” Luffy says, with raised eyebrows. “Ooooops. I forgot we weren’t there yet back in these days. I’m so bad at remembering dates, that’s why you always get mad when I forget our anniversary…” He lets go of one of Zoro’s arms, and slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Wait.” Finally scrambling out of Luffy’s hold, Zoro gets to his feet in panic. “What do you mean there?”

Luffy pouts. With him sitting on the ground and Zoro standing, it feels a little more normal. He’s not used to having to look up at Luffy.

“Zoro said I’m not supposed to tell you too much.” Luffy studies Zoro’s confused face. “Old Zoro,” he emphasizes. “Don’t worry, you’re still cute when you’re old, too, but I think old Zoro is more sexy and young Zoro is more cute.” That answers none of Zoro’s questions, but Luffy smiles like it does anyway. He leans back on his hands, and the neckline of his shirt spills open to reveal a cross-shaped scar on his chest and a necklace with a single golden pendant. It takes a second, but Zoro recognizes that pendant, and instinctively touches his ear, where a version of it hangs. Oh.

The puzzle pieces in his mind click together.

“We’re in a relationship,” Zoro says, nervous. “You and me? In the future?”

“Well if you guess it, I guess it’s okay to say,” Luffy says, tilting his head to the side. “I mean—well to me, Zoro and I have always been together, in a way, yeah? Since we met. So I forget. But we didn’t start kissing and stuff until later, ‘cause Zoro took forever to figure it out.”

Zoro feels the way his heart tries to escape its ribcage. “...Ah,” is all he manages to get out in response. He swallows every overwhelming swell of emotion that’s trying to push its way out of his throat. “I said I was lonely right now? Future me?”

Luffy gets to his feet again, and he puts his hand on top of Zoro’s head, ruffling his hair. “Yeah. Are you?”

It’s dizzying, Zoro realizes, to be faced with this version of his captain. One more mature, battle-hardened, who has finally grown into a body more befitting of his immense power. Zoro’s always seen so much in him, but he knows not everyone can see in Luffy what he can, and this version of Luffy who looks so much more the part is a reminder of why Zoro’s here, training to be the greatest, in the first place.

Zoro has always had total confidence in it: Luffy is the man who will be the Pirate King, he’d said, before throwing himself into the abyss and refusing to look back. Now, in front of him, stands the proof of his faith.

“I really miss you, Captain,” he says, letting himself be honest. There is no one here to see his weakness except himself and Luffy, and if this Luffy loves him, keeps him by his side in the future, then maybe Zoro can peel back his shell for him. “It’s so hard.”

Wind rustles through the trees, and Luffy’s curly hair flutters in the wind. “Zoro is really so strong,” he says.

“I can be stronger. I have to be.”

Luffy puts a hand on his shoulder, and lifts a finger to play with Zoro’s earrings. “You will be,” he says, and it’s not a promise, but a command. Zoro shudders, and nods, tongue feeling thick in his throat. “He misses you too,” Luffy says. “And it will be worth the wait.”

Zoro slumps forward, lets his head hit Luffy’s chest, and fists his hand in his shirt. “Thank you,” he mumbles, and he keeps clinging to him, like he could fade away at any second.

He feels stupid, and pathetic, and desperate, but not the way he does when Mihawk beats him in a training match and leaves him on the ground with a blade pinned next to his ear. Rather, it’s the kind of idiotic pathetic desperation that only Luffy can bring out of him, the desperation that makes him throw himself into a red bubble of pain for Luffy’s sake, to dive into the ocean after him. The knowledge that he’s met his match, the one man who can command him for the rest of his life. It’s not humiliating, it’s invigorating, dipping into that sensation and welcoming submission with open arms.

“Don’t go,” he says, voice choking.

“Shishishi. Silly Zoro, you know I can’t stay forever,” Luffy laughs, and he cups Zoro’s cheek with a big hand. “But I can stay for a little while longer.”

—

He brings Luffy back to the castle, since no one else is there. The Humandrills watch with mild curiosity as the two of them traipse through Kuraigana’s war-torn ruins, but steer clear, probably because of the combination of both their fear of Zoro and Luffy’s Haki. After a year training with Haki, Zoro still is learning, but even he can sense the way Luffy’s aura is completely different. It’s miles beyond the blast he let out back at the auction house: now it’s like the Conqueror’s Haki is imbued in Luffy’s very being. Zoro’s always known Luffy had the presence of a king, but it seems tactile now.

“I can’t believe this place is where Zoro spent all that time training,” Luffy says when they finally make it to the castle. “It’s so sad and gloomy!”

He is, of course, hungry, so Zoro has taken him into the kitchen to scrounge out food. He wonders if the Luffy of the future has the same appetite or an even larger one—it’s the first and last time he’ll feel bad for the cook. Luffy finds some beef jerky in the pantry (seems he still loves meat just as much as before) and also a bottle of wine, which he hands to Zoro.

“Pour me a glass too,” Luffy says, around the jerky in his mouth.

“You drink now? You hate alcohol,” Zoro says, surprised.

Luffy grins. “Zoro taught me to appreciate it.”

Zoro finds himself blushing, and he’s not even sure why, because it’s barely even a flirtatious comment—but the thought of Luffy, so strong-headed in his likes and dislikes, choosing to learn to appreciate something Zoro loves—his heart goes soft.

He fills up a glass for Luffy, watching the red liquid splash and still wondering to himself if this is all just a vivid dream. Luffy steps up behind him, reaching around Zoro to take the glass, completely caging Zoro's body against the kitchen counter. Zoro feels all the blood in his veins rush to his face in panic as the solid heat of Luffy surrounds him.

“Drinking with Zoro is fun,” Luffy says, taking a sip, but he’s not moving. He places a hand on the countertop instead, bringing his chest close to Zoro’s back. Zoro grabs the bottle of wine, takes a gulp, and turns around so that he can look at Luffy directly. He aims to make his gaze defiant, but the commanding twinkle in Luffy’s eyes pins him down, leaving him feeling pathetic and at his mercy again. Humming, Luffy moves the hand from the countertop to Zoro’s waist, and raises an eyebrow. “Are you shy?”

Zoro’s heart is racing. He imagines whatever future version of himself exists out there, that Luffy knows. The one that gets this level of intimacy from Luffy all the time. He feels strangely jealous of himself—he doesn’t have the patience to wait for a distant future when he wants and craves Luffy so much right now.

Screw it, Zoro thinks, and he stands on his tip-toes, grabs Luffy’s face in his hands, and kisses him. This Luffy—he crossed time itself to come see Zoro, and Zoro’s not going to waste this chance when he has it. He feels Luffy’s face split into a huge idiotic grin against his lips, and then he picks up Zoro, placing him on top of the counter.

There have been many times Zoro and Luffy have almost kissed—quiet nights on both the Merry and the Sunny where Zoro considered it and chickened out at the last second, terrified of what might go wrong. So this kiss with the older, more experienced Luffy, who slides his tongue into Zoro’s mouth and makes his head fuzzy as he cradles his jaw, melts Zoro’s brain a little, like he’s catching up on everything he lost at once. Luffy’s stubble is tickling his skin, and he tastes like wine, and everything is hot and burning and making Zoro feel more alive than he’s felt in the past year.

“Maybe I’m less shy than you thought,” Zoro says, defiant, when Luffy pulls away.

“Zoro’s so cute,” Luffy replies, eyes crinkling as he grins. “Like a baby tiger.”

“Hey!” Zoro frowns, kicking Luffy in the thigh. “Just because you’re bigger than me now doesn’t mean you get to pick on me.”

“I don’t know about that,” says Luffy. He leans in close again, and Zoro feels that heavy, piercing gaze burning right through his chest. “Zoro likes it when I’m a little mean.”

Zoro makes an embarrassing whimpering noise he wasn’t aware he had in him, and kisses Luffy again to hide it. Luffy runs his hands up Zoro’s sides, slipping under his t-shirt and pressing against bare skin and accumulated bruises from training. Zoro feels fragile in this Luffy’s hands, and it's strange. Zoro is not a fragile man, one bit, but there’s something about the way Luffy touches him that makes him feel treasured and delicate.

“If I remember, you used to be really sensitive here,” Luffy says nonchalantly, and he drags a finger down Zoro’s spine under his shirt. Zoro gasps and falls forward, the intimate touch and the feeling of Luffy’s rough skin on the part of himself he protects the most combining to send a spark of pleasure straight to his cock, which has been thickening in his pants already, as hard as he tries to ignore it.

“Luffy,” Zoro pants, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing he wants something, desperation crawling up the back of his neck and leaving his brain sloppy and unable to think straight. He wants to feel Luffy, as close as possible, to take in as much of him as he can to treasure for the next year when he sees him again. He needs this, so bad. He will indulge in his fantasies, this one time. “Can you have me?”

Luffy licks along Zoro’s jawbone, and his stubble scratches Zoro’s cheek. He kisses the tender bit of skin where Zoro’s jaw meets his ear, nose in Zoro’s sideburns, and smiles.

“I already have you,” he teases. “You have to be more specific.”

“Fuck me.”

“Old Zoro told me you’d say that,” Luffy says.

Zoro feels almost annoyed at his future self, and rolls his eyes. “He gets to fuck you all the time, he doesn’t get to judge me.”

Luffy laughs, and places a kiss on Zoro’s forehead. “I’m here to make sure Zoro is less lonely. I’ll do anything he wants.”

—

Luffy insists on carrying Zoro to his room, princess-style. Zoro tries to complain, because it feels extra ridiculous in the luxurious hallways of Mihawk’s castle.

“You didn’t have to do that. I can walk,” he grunts, as Luffy ducks under the door frame to his room.

“Aw, but Zoro’s so little and cute and fun to carry!” Luffy insists, and drops Zoro onto the bed, which is still unmade. He tries his best to smooth out the sheets so that it looks a tad more presentable.

“That growth spurt really went to your head,” Zoro sighs, as Luffy peers around his room.

“Haha, you’re funny. It went to my whole body, stupid!”

Zoro can’t help but laugh at that. “Captain,” he says with a grin, “actually, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Old Zoro always says that, too,” Luffy remarks. He’s heading for the bed when he notices something on the wall, and stops, bursting into laughter. “Zoro!” he exclaims, and he points at the wanted poster and newspaper article on the wall. “You have a crush on me!”

He’s looking at Zoro with the most idiotic look on his face, the same sort of excitement the young Luffy gets about cool beetles, and Zoro feels a conflicting wash of fondness and embarrassment.

“You’re the one who’s been in a relationship with me for thirty something years! Weirdo! Perona is the one who put them up there anyway!” he snaps, fisting the bedsheets between his fingers.

Luffy throws his coat on top of a nearby chair, and jumps onto the bed so hard Zoro hears a nerve-wracking creak. “Zoro likes me,” he coos, huge body caging Zoro against the mattress, until Zoro has nowhere to look but him.

“Yeah, whatever,” Zoro replies, and Luffy gives him a look so heavy with tenderness that it’s as if he’s pulling Zoro’s heart right out of his chest. Zoro can see it, in Luffy’s eyes, decades of persistent, burning love, and he feels almost lightheaded from the prospect of how much he has to look forward to. “Just—” Zoro wiggles against the bedsheets, the pressing weight of Luffy’s attention holding him down, “just hurry, Luffy, please.”

“Zoro likes me so much,” Luffy says, and his hands go to Zoro’s waistband, undoing his jeans. He yanks them down Zoro’s legs in a clean sweep, leaving Zoro suddenly bare and exposed. Next comes the underwear, and Zoro yelps in surprise.

“No foreplay?” Zoro jokes, as Luffy pulls something out of his back pocket.

It’s a little metal tin, and Luffy unscrews it as he looks at Zoro with an almost menacing smile. “Actually, it’s going to be a while until I get to put it in. Takes Zoro a long time to warm up.”

“Huh?” Zoro says, and then his eyes flit down to Luffy’s crotch, where a hard-on is steadily forming. Oh right. Luffy got bigger, so then his dick—he swallows, and takes a deep breath. It isn’t Zoro’s first time; he’s messed around and been through this before, but never with anything as big as what’s in Luffy’s pants.

It should make him nervous. Instead, he’s just excited.

There’s some sort of lotion in the tin, and Luffy scoops some onto his fingers, whistling as he does it with way more whimsy than necessary, before pushing Zoro’s bare legs wide open. He slides his fingers down Zoro’s perineum, and the feeling of cold lotion on his burning hot skin forces a shivery breath out of his lungs.

The tip of one of Luffy’s fingers circles Zoro’s hole. Luffy is looking down at it with a furrowed brow and his tongue poking between his lips in concentration, almost confused. His fingers are so thick and big now, Zoro’s afraid they won’t fit.

Luffy seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he stops and says, “Zoro, you do it.”

Zoro stares at him. “Do what?”

“Finger yourself,” Luffy says, rather matter-of-fact about it. “Don’t you do it all the time on your own?”

Zoro flushes. This is the problem—this version of Luffy already knows all his secrets. On one hand, it’s kind of romantic, thinking about how he and Luffy will continue to forge a deeper trust between the two of them, but on the other, it’s a little humiliating that this Luffy can look right into his eyes, knowing everything about his past, present, and future. Including all the times he fingered himself, apparently.

“It’s embarrassing,” Zoro says, through gritted teeth. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can. C’mon, Zoro.” Luffy grabs Zoro’s wrist from where it lies against the sheets, and guides his hand between his legs. Zoro scrapes at some of the lubricant between his thighs with his fingers, and Luffy keeps staring at him, with an excited smile and wide eyes.

“Don’t stare like that.”

“Awe, but I can’t help it.” Luffy sits back, criss-crossing his legs and holding onto his ankles, like he’s sitting down to watch a very important presentation. “Go on, Zoro.”

Zoro feels the shame and the desperation battle it out within his chest for a brief moment; desperation wins, as always. He sits up with his other arm to get a better angle, and pushes a finger inside himself. If he squeezes his eyes shut, he doesn’t have to see the expectant, joyous look on Luffy’s face as he does so. It’s been a while since Zoro did this to himself, and with the added audience, the pressure is on.

“Very, very good, Zoro,” Luffy’s voice encourages, and just the sound of it tickles Zoro’s ears. He feels Luffy’s warm palm on his thigh, pushing it wider, and Zoro presses his finger deeper. His stomach keeps flexing, and despite the fact that he doesn’t feel any real pleasure yet, he can’t help the small noises he keeps making.

He opens his eyes, and meets Luffy’s gaze again. He’s still grinning like an idiot, watching as Zoro presses a slow finger into himself. Zoro wants to kiss him, but one hand is holding his body up and the other is between his legs, so he just opens his mouth, and somehow Luffy understands.

Luffy leans in close and puts his tongue between Zoro’s lips. Zoro rocks down against his finger as he does, trying to reach the place he wants, but he can’t quite make it happen on his own.

“Hm,” Luffy says as he pulls away, “It might be easier if you were more relaxed.”

“I’m trying to relax!” Zoro snaps, and Luffy laughs.

“No, I mean—” Luffy’s eyes scan across Zoro’s body. “I can help. Can I try something? It might be kind of weird.”

Zoro slides his fingers out of himself. “How weird?”

Luffy thinks for a moment. “Fun weird. We do it all the time together, but experiencing it for the first time might be strange.”

Zoro sighs. “You can do whatever as long as it isn’t gonna hurt me.”

“Definitely won’t hurt,” Luffy says. “Just look at me, that’s all you gotta do.”

“Okay…” Zoro brings his eyes to meet Luffy’s, and feels the intensity of his piercing gaze. It’s off putting, that gaze that makes Zoro weak in the knees mixed with Luffy’s typical puppyish smile.

“Zoro,” Luffy says, and suddenly, the air crackles with static, a heavy burst of energy surrounding them in waves of red electricity, “come for me.”

It’s like Zoro’s brain flatlines for a second—the world just stops, and then it starts again, as a pulsating burst of pleasure runs through him. It starts from behind his eyes and runs all the way to his stomach, and then he comes, hard and fast, spitting white fluid up against the t-shirt he’s still wearing. It buzzes down to his fingers, through every inch of him, and he chokes out a moan as he collapses forward, right into Luffy’s chest. Luffy catches him, and pats the back of his head soothingly as Zoro gets spit on his shirt.

Zoro’s thighs are trembling when Luffy lays him back down against the bed. “Zoro? You there?” he asks. Zoro still feels a little bit like all his nerve endings have been frayed, but he nods.

“Was that—Haki?” Zoro stutters out.

“Uh-huh,” Luffy says, looking way too proud of himself. “Cool, right?”

Zoro’s world still feels tilted off his axis, and somehow, his dick is hard, despite the traces of come dripping down his abs. The fact that Luffy is now so powerful and in control of his Haki to the point that he can use it to play around in the bedroom—it’s hard not to be in awe.

Head fuzzy, still catching his breath, Zoro stares at Luffy above him and can’t help but smile.

Luffy smiles back, and then scoops an arm under Zoro’s legs, lifting him up and leaning his back against his chest. “You should be a little more relaxed now,” he says, and pats Zoro on the thigh.

“No shit,” Zoro slurs, because his brain is still half a melted puddle and his body feels limp with the remnants of orgasm. “You said you do that all the time?”

“Zoro is very needy,” Luffy says, like that answers it, and he slides his big hand under Zoro’s cum-streaked t-shirt, lifting it over his head. Zoro lifts his arms in defeat—it feels a tad embarrassing to be completely naked in the arms of a fully-clothed Luffy, but again, who else is here to see his shame except Luffy himself?

Luffy’s hard-on is pressing against his back, and Zoro remembers why he needed to be relaxed in the first place. He puts his hand back between his thighs and stuffs his finger back inside. He finds it a lot easier this time, because he’s not thinking as hard about it, especially with the heat of Luffy’s cock present behind him. One orgasm cleared away a good amount of his anxieties, and now all he can think is I want that thing in me, so, so bad.

A second finger goes in, no trouble at all, and he glances up at Luffy, who has just been watching with interest as he holds Zoro’s thighs open. “I think you can do it now,” he says.

Luffy strokes the stubble on his chin in thought, pushing Zoro’s legs even wider, the stretch burning through the muscle. He probes a testing finger at Zoro’s hole, and then makes a pleased noise when it slips in.

“Good job!” he says, and Zoro feels like the skin on the back of his neck is on fire. It really would be demeaning if it was anyone else, except that it’s Luffy, and so it sets his stomach on fire with want.

Luffy’s finger pushes in, already going much further than Zoro could reach before, and Zoro’s leg flails as it summons a spark of pleasure. He still is oversensitive from the previous orgasm, and each time Luffy moves his finger, Zoro can feel himself clench down. Luffy uses his other free hand to grab at Zoro’s bare chest.

Zoro’s never played with his nipples, and plenty of guys have tried it before during sex, but he never really felt anything from it. Yet when Luffy drags his pointer finger over one and then pinches it, Zoro makes a little whine as the sensation goes straight to his dick.

“Zoro’s always had such a lewd body,” Luffy remarks casually, curling his finger inside Zoro.

“It’s just because it’s you touching me, idiot!” Zoro grits out, and then realizes how embarrassingly honest that was and bites down on his bottom lip to stifle any more far-too-truthful admissions. Luffy’s finger presses up against his prostate right as he does, and Zoro swallows a moan.

Luffy’s rocking his hips a little, hard-on pressing hard against Zoro’s back in a solid reminder of what’s to come. He teeths at Zoro’s shoulders and then licks along the shell of his ear, laughing when Zoro shivers.

“This is fun,” Luffy says as a second finger pushes into Zoro’s body and Zoro’s stomach clenches at the stretch, “‘Cause I already know all of Zoro’s sensitive spots. You’re very easy to tease.”

Zoro doesn’t even have a snappy reply for that, too busy trying to fight all the humiliating noises threatening to work their way out of him and trying his best to push Luffy’s fingers deep inside. “Can’t you put it in already?” he asks. The Luffy Zoro knows does not have as much patience as this one, and he’s honestly surprised the Luffy currently in his bed hasn’t attempted to stick his dick in already.

“Nope.” Luffy grabs the tin of lotion again and scoops out another hefty portion. “Gotta fit at least four fingers at first.”

Zoro looks down at the massive hand currently two fingers deep in him, and then back up at Luffy. “Four?”

“I told you, it takes a long time to warm up! But you can take it. Zoro always takes it so well.”

Zoro feels a little dizzy. “Just—put a third one in.” He doesn’t know if he can make it without coming again—Luffy’s fingers scrape at his insides with a kind of careless precision that shows how many times he must do this on the regular. His toes are curling and Luffy keeps nipping at spots on his skin—behind his ear, along his neck, his collarbone—that leave him sensitive and shaking.

Luffy obliges Zoro’s request, adding more lotion and a third finger with an obscene squelch. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a burning stretch for sure that leaves Zoro trembling with his hands grasping at Luffy’s clothing like that might tether him back to sanity.

Zoro tips his head back against Luffy’s chest, panting. “I think I’m gonna come again, Luffy, Luffy—”

“Mmh, that’s okay. You can come as many times as you like,” Luffy says, as his fingers rub right against the part that gets Zoro’s eyes rolling into the back of his skull. He bends his head forward to meet Zoro, holding onto his chin with his free hand, and gives him a messy kiss that’s mostly just tongue and spit.

Zoro wants to tell Luffy that it’s not an issue of whether or not he’s allowed to come and more an issue of just how much his dick can take without simply breaking, but the words don’t make their way out. He’s got no time to speak because he’s coming again, clenching on Luffy’s fingers and choking on his tongue, and he only stays sitting up because Luffy wraps an arm around his chest and holds him straight.

Luffy kisses Zoro’s cheek. “Almost there,” he says. Zoro feels stretched so thin, peeled open raw, but it’s addictive, even in the trembling aftermath of his second orgasm.

“Fourth finger,” he makes out, feeling like his tongue is thick and heavy in his mouth. He’s sincerely impressed at Luffy’s patience—Zoro’s sense of time is starting to slip away as he loses himself in what Luffy’s giving him, but it seems like it’s been quite a while, and Luffy’s dick has been poking him in the back the entire time.

“Okay, hold on,” says Luffy, and then his fingers are gone all of a sudden, leaving Zoro clenching around nothing. He’s so focused on the sensation of hollowness in his stomach that his brain barely registers he’s being manhandled onto his back again, and Luffy is settling between his legs. Zoro is now faced with looking Luffy in the eyes again, which makes his heart burst in his chest. He wishes he could blame the overwhelming sensation making eye contact with Luffy causes on his Haki—but Zoro knows he gets that when he looks at his Luffy, the one he fell in love with in the first place, too.

“What are you doing?” Zoro says, trying his best to sit up on his elbows, but finding even his biceps tremble when he tries to support himself.

Luffy uses two fingers to spread Zoro’s hole, and then he gives Zoro a knowing smile and licks.

Zoro makes a noise of embarrassment, and grabs Luffy’s hair on instinct, not sure how to react. “Luffy—you don’t have to—”

Two fingers slide in next to Luffy’s tongue, then it’s three, and Zoro gasps, back arching off the bed. It’s one thing to have Luffy’s hands working him open, but it’s entirely another when Luffy is tasting him directly. It’s dirty, and it makes Zoro’s face burn, but he wants it so deeply at the same time. It makes everything between Zoro’s legs even sloppier, wetter, like he’s melting from the inside out. Luffy presses in the fourth finger and Zoro can barely think, can’t even look. He’s being pushed to the edges of what he thought pleasure could feel like. (Once again, he can’t help but feel jealous of his future self.)

“There we go,” Luffy says, pulling his face away from between Zoro’s thighs. “Sometimes I put my whole hand in there,” his pinky curls as it pushes in and Zoro keens, “but I think I’m impatient today.”

Zoro hears the noise of buttons snapping undone and exhales a shaky breath. Luffy takes out his cock and—oh wow. Luffy is not shy, Zoro knows what his dick looks like, and this is much, much bigger. Luffy pulls off his shirt too, yanks down his pants, and now he’s about as naked as Zoro is, and Zoro can really take in all the changes to his figure: years of built-up muscle, that cross-shaped scar across his chest, other scars that dot his body all over over rough, tanned, skin.

Luffy strokes himself a few times, with a cocky smile. “Ready?” he asks.

“Always, Captain,” Zoro answers, and he spreads his legs wide. Missionary position is a somewhat embarrassing choice, but right now, he does really treasure seeing Luffy’s face. He’s got to savor it.

From the moment Luffy presses himself against Zoro’s entrance, all Zoro can think is nevermind, there’s no way this can fit. He sends thoughts and prayers to his future self and tries to steady his breathing as Luffy’s tip pushes into his hole. He’s stretched so wide already and yet it still feels like a tight fit. The burn of it is addicting—Zoro’s not going to deny he’s a bit of a masochist, and this sensation of Luffy digging his way into him is dancing that delicious border between pain and pleasure he craves so much.

It must be all the way in, Zoro thinks, as he stares up at Luffy’s face, because he feels so, so full, in a way he’s never felt in his life. Meanwhile, Luffy is looking down between Zoro’s legs, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Well,” Luffy says, “that’s half of it…”

Zoro almost chokes. “Half?”

“Usually four fingers is enough,” Luffy pouts. “But I guess Old Zoro usually gets fucked more so he’s… more open, I guess.”

“Gross,” Zoro groans, and he clenches his jaw. “Just—keep pushing. I can take it.”

“I think maybe Zoro needs to be a little more relaxed, first,” Luffy says, and now that Zoro knows what that means, he feels himself clench around Luffy’s cock in anticipation. “Heh, you like that, don’t you?” Luffy’s hand goes on Zoro’s waist, gripping at his side. “Want to go again?”

“Just do it,” replies Zoro, and his fingers dig into the bedsheets.

“Hm, okay,” says Luffy, and then he digs his thumb into Zoro’s skin. “Zoro, come.”

It turns out knowing the orgasm is coming doesn’t make it any less impactful—in fact, it might be worse. This time, nothing even comes out of his dick. Instead, pleasure rockets straight from the base of Zoro’s spine and floods the inside of his skull. As the crackle of Luffy’s Haki fills the air, he hears the bedsheets rip from just how hard he yanks on them. Luffy keeps him from moving too much with a firm hold, and before Zoro can even think straight, his dick is moving deeper inside, all while Zoro’s insides are still twitching and spit is still pooling under his tongue.

“I think m’gonna die,” Zoro says, coming out more as a slurry rather than separate words, and Luffy laughs, patting Zoro’s leg.

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen,” he says. “Look, Zoro.” He presses his fingers against Zoro’s stomach.

Zoro barely has the energy to raise his head, but when he does, he can see, firstly, that Luffy’s dick is almost all the way inside, and he swears that where Luffy’s fingers press against his skin, he can see the outline of Luffy’s dick in his stomach.

Maybe it’s just some post-orgasm hallucination, he’s barely sure anymore, but it adds to the sensation of his insides being truly pushed apart, like he’s being split open for Luffy to fit inside, and the thought of that is a little more than he can handle.

“Shit,” is all he manages, head tossing back against the pillow. Luffy leans down and licks his tongue along the scar that stripes down Zoro’s chest, hands securing themselves at the back of Zoro’s thighs so that he can spread him wide and make the final push inside.

Zoro feels—well, he feels a lot of things. Dizzying remnants of pleasure, addictive stretch and burning flashes of pain, and a fullness that no meal could ever compete with. It’s all combining to stir his brain around into mush. All he can think about is Luffy; Luffy’s cock, Luffy’s hands on his skin, the tickle of Luffy’s stubble as he kisses Zoro’s chest, the ever-present comforting press of Luffy’s Haki. All of it is there, around him and in him, like he’s craved for a whole year, and it’s a bit overwhelming.

“Zoro, are you okay?” Luffy asks, and Zoro stares at him through blurry eyes.

“Yeah?” he says, confused.

Luffy reaches out a hand and wipes away something trickling down Zoro’s cheek. “You’re crying.”

Confused, Zoro puts his fingers to his cheeks and realizes he is, in fact, tearing up. He hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m okay,” he mumbles, and he reaches up to lace his fingers behind Luffy’s neck. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Luffy says, so effortlessly sweet. He pets Zoro’s hair, and Zoro almost hates how comforting it feels, how simply it grounds him in the moment. Then Luffy shifts a little, and his cock moves with him, and Zoro forgets literally everything else.

“Just start moving,” he says, furrowing his brow and trying to roll his face against the sheets to rub the tears away.

“Baby tiger,” Luffy whispers, and he tugs on Zoro’s ear to get him back to facing him. “So cute.”

Zoro’s face burns, and right as he’s about to complain about being called cute again, Luffy moves, dragging his cock back at a slow, torturous pace. “Zoro’s still so tight,” Luffy says, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Feels so good inside, like always.”

Like always makes Zoro’s heart skip a stupid little beat, and he digs his fingers into the skin of Luffy’s neck in response. He still feels like he’s been speared open, but at the same time it’s like his insides are welcoming Luffy now, getting used to his presence.

When Luffy pushes back in the next time, the head of his cock gouges up against Zoro’s prostate, and despite the oversensitivity of his body and the three orgasms already, it makes him gasp. Luffy fucks like someone whose had a lot of practice doing it, moving his hips in a careful way that shows his maturity.

“You can be rough with me,” Zoro says, forgetting that Mihawk will be back tomorrow and he’ll be training, which he needs working legs for, forgetting everything but the way it feels for Luffy’s massive cock to scrape along his deepest, untouched parts. “Just take me, Captain.”

Luffy pants, looking down at him with a manic glint in his eyes. “You gotta stop saying that,” he says.

“Saying what?” Zoro asks, wrapping his leg around Luffy’s back.

“Captain.” Luffy licks his lips. “‘Cause now when I go back and the crew calls me that, I’m gonna start getting horny.”

Zoro laughs. “That's your problem,” he rolls his hips against Luffy, trying to force his cock deeper inside, “Captain.”

Luffy grabs Zoro’s hip and plants an arm by his head, and jerks forward until he reaches somewhere that gets Zoro’s spine arching. “Zoro’s so bad,” he mutters, as if he doesn’t even really intend for Zoro to hear it.

Zoro crosses his ankles and grips Luffy’s shoulders, and lets Luffy have his way with him. Even when Luffy’s movements gain selfishness and shed their practice, it still feels like he’s making sure to push against every part of Zoro that sets his nerve endings off in a loop of sweet, fuzzy pleasure.

Staring up at him, Zoro sees the necklace around Luffy’s neck swaying, the golden pendant on the end swinging back and forth like a pendulum. A strange desire bursts in Zoro’s chest and he catches it between his teeth, feeling the cold metal on his tongue. Luffy looks surprised, but then he just kisses Zoro, licking around where the pendant sits between Zoro’s teeth and stealing it back with a swipe of his tongue.

As if in revenge, Luffy spits the pendant out and kisses down Zoro’s cheek until he reaches his ear, taking Zoro’s three matching earrings in his mouth. Zoro’s always found his ears to be strangely sensitive, and the raw intimacy of the way Luffy nibbles at his earlobe gets him squirming against the bedsheets.

“Lu-Luffy,” he whispers, unsure of what to say or what to ask for, just enjoying being able to say his captain’s name with the knowledge he’s there to listen.

“I got you, Zoro,” Luffy says back, right into Zoro’s ear, and then Zoro comes.

It takes a second for him to even register that it happens. He doesn’t feel the usual build-up, the rising sensation of oncoming orgasm, he just suddenly comes, all over his stomach, and looks down at his now-limp dick in shock.

“Woah!” Luffy seems rather giddy about it as he keeps moving, sliding a finger through the remnants of Zoro’s come that puddles on his abs. He doesn’t stop fucking him, just pushes him through the burn of overstimulation. “Does Zoro mind if I keep going?”

“You can do whatever,” Zoro replies, closing his eyes. It feels like the words are just sliding out of his mouth, every part of him too limp to work properly. “M’yours.”

Luffy puts both hands on Zoro’s waist (Zoro tries not to feel dizzy at the way they almost circle all the way around) and hefts his hips off the bed sheets, driving his dick into Zoro over and over. Zoro feels practically boneless, like he’s the one made out of rubber, with the way Luffy drags him and uses his body to get off, and he wishes he didn’t like it so much.

“Can you come inside?” Zoro asks, feeling a little pathetic about it. His eyes are still closed, so when suddenly he feels Luffy’s cheek against his and the heat of his skin as Luffy gets close, he makes a noise of surprise.

“I always come inside,” Luffy says, pressing a kiss to Zoro’s left eyelid. “Zoro’s always begging for it.”

Mentally, Zoro curses out his future self for being such a slut, but he finds himself clenching around Luffy’s cock, anyway. (He tries to disregard the possibility that maybe he’s just always been this much of a slut.)

“Zoro, look at me,” Luffy says, and Zoro forces his eyes open again, feeling them brimming with tears once more. It’s too much to look at Luffy, to take in all his handsome features, to know some version of the man above him is across the ocean somewhere at the same time. “So pretty,” Luffy mutters. “Always have been so pretty, Zoro.”

Pretty is not a word Zoro thinks of himself as, neither is cute. He’s battle-hardened, a monster with the blade that seeks blood. No one thinks of him this way but Luffy. It’s not like it’s a new development that comes with this older, more mature Luffy, it’s always been that way. Zoro’s Luffy calls him cute the same way too, when he overstuffs his cheeks with food or falls asleep in a weird spot on the ship. Zoro aches so hard, and his nails scrape into Luffy’s back with force.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Don’t leave me. Can’t you just stay for the rest of the year until we all meet again?”

Luffy laughs, and there’s something in the way he does that reminds Zoro of how many miles ahead he is in experience, in maturity. “You know I can’t,” he says, dragging a hand down Zoro’s chest and to his stomach, “but I can make sure you don’t forget about me.” He presses his fingers right into where his dick pushes against Zoro’s prostate, and Zoro’s toes curl. “Mmh, I’m getting close.”

Zoro tries to meet Luffy’s thrusts, but it’s hard when all his limbs feel like jelly. Luffy pushes in so hard Zoro’s almost convinced he can feel his dick in his throat, and then Luffy comes. It’s hot, so hot, and Zoro felt full before but now he’s practically bursting at the seams. The noise Luffy makes when he lets himself come inside of Zoro is like a rough growl that turns Zoro on way more than it should. Zoro grips his own dick, jerking himself off to the sensation of being filled up and pulling one more twitchy, barely-there orgasm out of himself.

When Luffy pulls his dick out, Zoro is suddenly reminded of just how stretched wide he is, especially as Luffy’s come spills out of his hole onto the sheets. He can’t move—he feels like his body is glued to the bed, muscles heavy as lead and head spinning in circles. Luffy drops his entire body weight on top of Zoro, face in his chest, and Zoro loses the ability to breathe for a second as Luffy crushes him.

“Luffy,” he pants, “you can’t—you’re too big to do that now.”

Luffy rests his chin between Zoro’s breasts and grins at him. Like this, even with the wrinkles around his eyes and facial hair and air of maturity, he still reminds Zoro of a big, friendly dog. It would be endearing if he hadn’t just pumped an entire load into Zoro and left him so cum-drunk he can barely think. Whatever.

“Zoro gets so cute and sulky after I come in him,” Luffy says, and Zoro feels all the blood rush to his face.

“Gross! You’re gross!” Zoro exclaims as Luffy bursts into a fit of laughter and buries his face in Zoro’s chest. “Old pervert,” scoffs Zoro, but he still finds himself petting Luffy’s sweaty tangle of hair anyway. Fondness for Luffy is inescapable, no matter when or where.

“I could probably go again,” Luffy says, sitting up and glancing around the room, “but I don’t think Zoro could take it.”

“Tch. Is that a challenge?”

Luffy just laughs, mussing with Zoro’s hair until he makes a grumbling noise and buries his face in the pillow. “Cute! And sulky!” he exclaims, and hops off the bed, still completely naked. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall,” Zoro says, muffled by the pillow. Then he lets out a surprised squawk as Luffy wraps an arm around his waist, lifts him up, and tosses him over his shoulder.

He groans some feeble protest, but Luffy just slaps his ass and then carries him to the bathroom, getting the hot water running right away on the fancy clawfoot tub. (This is the bathroom Perona and Zoro share, as they both refuse to touch Mihawk’s bizarre empty one downstairs.) Zoro wants to complain that he doesn’t need this kind of special, tender treatment, but he also knows that if he tries to stand on his own two legs right now they’ll collapse in on themselves.

Luffy lowers Zoro into the hot water and then gets in after him so that Zoro can lean against his chest. It’s still extremely daunting, the way Luffy is simply so big now. When Zoro first met Garp, he could hardly believe he would ever be related to Luffy by sheer comparison of size, but now he realizes the Monkey family must just have very late growth spurts. As much as Zoro loves the Luffy he knows, whose small body hides an incomprehensible amount of strength, there is something equally comforting about a Luffy that can wrap himself around Zoro without even having to stretch.

Steam rising from the water, Luffy whistling as he rests his chin on Zoro’s head, he’s faced with the bizarre reality he’s living in: held in the arms of his time-traveling captain who he hasn’t even been able to see for a year. The idea that the Luffy of the future cares enough about him to visit him when he’s at his lowest, and that the Zoro of the future can be honest enough to admit when his lowest was—well, it’s actually quite a comforting thought. It gives Zoro a horizon to look towards when he doesn’t have his captain physically there to guide him.

Zoro tries to get out of the bath by himself, and predictably, falls over on the floor, legs immediately giving up on him. It makes Luffy laugh, and he gets out of the tub to carry Zoro back into his room, tucking him under his sheets. Zoro wants to protest that he doesn’t want to sleep naked, because Mihawk’s castle is incredibly drafty, but he’s also lacking remotely any energy. Luffy, meanwhile, gets his clothes back on, buttoning back up his pants and pulling his shirt back over his head.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you,” Zoro says, trying not to come off too bitter. He knows, deep down, that this isn’t his Luffy yet. This Luffy has a time, a place, a duty. A throne to fill. Another version of Zoro to keep company.

Luffy sits down on the bed as he slips on his sandals, nodding. “You know I have to, at some point.” He reaches out, and messes with Zoro’s still-damp hair. “But hey, this was pretty fun, right?”

Zoro flushes. “Yeah.”

“Is Zoro feeling less lonely?”

Zoro doesn’t know how to articulate how he feels: he feels whole again, feels reminded of the reasons why he does this, why he chose to be a pirate. He feels like he can remember why he fell in love with Luffy back when they first met. He feels picked apart, seen right through by Luffy, just like he always has.

He’s pretty bad at articulating that kind of stuff though, so he just nods, and gets up to kiss Luffy one last time, trying to memorize how it feels.

Luffy gets off the bed, and puts on his coat. “When Zoro sees me next,” he says, bending down to press a kiss on Zoro’s forehead. “You better kiss me. That Luffy out there’s been waiting for it. Promise?”

“I promise.” Zoro swallows the burn of emotion at the back of his throat. “Hey Luffy…”

Luffy’s about halfway to the door, but he turns to give Zoro a look.

“Yeah?”

He inhales, and starts: “I lo—”

“No, no, no,” Luffy interrupts. “Save it for when you see him again. He needs to hear it more than me.”

“...Alright.” Zoro can’t help but smile. “Bye, then.”

“See you soon,” Luffy returns, with a big goofy grin. “Love you too, Zoro!” he shouts, as he heads out the door, and Zoro’s whole face goes red.

He buries his face in his pillow. He’s going to have a lot to deal with tomorrow, the aching pain in his lower back included, but for now he just basks in the sensation of Luffy, the remaining warmth and smell of him in the room.

He will be okay. One more year is nothing, when it’s for the Pirate King.

—

(The next morning, he doesn’t bother getting the newspaper.)