Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Zoro turns up for his shift, the bar door is already unlocked.

Zeff's behind the bar, scribbling on the match board.

"New one tonight, kid," Zeff says, "Keep an eye out, yeah?"

"Right," Zoro says, throwing his stuff around the corner. 

"Knockoff Rock still the main match?" Zoro says, looking up at the board.

"Say what you like, samurai," Zeff says, flicking him with his paperwork, "He's a crowd pleaser."

"Low standards," Zoro mutters, ignoring the barb. Zeff may be old-school, but he only says shit like that to get a rise.

"Payin' your wage," Zeff returns. Zoro snorts. He starts prepping the bar, checking the lines. Zeff mumbles angrily at the tablet, jabbing the screen with his big fingers, probably fucking up all the ordering. It's a peaceful afternoon, all things considered.

"You want Sanji tonight?" Zeff asks him, as people start trickling in. There's the one old dude who still seems to think they're a normal pub, and sits in the corner with his lager until the fruitier crowd arrives. 

"No," Zoro says, slicing the lemon with more force than strictly necessary.

"You might need him," Zeff says, "Lookin' like a big crowd."

"Not wanting him in your kitchen doesn't mean he's useful here," Zoro says. 

Zeff snorts. 

One of the waitstaff pokes her head through the door between the restaurant and bar, and Zeff leaves him in peace.

Zoro's alone in the bar tonight, which is going to be a shit-show, but it's still preferable to watching Sanji spend twenty minutes at a time flirting while he fondles glacé cherries and uses too much Cointreau. Zeff will send him someone over to keep the glasses and jugs under control, but he's hoping everyone wants beer. 

There's a kid at the bar in a mask that wants milk. 

"You got ID?" Zoro says, instead of just telling him to fuck off. He's wearing a hat, which is only marginally less stupid looking than the mask. Zoro would be more worried he was getting robbed, but the kid has arms like sticks and smiles at him. Also, masks aren't off the table in a place like this.

"No," the kid says, conspiratorial, "I'm incognito." There's more than a trace of an accent, and Zoro reassesses his tan, and the mask. 

"You got any money, El Santo?" Zoro says. 

The kid laughs, sounding delighted. Zoro frowns, because it's not his best work. More of a Zeff jab. Low-hanging fruit. 

Zoro watches, horrified, as the kid pulls out a velcro wallet, and gives him a crumpled five-dollar note.

"Is that enough?" the kid says.

"Are you here with someone, or-?" Zoro says, glancing around. Hoping, faintly, that a responsible adult will appear to car-pool the kid away. 

"Oh," the kid says, "No. Just me." He's turning red under his mask. Zoro squints at him. 

"I've only got coconut milk," Zoro says. Or Baileys, but he's not serving a minor. 

"Maybe just lemonade?" the kid says hopefully. Zoro rolls his eyes and gives him a pint glass of premix with ice. Zoro serves a few giggly girls at the other end of the bar, and wipes the counter slowly, watching the kid swing his feet under the bar stool and take up prime real estate right in front of where Zoro usually stands. 

Maybe he's a Knockoff Rock fan. It gets busy, and Zoro forgets about the kid, who sits quietly and watches people. Watches Zoro, but he's used to that now- being the most popular guy in the room because he's behind the bar. It took some getting used to. 

It's only after the DJ sets up and starts playing the build-up music, and Zeff comes back through the door in his costume, that he realises the kid isn't here to watch the show. He's here to perform. 

Zoro watches, caught between amusement and concern, as the kid stretches and flexes and gets ready to take on the other warm-up opponent, a six-foot-three guy with a bad mullet and crooked handlebar moustache, like a cheap Hulk Hogan. He's got webbed fingers, and a peek of gills under his pantyhose ski mask. 

That's what brings the crowd in. Not the barely-choreographed wrestling matches and half-assed kayfabe. Not even the spectacle of the masks and outfits, which are sometimes actually interesting. It's that there's not many places lay people can openly gawk and mutter at mutants anymore. 

Zoro couldn't stand it, the first few times he came in, sniffing around for information on a mark. Zeff had Sanji behind the bar most of the time then, and another guy- long-gone now the way of Arlong after Zeff caught him trying to put something in a girl's drink. The wrestling matches just seemed like a repackaged freak show. 

Big Momma caught him by the scruff of the neck one night after the show and made him rethink his position on the power balance in Zeff's bar. Zoro never went anywhere without Kuina's knife, but he couldn't do anything but struggle, desperately, when she squeezed so hard he was sure she'd already snapped his neck, and asked him what a nice young man like you is doing breaking into our bar. 

Zoro doesn't have any flashy mutations. He's faster than most people, strong enough to be kind of suspicious. Some other things. Nothing dramatic enough to show off, even when he was a kid. Koushirou never gets them tested unless there's something obvious, something they can't get away with living stealth. It's not a legal requirement here. 

The kid better have something impressive, because the fish guy has been a pretty steady heel on and off for eight months, and likes snapping fingers and toes when he can get away with it. Zeff doesn't like bloody matches when it's not him in the ring, and he perma-bans anyone who deals a major injury. Little broken bones don't really count though. 

"Who's the new guy?" one of the regulars say, leaning over into Zoro's space. He's young, and has been trying to get Zoro's number for three weeks, keeps asking if he has "insta". Zoro rolls his eyes, leaning away. 

"Dunno," Zoro says, and heads down the other end of the bar like he saw someone trying to order. 

It is a pretty good crowd, and Zeff has someone at the door taking sweaty five and ten-dollar notes. It's not a big money-maker, just something for people like Big Momma to do, to show off. Remind people that mutants exist, and they're not like on the news. There's a drag show sometimes too, bingo and things like that. The kinds of things that get a bit of a different crowd. 

Plus, Zeff just seems to like wearing a costume. 

Zoro watches the build up, the dramatic announcements. Zeff's in his element, sparkly silver jumpsuit and big red cape. He reads the heel in, who does his posturing, and obligingly, the crowd boos and hisses. 

Zoro leans against the bar, props himself on a stool, as everyone turns to the action. There'll be a lull, and then everyone will decide all at once that they want drinks, but there's nothing much Zoro can do about it. He rests his feet while he can.

"And now- a new contender-" Zeff roars, waving the kid over. The kid's been hanging off the ropes on the side for the past fifteen minutes, jiggling his legs like small child who needs the bathroom. It's cute, maybe, that he's so excited, but Zoro's pretty sure he's going to get his ass handed to him in the first five minutes. 

They should, in theory, have a choreographed fight, but fish guy doesn't go down unless Zeff pays him off pretty well. This might, actually, be a real match. 

"What's that say?" Zeff says, looking at the card and leaning down so the kid can whisper in his ear. It's all spectacle, dramatised to make the crowd giggle. Zeff's good at it though, makes it all look real. 

"That's a stupid name, kid," Zeff says, loud enough to be picked up by the microphone. The kid looks genuinely upset, waving his arms and trying to says things. Zoro can't tell if he's acting- if this is a bit. The girls in feather boas at this end of the bar love it though, cooing. The old guys start yelling get on with it. Fish guy's flexing and doing stupid poses, dancing around the ring. 

"How old is he?" one of the girls say to their friend. 

Zoro glances over. It's a good question- Zoro doesn't think Zeff would take on an actual kid. They're usually pretty paltry matches, in the grand scheme of things, but it's still dangerous. Especially when there's a mutant with something more than just flashy. Out of water, the fish guy is mostly just strong. He's not allowed to bite, thank goodness. Zoro is the one that has to mop the bar. 

The kid's gotta be at least eighteen, maybe twenty-one if Zeff's getting technical about his insurance.

"Nah, I'm not doin' that," Zeff declares, "You're gettin' a new name." 

The kid jumps up and down and waves his arms at Zeff, who lifts him up over the side of the ring and pushes him forward, one arm in the air. The kid bounces, landing on his feet. 

"Welcome the newest member to our roster!" Zeff roars, waving a glittery arm, "All the way from the land of Lucha Libre itself!" 

Zoro holds his breath along with the rest of the crowd, willing to play. It's more fun like that, and no one's watching Zoro anymore. 

"No Sombrero!" Zeff shouts, and the crowd loses it, hooting and hollering. 

Zoro groans. It's not the worst Zeff's done, but Zoro can tell from the laughter that the name's going to stick. The kid is Mexican, and has a straw hat. Wrong shape though. The height of comedic entertainment. There's two guys in the corner than Zoro knows for a fact are from Ecatepec, and they're rolling around the booth laughing. The two jugs of backhanded panda probably helped. 

Zeff jumps over the rungs, the ring too small to referee from inside. He's surprisingly limber for an old man with a prosthetic leg. He puts on the shiny jumpsuit, and the limp disappears. 

Zoro gets busy, people rushing the bar to get a drink before the action really kicks off. The kid and the fish guy dance around each other, waiting for the bell. Zoro misses the opening, too busy mixing jugs. He glances over when the crowd shouts, and drops his fruit tongs in the strawberry daquiri. 

The kid is stretched out between the ropes- like, actually stretched, like a rubber band. 

Zeff's shouting, hand hovering over the bell, and the kid listens to the warning, and rolls sideways instead of launching off the ropes. Zeff doesn't really care that much about disqualifying people for using the ropes as leverage, but it's poor form if they're pretending to do Lucha Libre properly. Also, it's far more entertaining now the kid's shown his hand. An easy fight is a boring one.

Zoro fishes his tongs out with the spare pair, because the old lady's lipstick is crooked and she's already giving him a stink eye. 

Zoro's not normally thrown by the mutants Zeff manages to collect. It's rare to see someone really special in a place like this though- they're usually out in the world being superstars, or committing rampant crime. Zoro dumps the jug on the bar and accepts the woman's limp twenty dollar note, and even limper thanks. 

"Is this one for the Mighty Mackerel?" Zeff shouts, and Zoro looks up in time to see the kid manage to rubberise himself out of the fish guy's signature headlock. He's flexible, giving the fish guy a run for his money. The crowd cheers as the kid flips himself backwards once, twice, one hand on his hat and springing up into the air with a bounce. 

Zoro can't help it- he watches the kid, does some maths. The bounty would be high enough to get out of bed, anyway. He can feel his heartrate pick up, and it's not because the old guy at the end of the bar starts tapping his debit card on the counter. 

Nojiko says he's fucked in the head. Sanji agrees, but is less affectionate about it. Zoro's out of that game now, not taking bounties any more. Still, mutants walk in, and he weighs up how much he'd charge. How much they might be worth, if they went out into the world and did something the government didn't like. How hard it would be to take them down. 

Zoro pours the old man a beer, perfect head with a flourish, because he's petty as fuck but he has professional pride, and cranes his neck to keep watching the match. There's two mirrors in the corners, so people can see better. The convex shine warps the kid's limbs out even weirder. The kid's losing, the space too small for him to use his rubbery arms and legs to his advantage when Zeff shouts at him every time he leans back on the ropes. 

Zoro looks around at the crowd, the avid interest. The way people lean around the corner to gawk even while they're still paying at the door. If the kid can last another five minutes, Zeff will put him on the roster. He's the right kind of freaky. 

"Hey honey," Big Momma says, leaning in past Zoro to grab a lemon slice, "What's your bet?"

"Lose," Zoro says, smacking the furred back of her hand. She laughs, licking the lemon slice and shoving it between sharp teeth. Big Momma is the kind of mutant that people cross the street to avoid. She's beautiful, in a deeply terrifying wolf-woman kind of way. The two tradies at the bar next to her shuffle away. Zoro starts mixing her Bloody Mary. 

"I think you'll be surprised," Big Momma says, smiling at the ring. She's a head taller than everyone. The crowd ripples and swells, shouting as something happens in the ring.

Zoro watches the kid climb the fish guy's shoulders and loop round and round like a boa constrictor. Zeff looks like he's thinking about calling foul, but people aren't booing so much as yahoo-ing, and it's only the warm-up match anyway. The kid laughs joyfully, gleefully, like he's on a merry-go-round, lights catching on the cheap glitter in his mask. The fish guy groans loud enough for Zoro to hear, and flops over, passed out.

"You know him?" Zoro says, leaning in more as the crowd goes wild. Big Momma's ear twitches, and she looks down at him, tilting her head.

"What's that look, sugar?" she says, "You want an introduction?"

"No," Zoro says, frowning. Big Momma reaches out and flicks his earring with a sharp nail. Zoro lets her, because if he bitches, she'll read into it. Ever since she shacked up with someone steady, she's been trying to match-make everyone in a ten-mile radius. 

"Just wondered if he's legal to order at the bar," Zoro mutters, re-filling the paper straws. Big Momma smiles at him, and sips her drink. The tomato juice stains her lips redder. 

Zoro gets busy again inbetween the matches, and mostly forgets about No Sombrero.

Two days later, the phone in the bar rings. 

Zoro's trying to make sense of the note the sous chef left on the counter, something about using wine in a dish, and stares blankly at the landline. The number isn't advertised anywhere. Zoro didn't even know it was connected. The caller doesn't give up, and the phone rings out after what feels like a century. Zoro goes back to his note. 

The phone rings again. 

"What?" Zoro snaps into the mouthpiece. 

There's an awkward silence at the end of the line.

"Um," says a tinny voice that's weirdly familiar, "Hi. I am looking for Nami?"

"Nami?" Zoro says. Nojiko's sister?

"This isn't the strip club," Zoro says. Do strip clubs even have landlines? 

"Oh," the voice says, "Sorry. I'll check the number."

Zoro expects them to hang up.

"Hey," the voice says after a moment, "Is this the bar. With the wrestling?"

"Yeah," Zoro says, squinting as he tries to place the voice. The phone line is crackly. Kaya owns the bar, restaurant, the kebab shop next door, and the strip club. Maybe they're all on the same phone line or something. 

"Oh, well," the voice says slowly, "What did you think of the other night?"

"What?" Zoro says. Does Nami do phone sex now? He thought she was out of the game. Stripping was her version of going straight, like bartending was Zoro's version of going sober. Every time Zoro cuts off another sad-sack, dead-eyed loser after they start drooling on his bar, he's reminded why he doesn't drink anymore. 

He also needs the job to escape Nojiko, who rented him the apartment next door to her after the Arlong affair under the condition that he changes her lightbulbs and lets her practice her new ropes on him. It had seemed like a low-chance dice roll when he said yes. Turns out it's a fortnightly occurrence, or more often when she thinks he "needs attention". Like he's a plant that requires constant spritzing. 

"The new wrestler," the voice says, "Did you like the fight?" Ah. He knows the voice now. 

"El Santo," Zoro says. 

"You remember!" the kid says, voice crackly and excited. 

Zoro doesn't say anything, listening to the kid breathe on the other end of the line. 

"Well," the kid says, "What did you think?"

"Your outfit sucks," Zoro says. He leans back against the bar. They don't open for another hour. 

"Oh," the kid says, "I guess I didn't think about it. Mr Zeff has a pretty cool costume." Mr Zeff. Zoro feels abruptly old, and weird about talking to this kid.

"Good luck finding Nami," Zoro says, and hangs up before the kid can talk more. Wonders, briefly, why Nami knows the kid. As far as he knows, she doesn't really go in for boys anymore. 

Sanji stomps in through the restaurant door, and Zoro spends twenty minutes arguing about why Sanji is not, actually, entitled to free shots of tequila every time Zeff tells him to go get a job, and mostly forgets out the phone call. 

Mostly. 

Chapter Text

The next time Zoro sees No Sombrero, Zoro's tied up in the centre of Nojiko's lounge room. 

He's pretty comfortable, kneeling on a padded cushion. Nojiko doesn't make him take his clothes off, which is good, though she laments that it ruins the effect of the ropes, so he wears the tightest clothes he owns. She sells more sessions and accessories that way, and that keeps her in a good mood. It's better for Zoro's health. Besides, he mostly works out these days for vanity, and doesn't get much chance to show off. 

Zoro zones out most of the time. People are generally well-mannered, because Nojiko is a hard-ass and her sister is equally insane, so people might look at him like a piece of meat, but they don't touch him. He's a good ropework model, Nojiko tells him. Pats him on the head sometimes when she comes past. She's allowed to touch, safety cutters in her belt. 

No Sombrero has a distinctive laugh. Zoro opens his eyes, startling the lady in front of him, and tilts his head to look around her. No Sombrero's not wearing a mask. He can see curly hair, and a flash of a cheek. The straw hat. There's a group of people between them, and Zoro stares at the legs he's pretty sure belong to the kid. 

"You okay?" Nojiko's on-again-off-again boyfriend hovers at Zoro's elbow. Zoro glances up at him. Realises there's now people watching him like he's a live art installation. Though, maybe they're not wrong. He rebalances on his knees and shuts his eyes. It's not a big apartment. 

"Fine," Zoro mutters. 

He tries to zone out again, but instead finds himself focussing on the voices around him. He can hear people murmuring behind him. Nojiko is laughing in the kitchen. There's classy jazz playing low, the nasal voice of their other neighbour on the balcony, glass sliding door squealing a little as people open and close it. Nami is talking, weaving in and out of conversation. Zoro hears her get closer. Hears the gasp.

"Hi Zoro," Nami says. Zoro opens his eyes, slow. 

No Sombrero looks down at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He doesn't look quite as young outside of the mask, jaw cut sharp. Scar under one of his dark eyes. He's wearing dark wash jeans and a linen button-up, a can of Pasito in hand. 

"Hey Zoro," No Sombrero says. He says Zoro's name with a roll on the r. Less of a musketeer, more of an L shape.
 
"Hey," Zoro says. 

"You playing mannequin all night?" Nami says, glancing around. Zoro rolls his shoulders. Nojiko will let him out eventually. The first time, he had a panic attack, not liking the texture of the synthetic and the way Nojiko was standing behind him. She cut him out in seconds and didn't mention it again. 

Zoro offered, months later, because- there's something about flexing against the rope. Knowing he can't get out, but that someone will be there in a flash if he doesn't want to be caught. Nojiko likes the artistry a lot more than the restraint aspect, so half the time he's not even tied up, so much as tied, and sometimes she just does a complicated chest or back piece and lets him walk around. 

"She's in the kitchen," Zoro says.

"Do you want a drink or something?" Nami says, squinting down at him. 

"You gunna feed it to me?" Zoro says. Nami rolls her eyes, and No Sombrero laughs.

Zoro glances at him. He's looking between Nami and Zoro, eyes bright. 

"Be right back," Nami says, slapping No Sombrero on the arm.

"Be nice," Nami says to Zoro, like he's the one who starts shit with people. Between them, Nami is the instigator. 

"Who let you in?" Zoro says to No Sombrero, when Nami's abandoned them and the kid is staring down at Zoro with a strange expression.

"Oh," No Sombrero says, "Nami invited me. I think this is her sister's place?" 

The kid looks around the apartment. Nojiko has good taste, all warm maximalism. Surrounded by green velvet couches and big animal prints, all the shibari stuff is more fancy-adult-store than seedy-club. No one's naked- it's not that weird.  

"You looking to buy some ropes?" Zoro says. Teasing, maybe, because given how red in the cheeks the kid is, he's pretty sure Nami did not explain what kind of party this was. Like Tupperware, but kind of horny. There's an older couple standing next to them, watching Zoro breathe against the rope. It's the kind of bright green that would be a hard sell if it wasn't so close to his hair colour. 

"Um," the kid says, looking from Zoro's hips to his chest, to his lips, "I don't really-" 

"May I?" the older lady says, hand hovering over the rope on Zoro's shoulder, "Just curious about the texture."

Zoro tilts his head, lets her fondle the rope. This is what he gets for talking to people. Everyone else thinks he's here for conversation and touching. The woman murmurs excitedly to her husband, and thankfully, Nojiko appears before Zoro's expected to play salesman. 

"Come on," Nojiko says, glancing between Zoro and No Sombrero, "Let's unleash the demon." 

Zoro snorts, leaning his weight back on her so he can pull his leg up and get up off his knees. It's smooth- they spent a lot of time practicing. Part of the sales party is demonstrating what people might get to see, if they came to a show, or they had rope and a willing partner. 

As soon as she's got him alone in her bedroom, Nojiko jabs him in the ribs.

"What?" Zoro grunts, leaning away- he can't escape her sharp fingers until she lets him loose. 

"Who's the guy?" she says, starting to unwrap the knots.

"What guy?" Zoro says, rolling his wrists. She's careful about his circulation, but it's still been the better part of ninety minutes. 

"What guy," Nojiko says, the falsetto eerily similar to Nami's mocking, "Short, dark and soft-drink."

Zoro shrugs. The kid's not that short. Zoro doesn't care enough to defend him though. 

"Don't know," Zoro says, "One of Zeff's finds."

"Ohhhh," Nojiko says, looping the rope around her forearm. Some people like buying the used ones. Zoro's hot like that.

 "What's his glitch?" Nojiko says, tilting her head when Zoro just rolls his eyes, "Must be impressive."

"Why?" Zoro says.

"You don't flirt with Hot Rock," Nojiko says.

"You have piss-poor taste in men," Zoro tells her.

"It's a common trait, apparently," Nojiko says. 

Zoro stands there for a second, expecting her to start tying him with something else. She usually does two, sometimes three.

"No," Nojiko says, "You're done. Go flirt with your boy."

Zoro blinks at her. 

"He's like, twelve," Zoro says. Nojiko squints at him.

"Nami says he's twenty-eight, and single," she says, which sounds fake. Also, when did they even have time to discuss this? Nami was gone maybe five minutes. 

"Bullshit," Zoro says, "Twenty-one max." He ignores the other part. Like Nami, Zoro's gay as anything- it's unfortunately uncommon though, even in the city. 

"Stole his wallet," Nojiko says, triumphant, "It had ninja turtles on it, apparently. She had to wash her hands."

Zoro rolls his eyes. 

"Boy- you're only thirty," Nojiko says, "If you do all your homework, you can watch after-school cartoons together. Argue about Donatello, or whatever." 

Nojiko reminds him to respect his elders weekly, lays it on thick. She's eight months older than him.

"You're the one with the thing for hentai," Zoro says, stretching out his arms.

"Explaining to your illiterate asshole neighbour who is supposedly Japanese what hentai is-!," Nojiko says, "Is not a thing!" 

Nojiko smacks him on the ass on her way out, giving him finger guns as she walks backwards out of the room. Zoro stares at the fairy lights strung up around her bed and considers his life choices. 

Back out in the main room, the playlist has shifted to something a bit more sultry. 

Nami's kitted out in her pole shoes, showing an awestruck blonde woman how comfortable they are, look how easy it is to walk in them. Zoro catches her eye when she's doing the old stoke-down-one-leg-pretend-you're-tying-your-shoe, and she winks at him. There's a few men standing around looking equally dumbfounded, but they have enough sense not to interupt. 

Zoro escapes to the balcony. Usually, he'd just go home. Nojiko will call him a coward if he doesn't hang around for at least half an hour. 

Nojiko's lucky- she has a wrap-around balcony. Zoro shuffles past the huge pot plant she puts out specifically so people don't go around the side, and finds Sanji already hiding, the glowing butt of a cigarette shielded by his hand. 

"She's going to kill you," Zoro grunts, looking out over the neighbourhood.

Sanji huffs. 

"I maintain my innocence," Sanji says, "As if I would be so rude to my host."

Zoro rolls his eyes. He doesn't care who burned the hole in the outdoor lounge. He's just tired of hearing about it. 

It's good that it's just Sanji. He's not sure what he would have done if he snuck around the side and there was an actual stranger. Or worse, Kaya and Usopp necking again. 

Someone raps on the kitchen window behind them. 

Zoro and Sanji both squint through the blinds. It's one of the other girls from the strip club, and she mimes taking a shot, wiggling her eyebrows at them both. Sanji glances at Zoro.

"Duty calls," Sanji says, only a little awkward, "Have fun." Zoro grunts, and lets him shuffle past. 

Zoro and Sanji had a great thing going for a while, all adversarial. Sanji's straight, apparently, but there was always a flirtatious edge, a heat to their arguments that got Zoro's blood up. They'd argue over stupid shit and occasionally throw down in the wrestling ring after hours. 

One night Zeff heard Sanji ragging on Zoro for not drinking anymore, took it wrong, and lost his mind. Zoro appreciates it, maybe, but now it's a Whole Thing. It was easier when everything was fair game. Now they're forced to be civil when they're on shift and within earshot. It's unnatural. 

Zoro eventually gets bored of looking at the shitty tiling on the houses next door, and crawls out from behind the pot plant. 

"Oh," No Sombrero says, blinking up at him from the lounger, "Hey Zoro."

Zoro's gotten better at the whole chit chat thing. He's had to, between the bar and Nojiko's irritating friend circle. The hard-earned talent abandons him. 

"Hey," Zoro says. They stare at each other for a bit. 

Zoro leans back on the railing, not willing to leave the relative refuge of the balcony. The kid doesn't seem to find it weird, looking at him with warm eyes. Smiling at him. He's switched his Pasito out for a fresh can of Pub Squash, condensation beaded on the sides. 

When he was still tracking bounties, Zoro would go weeks without speaking sometimes. Thank god for contactless delivery. It's harder to avoid talking to people now he's more-or-less stuck in one place. 

Settled is what Koushirou calls it, but he's managed to so far avoid having local-grocery-store awkward conversations with vague acquaintances, so it doesn't matter that it's been almost two years. As far as he's concerned, he's still new to the area. 

Zoro's never seen this guy before that night at the bar though. Twenty-eight, if that's true- he didn't pop up from nowhere. With his kind of mutation, Zoro's sure he would have heard whispers. Drunken stories- oh yeah, I saw one once who was like this- the kinds of things people pretend they don't talk about. Tales of freaks. It's not a big city. So- not local. But familiar to Nami, who doesn't really like men. 

Maybe No Sombrero is a big tipper. 

"Hey, Luffy!" Nami says, leaning on the glass sliding door and making it look almost intentional when it slides back too fast and she nearly goes tits-up. She's still in the platform heels. In her defence, they are comfortable. Zoro's too tall for them- he nearly scalped himself on the ceiling fan.  

"We're making frozen margaritas," Nami says, looking between them, "You want one?"

"No thank you Nami," the kid says. Luffy. Zoro supposes its no weirder than any other name. Nami shrugs, shoulders bare under her short, short dress, and squints at Zoro. 

"Why's it smell like smoke out here?" she says, accusing. 

"Ask Sanji," Zoro says. She huffs, and stomps inside.

"So," Luffy says slowly, after a bit, "Nami says you work at a bar?" 

Zoro squints at him. Does he think Zoro is an idiot? He has a brief second where he second-guesses himself, where he considers that maybe the rubber-armed wrestling mutant has a brother or something. But no- there's no mistaking the way the kid talks, the way he holds himself. The way he stares at Zoro. 

"Have you got a better costume yet?" Zoro says. Watches, amused, as Luffy does a spit-take and leaps up.

"You can't tell anyone!" Luffy says, in what he must think is a stage whisper.

"Your mask isn't that good," Zoro says, confused. Luffy's Mexican, if Zeff is to be believed. Maybe he actually cares about kayfabe. Was Zoro supposed to pretend he didn't know?

"No, about the-," Luffy says, glancing inside where Nami just disappeared, "About the other stuff." He waves an arm. Waves it again, a little rubbery, when Zoro just blinks at him. Ah. 

Zoro looks Luffy up and down. 

Luffy looks- nervous? Kind of upset. Eyebrows creased, mouth flat. So he's not out yet. 

A lot of mutant girls come to the club because they get it in their heads there's nowhere else for them, or that they're not good enough for other jobs. As if stripping or tricking is easy, or less valuable work. Nami helps Big Momma facilitate a support group. 

Zoro scratches that idea off his list. If Nami doesn't know Luffy as a stray mutant - maybe they know each other some other way. 

"Fine," Zoro says. Luffy blinks at him.

"It's fine," Zoro says, "They're not like that. But I won't say anything." 

Luffy looks relieved, but its a bit too awkward after that.

Zoro escapes to his apartment.

It takes a long time to fall asleep, and not just because he can hear the music through the wall. 

Zoro's a grown ass adult. He even paid his taxes last year. The wads of cash stuffed in every crevice of his apartment aside, he's been a law-abiding citizen for four years now. 

Zoro has the next day off. Does his laundry, including towels. Runs errands. Goes to the gym.

Still, he was a professional mutant hunter for ten years and has no other hobbies, so he's done by 1 o'clock and has no excuse to avoid going to AA. 

"Hi Zoro," they all chant at him. It's been a while, but there's a few familiar faces. 

His sponsor Mateus is the facilitator, and gives Zoro a speaking look. He rolls his eyes. He's never been the model 12-stepper. Can't stand the religious undertone. Mateus knows it, and they have the occasional lively debate about abstinence vs moderation, but Zoro's got his 1-year chip and he's not letting go of it yet. One day, probably, because he's always been all or nothing, but right now drinking's just not interesting to him.

Most people come to group with only vague religiosity and don't really buy into the powerlessness aspect, so they all kind of ignore those parts anyway. Mateus is Catholic, Timor Leste style, which he says is more about keeping his Avó from finding out he ever had a drinking problem than looking down his nose at people about what parts they choose to follow. 

There's the young woman with the shaky hands, who talks about her ex-boyfriend-boyfriend-ex-boyfriend and does a lot more than just drink. She goes through phases where she's clean, and Zoro can't shake the small spark of something at seeing her actually turn up for once. She even looks like she's brushed her hair. Maybe the ex will stay ex this time. 

There's also the old guy with the beard who always complains about his grandson. Mateus has to keep bringing him back to the point of the session, which is about his drinking. It's not always- people go deep and wide and discuss a lot of different things, and Mateus normally lets the conversation ebb and flow. 

It's just that all this guy talks about is his grandson. Endlessly. Once- one single time, close to Christmas when it was just Zoro, Mateus, and two of the older ladies, the old guy talked about his divorce, and how his daughter never spoke to him. The grandson is in town though, apparently, so there's fresh and unending drama. 

Zoro zones out while he's speaking, and from the glazed expressions so does half the group. Still- they don't tell him to shut up. It's a pretty nice group. The one on the other side of town has a more pushy facilitator, one that expects everyone to talk, and most of the regulars in this group have tried it out. Bitching about other AA groups is not technically one of the 12 steps. It's pretty therapeutic though.

Zoro's reached that nice Zen phase of leaving group, where he's feeling good about not being the only one trying to do this, and also not being the one with the shittiest life, when he swings the glass door open and steps out to find Luffy sitting on the park bench outside. He's got his knees folded up, staring into space, and startles when he sees Zoro.

"Zoro?" Luffy says. 

Zoro is immediately very, very angry.

"Are you following me?" Zoro snaps. He can feel his cheeks heating up, which makes him angrier. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. But there's Anonymous in the name for a fucking reason. He's also pissed off that he didn't clock Luffy as that kind of guy- he's can usually pick stalkers and perverts from ten yards.

"What?" Luffy says, looking genuinely confused. Zoro's assessing him for weapons, but of course he's unarmed. What does he need weapons for? 

"No, I-," Luffy says, waving at the door, "My-"

"Is there anyone you don't already know?" the old guy says, cuffing Luffy on the back of the head. It's affectionate, maybe, in the same way a cannon ball is affectionate. Standing next to each other, it's not obvious that they're related, except. Well- they're both batshit. 

Zoro feels abruptly like he's the one who's invading people's privacy. It's not like he ever actually listened, but still- all Zoro's heard about every week for the last year is blah blah blah about this guy. Luffy. The prodigal grandson. 

Luffy's looking between his grandpa and Zoro, a crease in between his eyebrows. 

Zoro walks away before he can say anything stupid. There's a bus stop twenty meters from the community hall, and a bus coming around the corner.

"Hey, Zoro-?" Luffy says behind him, and the old guy starts yammering on about something. 

Zoro only has to wait behind one person, and boards the bus. He doesn't check the number, just taps his debit card on the reader and beelines for the back of the bus. Sits on the back row on the opposite side of a surly girl in a school uniform who is clearly skipping. She's glaring at her phone, and Zoro pulls his own out. 

He unlocks the screen and stares at the default screensaver, realising he's got no one to complain about this to who won't just laugh, because he's been bitching about this old guy for months. Not specifically- he likes the anonymity part of it. There's no way to explain this without the context though. He's got no messages.

Fucking Luffy. Zoro never paid much attention to the old guy's rambling- couldn't recall anything that's not generic geriatric whinging about Young People These Days. He gets distracted thinking about all the stupid stuff the old guy probably said about Luffy, and gets off the bus in some random part of the city. 

There's a shopping centre not far away, the fancy one, so he crosses the the highway and gets over-priced boba from a bored looking teenager at the sushi place on the terrace. It's just on three o'clock, so he sits and watches all the youths in school uniforms descend on the shopping centre. 

"Zoro?" someone says from behind him. It's Usopp, ladened down with bags. 

"Hey," Zoro says. Kaya must be nearby, or maybe Nami. Usopp probably doesn't spend enough time in Mecca to have three bags of cosmetics, given a choice. Usopp looks at his boba and his gym outfit.

"You waiting for someone?" Usopp says, sounding confused.

"No," Zoro says. Usopp nods slowly.

"Riiiiight," Usopp says, "Well- do you wanna join me for lunch?" 

Zoro raises his eyebrows.

"I'm starving," Usopp says, sounding desperate, "It's been hours and they're still going. Please give me an excuse to get food."

Zoro watches the bags while Usopp gets sushi. He's not really hungry. He chews on the taro balls and watches in faint disgust as Usopp shovels California rolls in his face and moans like it's a sexual experience.

"Long day?" Zoro asks Usopp.

"It's the pole girls," Usopp says in between mouthfuls, "There's some comp. They need costumes. So many costumes."

"Right," Zoro says, glancing around. He doesn't really want to get stuck lugging bags around. Depending on how many of the girls are shopping, there may be no escape.

"Look," Zoro says, readying his lying face, "I've gotta-" go, he wants to say, but Nami comes around the corner and throws her purse at him. 

"You!" she says, like he's done something.

"What?" Zoro says, catching the purse and punting it in Usopp's direction. Usopp flails and drops it, which isn't Zoro's fault. It's Nami's. 

"Why are you here?" Nami says, "Nojiko has rung me like four times."

Zoro frowns. 

"Why?" Zoro says. 

"Your apartment block is on fire, you idiot," Nami says, "Turn your phone on for once." 

Chapter Text

Zoro pulls his phone out. Realises that yeah- he's still got it on airplane mode. He hates it when people's phones goes off at group. No wonder there were no messages.

"Oh," Zoro says, switching airplane mode off. His phone buzzes for a while, all the notifications coming through. 

Shit, Nojiko even rang Koushirou, because there's a text message written like an email politely asking him to reply when he gets the chance, kind regards. Sanji has sent him three angry messages about Zeff freaking out, and then an eggplant emoji every two minutes for the last half an hour. 

Zoro sighs, responds to Sanji with a water gun emoji, and sucks up some more boba balls.

"Did you start the fire?" Nami says, "Why are you not bothered by this?" 

She's kind of shrill. Zoro blinks at her. He considers how he might be after four calls from an irate Nojiko. Decides it's a reasonable response. 

Zoro shrugs. He should probably be more worried. He likes his apartment. Likes the wads of cash he's kept for a rainy day. But maybe he's mellowed out, going straight. 

Early twenties, the idea of holding down a normal job seemed impossible. He was deep in dodgy shit as soon as he left high school. He's been living pretty comfortably on the wage he gets at the bar though, has been paying extra into his superannuation. If he doesn't get hit by a bus or done by the law, it'll probably be okay.

"Is Nojiko okay?" Zoro says. She's definitely alive, from the amount of angry messages she's sent.

"Yeah," Nami says collapsing onto the bench beside them, "It was one of the apartments on your floor though."

Probably the new guy down the end. He's set the fire alarm off twice burning pizzas when he's greened out and forgotten about them. Zoro hopes they got the old lady down the other end out okay. She's got a walker. He replies to the most recent of Nojiko's messages.

[zero] is mrs thunissen ok?

The tiny profile picture pops up to indicate Nojiko has read the message, and his phone lights up with a call.

"I gotta take this," Zoro says to Usopp.

"Good luck," Usopp says, and Nami snorts. Zoro nods at her, and she rolls her eyes and waves him off. There's a bunch of loud girls he vaguely recognises from the strip club congregating at the entry of the terrace, and he escapes down the ramp towards the bus stop. 

"-swear to fucking god Zoro," Nojiko says, the call cutting in, "I am going to choke you out. The chair. Whatever that thing is where they pick the guy up and smash his head on the ground."

"Piledriver," Zoro says, "You okay?" 

"No!" Nojiko says, "I was halfway through a shoot and now I'm sitting in my car with Mrs Thunissen's fucking cats. I am not okay!"

"Was it the weed guy?" Zoro says, staring at the bus timetable. The 401 is only every half hour. He sits on the faintly sticky metal bench. 

"Of course it was the fucking weed guy!" Nojiko says, "And then no one could find you!"

"I was out," Zoro says.

"Out where?" Nojiko says, "Fucking Antarctica?" 

Zoro doesn't answer. They're not that close. Nojiko knows he doesn't drink anymore, but- they don't talk about what he does with his time now he's not being scraped off bar floors and getting thrown out of clubs. 

"Zoro?" Nojiko says, "Boy- you better be on your way!"

"Yeah," Zoro says. Nojiko breathes into the phone for a bit. Zoro can hear faint meowing.

"I was really worried," Nojiko says, quieter, "You don't always wake up." 

Zoro rolls his eyes. Sleeping through his phone alarm is not same as sleeping through a fire alarm. He doesn't sigh though, because Nojiko can hear that, and he does appreciate her concern, however misplaced. 

"I'm okay," Zoro says, "Glad you're safe." 

She huffs, and breathes on the line for a while.

"See you in a few," Zoro says as the bus rolls up.

"You better," Nojiko says, and hangs up on him. 

The building is still smoking. There's a bunch of rubberneckers, and Zoro fights his way to the front so he can ask the junior firefighter to let him in. 

Nojiko's in the back carpark, standing around with a bunch of the other apartment residents. The old guy with the bowtie from downstairs is ranting at two police officers, who have a faintly glazed look in their eyes. If it's anything like the strata meetings, they'll be there for a while. 

"About time," Nojiko mutters, "Let's get out of here." She's not noticeably dressed up, but the dress is shorter and frillier than anything she'd normally be caught dead in out in public, and she's got her house flip flops on. 

"We can't go back in?" Zoro says, looking up at the smoke.

"Our whole floor is wrecked," Nojiko says, grabbing his arm and steering him towards her car. 

"Where are we going?" Zoro says.

"Nami's," Nojiko says. That makes sense. Zoro doesn't really get it though- why did she need him? Her car is covered in cat hair, but the grumpy tortoiseshell and the hideous orange thing must have found a new home.

"Nami's out shopping," Zoro says. 

"I know, dumbass," Nojiko says, throwing them in reverse and putting her lead foot to use, "She picked up when I called."

They've broken into Nami's dodgy clapboard bungalow and Nojiko's fishing through her linen closet before Zoro realises they're intending to have him stay at Nami's as well.

"Nojiko," Zoro says. 

"Why the fuck are these all singles?" Nojiko mutters, tossing sheets all over the floor, "She hasn't had a single in ten years."

"Hey, Nojiko," Zoro says, stepping closer. She turns around, a jumble of towels in her arms that she dumps on him, but she's not really listening to him.

"I'm not staying," Zoro says. Nojiko snorts.

"Where you gunna go?" Nojiko says. Zoro doesn't say anything, watching her demolish the cupboard.

"You don't have any friends, Zoro," Nojiko says pityingly, "You even pretend like we aren't friends."

"We're friends," Zoro says automatically. Not close friends. They're neighbours, who have a shared history that includes violence. Sure, she ties him up sometimes, but that's a mutual interest and appreciation of the art. 

Nojiko squints at him. 

"You're thinking dumb shit again, aren't you?" Nojiko says. 

Zoro squints back at her.

"I'm not staying," Zoro says.

"Fine," Nojiko says, "Waste your cash on a motel."

She stops. Puts her one hand on her hip and gasps. It's loud and fake. 

"Oh waiiiiit, that's right!" Nojiko says, tapping her chin like she's in a crappy detective show, "You have no motel money anymore!"

Ah. Well. 

That's not entirely true. He's got money- he just didn't really bother saving it anywhere accessible. 

There's a few bond loans, his superannuation. He gets paid in three days. Zeff will probably pay him early if he asks really nicely. Or- the building is still standing. He can probably break in later and fish around in his apartment. Surely not all the cash is burned up. He dumps the towels on the hall table and crosses his arms. 

"No," Nojiko says, glaring at him like she can read his mind, "No going back in. I will call the cops on you." 

Zoro rolls his eyes.

"There's only one couch," Zoro says, "And I snore."

"I know," Nojiko says, "Which is why you should be very grateful Nami is letting your sorry ass stay over."

His phone buzzes in his pocket. It's the restaurant landline. Zeff can never get it to work, and Sanji has willingly called Zoro a grand total of once in the entire time he's known Zoro, so he picks up. 

"What?" Zoro says, heading down the hallway where there's slightly better phone service.

"And to think, I was practicing my eulogy," Sanji says, "I was hoping for your voicemail, just so I could hear your dulcet tones once more, cher."

"What's wrong?" Zoro says. Sanji sounds weird. He's a weird person, generally, but Zoro's familiar with the four key Sanji tones- annoying, annoyed, hangry, and hungover. This is pretending to be annoying, but way off the mark. 

"There's a guy here for you," Sanji says, straight to annoyed, "Says he knows you."

There's a rustling, and Sanji's voice gets lower, weirder, crackly like he's covered the handset. 

"He won't leave," Sanji mutters, "Zeff's pissed. You said you were done with that shit." 

Zoro pinches the bridge of his nose. Stares at the ugly pride-flag-themed macramé Nami has over her couch.

"Name?" Zoro says. Sanji snorts.

"No name," Sanji says, "Sounds posh, hotter than you. Hurry the fuck up." 

Fuck. There's not many posh people that would come looking for Zoro. 

Zoro's a block away from the bar when he realises that he's still in his gym clothes. He's got Kuina's knife under his shirt- he put it back on after his shower. It's not going to be enough. But- if it's who he thinks it is, he's fucked anyway. It's just kind of embarrassing to have his knees out in front of his teenage idol. 

Zoro eases the door open on the quiet side and blinks into the gloom. Zeff is sitting with Mihawk, a cocktail and a short glass in front of him. Zeff spots Zoro, smiles at Mihawk, and excuses himself, beelining for the front door. Zoro leans back before Mihawk can turn around and see him.

Zeff steps outside and grabs Zoro by the arm, hauling him into the side alley. Zoro lets him. 

"You remember the deal we made, boy?" Zeff says. Sanji was underestimating Zeff's level of pissed, but there's nothing Zoro can do to fix it anyway, so he just looks at Zeff's fingers where they dig deep into his bicep.

"He's the best," Zoro says dispassionately, "Nothing will stop him finding someone."

Zeff blinks down at him. 

"I thought so," Zeff says, quieter, "That voice. Coming in here- not many people got balls like that." 

Zeff sighs, pats Zoro's arm. It's going to bruise, but not for long.

"Just get 'im out before tonight," Zeff says, "We got the greenies coming in to practice."

The greenies? Zoro thinks about Luffy, and is annoyed at himself. He's got bigger problems than an awkward interaction. 

Back in the bar, the air-conditioning has kicked in, a cold slap in the face as Zoro walks in. 

"Long time no see, Roronoa," Mihawk says, giving him a slow once over, "You've certainly become more... casual." 

Zoro sits down across from him before he can get too embarrassed by his gym socks and ugly joggers. 

"What do you want?" Zoro says. 

"I've been offered a job," Mihawk says, in that slow drawl. 

"You gunna take it?" Zoro says, after a long enough pause that he hopes Mihawk's sense of dramatics is satisfied. 

He can't rush the man. No matter how obnoxious he is. Mihawk will be suspicious, not leave, and then Zeff will fire Zoro and he'll have to challenge Mihawk to another duel just so he can spend some time unconscious rather than be both homeless and unemployed again.

"I haven't decided," Mihawk says. Zoro stares at him with the blankest expression he can manage. 

"Apparently," Mihawk continues, taking a sip of his drink, "The mark is a real freak." 

Zoro can't help the twitch. Mihawk smiles like the Cheshire cat. Mihawk knows that Zoro knows that Mihawk knows that they are both what the conservative sort would consider freaks, just as much as whatever doomed bastard Mihawk is contemplating hunting. 

Among other things, Mihawk's got eyes like a cheap horror movie vampire. The last time Zoro challenged him, Mihawk had held him down and watched Zoro's skin slowly knit back together, all wide-eyed fascination even as Zoro snarled at him. 

"Big numbers," Mihawk says, as if he cares about the cash on offer, "Thinking maybe you know him." 

Ah. Well, that might explain why he bothered tracking Zoro down.

"I'm out of that line of work," Zoro says, when Mihawk seems to be expecting a response.

Mihawk tsks, like Zoro is a recalcitrant child. 

"You'll always have a taste for it," Mihawk says, and there's something sultry about it, some double entendre that Zoro doesn't quite understand. Zoro can feel his cheeks heat up, wrong-footed. 

Zoro is, he supposes, a relatively attractive thirty year old man. It's far less off-colour than Sanji's usual jokes. Every time he talks to Mihawk though, he feels like a slow-witted ten year old. 

"He's a boy about your age," Mihawk continues, "Limbs like rubber." 

Zoro curls his toes in his shoes, clenches them hard so he doesn't otherwise react. Of course. 

So much for bigger problems. He breathes, slow and calm, and compartmentalises the agitation, the incandescent burning desire to flip the table.

Fucking Luffy. 

"What'd he do?" Zoro says. Mihawk didn't care much for the reason mutants were on his list, but Zoro always did, and Mihawk knows it.

"Nothing yet," Mihawk says, "Just annoyed the wrong person."

"Who?" Zoro says, and nearly bites his tongue. Too eager. 

Mihawk thinks so too, tilting his head and looking at Zoro like he's an interesting bug.

"Thinking of taking the job?" Mihawk says.

"I don't do that anymore," Zoro repeats, feeling like a broken record.

"Not even with your safe house all burned up?" Mihawk says. 

Safe house. It was a fucking apartment, and a shit one at that. Zoro didn't have safe houses anymore. Never really did- he's not some movie spy. Also- how the fuck does Mihawk know about that?

Mihawk watches him like he can hear every thought, and picks up his drink. It's got a lemon on the side and a pink umbrella, no doubt a Sanji touch, and Zoro marvels at the way he somehow doesn't look stupid drinking it. 

"A toast to your grand new life?" Mihawk says. 

Zeff left Zoro his whiskey, but he doesn't touch it. 

"I don't drink," Zoro says, and Mihawk actually raises his eyebrows. 

What kind of reputation did he have, when even Dracule Mihawk knows he used to drink?

"Have you joined a cult?" Mihawk says, lofty and delighted, "Tell me the basketball shorts are a cry for help."

"Are we done?" Zoro says, standing up. He doesn't leave though. He's not stupid enough to turn his back on Mihawk. 

"I suppose," Mihawk says, nursing his cocktail.

Zoro stands there like an idiot so that Mihawk can take his time. Lets him flounce out of the bar with an appropriate amount of flair. It's the only way to deal with him. Zoro's gut churns, and he ignores Sanji when the coward finally pipes up from behind the bar. Zoro walks over to the bar door, goes out the front. 

Mihawk's gone, an UberX turning the corner.

Zoro's so fucking relieved when Luffy turns up twenty minutes later on foot that he grabs him by the arm and drags him inside the building before he can say anything.

"Hey- Zoro?" Luffy sounds confused, which is fair, but lets Zoro keep him moving. He takes him around the back of the bar and into the cramped staffroom. It's shared with the restaurant staff, mostly lockers and a sticky formica table. 

Zoro sits Luffy down and asks the waitress on break, very politely, if she would mind getting Zeff. She squints at him, lip gloss shiny and the scroll of her thumb on her phone judgemental, but she rolls her eyes and leaves them alone.

"So I heard correctly then," Sanji drawls from the doorway. 

"Zoro- are you okay?" Luffy says. He's not wearing his costume, but he's got a bright blue gym bag with little sharks on it, and he's wearing rainbow crocs, and Zoro considers cashing in Luffy's bounty right then and there. He could buy the apartment block and kick everyone out except Nojiko and Mrs Thunissen. 

"How the fuck," Zoro says, waving at Zeff, who frowns at him and shuts the staffroom door, "Did you manage to get a bounty so big that Dracule fucking Mihawk is after you?"

Luffy looks at him with wide eyes, twisting his hands on the strap of his gym bag.

"I don't know who that is," Luffy says slowly, "Did I get you in trouble?"

Zeff and Sanji snort at the same time. Zoro runs his hands through his hair and crosses his arms so that he doesn't reach out and choke the idiot.

"You can't come here anymore," Zoro says, and both Zeff and Luffy start arguing at the same time.

"That's not up to you," Zeff says.

"I have a match this week!" Luffy says.

"You're going to die," Zoro says, "Mihawk is going to come back here and he's going to cut you into pieces."

"He hasn't taken the job yet," Sanji says, ever the voice of reason when it's in direct opposition to whatever Zoro's saying.

"You don't know this guy," Zoro snaps. 

Luffy's quiet, looking between them, his mouth a flat line. 

"What say you, Luquito?" Zeff says to Luffy, hands on his hips. 

"I would like to do my match," Luffy says, staring Zoro down. He's got an intensity to his gaze that makes Zoro's skin itch, makes him want to look away, but Zoro's been cut down by Mihawk before. Seen how shit Luffy is in a play-fight. No rubbery tricks are going to be enough.

"No," Zoro says. He can feel Zeff and Sanji staring at him. 

"I will talk to this Mee-hork," Luffy says, "I am sure it is a misunderstanding."

"You're misunderstanding," Zoro says, "You're not coming here anymore." He glares at Luffy, fists clenched tight so he doesn't start something. 

"Hey now, boy," Zeff says, "That's not your decision." 

Zoro turns on Zeff, who steps in, squared up, and Sanji steps in beside him. Two-on-one, Zoro's still probably got good odds, but he's already on thin ice and punching your boss is probably only something that Sanji could get away with.

Zoro bites down hard on his tongue and pushes past Sanji into the bar. 

"Hey-!" he hears Zeff say, and some commotion, but he keeps walking, out the front of the bar and down the street.

"Zoro!" Luffy shouts. 

Luffy catches up with him, his crocs making stupid squeaking noises.

Zoro lets him get close, waiting until he's close enough to touch, and turns, grabbing him by the arm, spinning them sideways down a laneway and slamming him against the wall. Luffy's heavier than he looks, scrabbling and yelping. 

"Shut up," Zoro snarls, hands tight around Luffy's arms. He doesn't feel like rubber- feels like skin and bone, wiry muscle. Luffy looks more confused than worried, which pisses him off even more. 

"Do you know who I am?" Zoro says, pressing him against the filthy brick.

"You are Zoro?" Luffy says, hands on his forearms. Not grabbing- just holding. He has big hands, palms warm against Zoro's skin. 

"I used to kill people like you," Zoro snaps, getting in his face, "Freaks like you."

Luffy blinks at him rapidly, frowning. He looks down the alley, and then fast as a snake, he's looping his arms around Zoro's arms, around and around and breaking Zoro's grip. 

Zoro sucks in a breath and kicks out, instinctive. Luffy grunts when Zoro's sneaker connects with his knee, but he's gone full rubbery. Luffy winds his arms up Zoro's arms, around his torso and his legs, uncaring that Zoro spits and bites and kicks. Zoro wriggles like a rabbit caught by python, furious at himself for being so complacent. 

"I know you are like me," Luffy says, and Zoro freezes. How the fuck could he possibly know?

"I'm nothing like you," Zoro hisses. Luffy tilts his head. Zoro can't really breathe, short gasps as his lungs press against the loops of Luffy's arms. Luffy leans in, close enough that Zoro can feel his breath. He's still frozen, and now he can feel his cheeks heating up. It's not the lack of air. Shit.

"I am going to win my match," Luffy says, all dark eyes, "And I would like you to come watch."

Zoro stares at him. How is some dumbass wrestling match more important than staying alive? No wonder his grandpa bitched about him constantly- the guy was a moron. 

A car drives by, music loud. Luffy twitches, releasing Zoro. His arms snap back like rubber bands, and he looks normal again. As normal as a man wearing jean shorts, rainbow crocs, and a straw hat can look. 

Fuck Zoro has bad taste in men. He shoves Luffy back, and walks away.

Luffy lets him. 

Chapter Text

Ten minutes down the road, Zoro remembers he's got no apartment to go home to.

Shit. 

Zoro looks around. Works out where the nearest bus stop is. It's going on late afternoon- anywhere nice will be booked out soon. If not already- there's some big concert on this weekend. He scrolls through his phone, frowning at his banking app. 

$29.14

Well- the Hilton is out. 

He tries the nicer hostel on the main street near the bus terminal, with the red couches and the university students, but even the eight-to-a-room is booked out. He ends up at the end of Johnson Avenue, in the older, crappier hostel. 

The German girl on the front desk has a sunburn and tells him the lift is broken. The lift has the same handwritten out of order sign taped on it that it did three years ago when Zoro last stayed in this place. He even ends up on the same floor, with the weird brown stain on the green carpet near the stairwell. The continuity is somewhat comforting. 

There's only one spare bed in the room, and the set-up in the bunk below him looks and smells like the guy has been living there for a few years. No one's in the room though, so Zoro makes his bed aggressively and tries not to judge the piles of peoples belongings. Someone's passport is sitting in plain sight on the chipped storage shelf. 

Bed sorted, he escapes to the main floor. Borrows a phone charger for a half an hour from a young guy from Poland in exchange for reading the Chinese menu into his phone speaker so it can be translated. It makes Zoro hungry. He raids the FREE section for abandoned food in the communal kitchen and has a really disappointing toasted sandwich dinner with a lukewarm glass of tap water. It's like being nineteen again. 

Just like when he was nineteen, he checks the hostel notice board. There's the usual weird fake job ads promising hundreds of dollars a day. A few shitty vans for sale. Two listings for rooms. The first is females-only, so Zoro squints to read the horrible hand-writing on the second listing, faintly amused. 

ROOM FOR RENT
$20/night or $100/week
Queen St near the mall
1 housemate male 20s
private room FURNISHED double bed + desk
shared bath and kitchen
lqbt friendly - all genders welcome
no pets sorry :(
MUST BE MUTANT FRIENDLY

It's crumpled a bit and there's a few numbers already torn off, but he can probably borrow forty dollars from Nojiko tomorrow and sleep somewhere slightly less likely to give him bedbugs. Just until they let them back into the complex. He types the number in his phone, sends a text. 

[zoro] queen st room still for rent?

MUST BE MUTANT FRIENDLY. That usually means they're mutant themselves. Zoro at nineteen would have actively avoided it. Too much risk. He ended up next to Nojiko in a real apartment, with a real lease, so it worked out then. Maybe this will work out now.

Zoro stretches out on the lumpy couch, takes a nap. Wakes up when his phone pings. It's jarring, hearing the text tone- he hasn't used anything but messenger apps for years. 

[mutant friendly] YES 2nite?

Zoro frowns. Maybe the guy is a weirdo. Across the room, a drunk guy is yelling into his iPad, and Zoro can hear plumbing clunking in the wall behind him. He sighs. Sends another text. 

[zoro] tomorrow?

The reply is instant. 

[mutant friendly] YES

Zoro stares. How is he meant to respond to that? 

[zoro] send pics? 

Zoro puts his phone down, and then scrambles to pick it up again, because he realises it sounds like a weird pickup line. 

[zoro] of the room

Zoro clicks send, putting his hand over his face. If he gets a dick pic, he's taking the bus to Nami's house and drinking all of the vodka she keeps in her vegetable crisper. 

There's two dings, and Zoro opens the message with trepidation. 

[mutant friendly] LOL 

The second message is a picture of a floral bedspread in a reasonably-sized room. There's no weird boxes or other stuff in the room that Zoro can see. Looks like a standard empty spare room.

Zoro has a lukewarm shower in the mouldy bathroom, and spends the night getting occasional snatches of sleep in between people coming in drunk and arguing with each other. There's a couple at the end of the room who spend an hour moaning on each other on the top bunk. He's forgotten about the text conversation until lunch time, when he bothers to get out of bed and makes FREE toast with the brandless margarine that has an expiry date longer than Zoro expects to live. 

There's a text tone ping.

[mutant friendly] need beddng?

Zoro blinks at his phone. Types slowly.

[zoro] yes

Zoro debates sending it. He'd assumed the bedspread came with the room. The reply is rapid. 

[mutant friendly] OKI how mny pillow?

Zoro leans back on the squeaky plastic chair and adds twenty percent to his evaluation that he's going to get his organs harvested. Sitting right now at a solid 75% chance.

[zoro] 10 

Just to see what the guy says.

[mutant friendly] WOW LOL

[mutant friendly] 3? 

[zoro] how will i survive? 

[mutant friendly] LOL XD

[mutant friendly] i hav 1 spare sqshmello?

Zoro has to google it. Did you mean Squishmallow? 

Zoro assumes that he does, and adds a few percentage points to the organ tally. 

[zoro] what kind 

Zoro receives a blurry picture closeup of a blue-and-white fish, looking very squished. It's eleven AM on a work day. Does the guy not have job? 

[zoro] nice

He gets a slightly less blurry picture of the bed, made up with three pillows and the squishmallow, perched on top of the pillows like a throne. Zoro laughs. It's been a while. His face hurts. 

Zoro texts later, when he's avoiding the transport officers by hopping off the train every time a group of them hops on. It's a slow way of travelling, but cheaper. He gets off two stops before Nami's, because it has no barriers, and walks the rest of the way.

[zoro] where do we meet?  

His phone pings right as he knocks on the door, and he forgets about it, because Nojiko opens the door and looks hilarious. She's got a horrible ratty house robe on, a huge grey nightie with BAH HUMBUG in pink font, ripped along the neck hem. Nojiko is an expensive-matching-silk-pyjamas person. Nami, apparently, is a wear-comfortable-things-until-they-die person. 

"Nice socks," Zoro says. They're the fuzzy, sticky-bottomed kind. Nojiko wrinkles her nose at him.

"What do you want?" Nojiko says, waving him inside and sniffing at him.

"Have you showered?" Nojiko says, and doesn't wait for him to talk, "Did you sleep in a gutter? Zoro- we talked about this!"

"I stayed at a hostel," Zoro says, rolling his eyes and walking through to the kitchen.

"Well, that explains the smell," Nojiko says. 

"Day off?" Zoro says, rummaging through Nami's fridge.

"No," Nojiko says, "I've been doing invoices." Zoro hmmmms.

"I'm waiting to hear from strata," Nojiko says, "About when we can go back in." 

She's got her arms crossed when he looks back at her, some kind of look on her face.

"What?" Zoro says. 

"Did you get laid?" Nojiko says.

"No- what?" Zoro says, nearly dropping the jar of gherkins. His phone pings. He ignores it. 

"You're too chirpy," Nojiko says, "It's suspicious."

Chirpy?

"No judgment," Nojiko lies, flicking her hair back judgementally, "Get your weird hostel STD on."

His phone pings. He ignores it, and now Nojiko is zeroed in on his pocket. 

"Is he cute?" Nojiko says, "Where's he from? Is he sending you dick pics?"

"No," Zoro says, putting the condiments back. Nami has enough to make a really crappy cheeseboard, and Zoro swats Nojiko away when she starts in on his pickled onions. 

"Where's Nami?" Zoro says.

"Sleeping," Nojiko says, sitting down weirdly close to him at the table and leaning in. 

"Get back, onion breath," Zoro says, shifting his chair away.

"If he sends you dick pics you have to show me," Nojiko declares. 

"I'll show you what he sent me," Zoro says slowly, "If I can borrow sixty bucks."

"Thirty," Nojiko says.

"Fifty," Zoro says.

"Forty and if it's funny-looking I can show Nami," Nojiko says. 

"Deal," Zoro says. Nojiko looks at him expectantly, and he layers cheese and gherkin on his cracker. 

"Cough up," Zoro says. 

"Ugh, fine!" Nojiko says, going into the next room. Zoro can hear her rummaging, and checks his phone. 

[mutant friendly] q st staton

[mutant friendly] 6?

[mutant friendly] or wenevr

[zoro] what do u look like? 

Nojiko comes back and thrusts two twenties at him, grabbing his phone out of his hands.

She scrolls rapidly through his messages, and then tries to snatch her money back. Zoro stuffs it down the front of his shorts and gives her a challenging look. 

"You're so lame!" Nojiko says, "What the fuck! Is he making you a love nest?"

"I'm renting a room," Zoro says.

"From who?" Nojiko says, "Please tell me this isn't off Gumtree. You're going to get made into a skin-lamp, like in that movie."

"What movie?" Zoro says, grabbing his phone back. 

"You know," she says, like Zoro has watched a film since he was a teenager, "It puts the lotion on it's skin."

"I should probably start moisturising," Zoro says, playing dumb, because nothing pisses Nojiko off faster.

"How did you survive this long?" Nojiko says, kicking him in the leg with her fuzzy toes.

"Good genetics," Zoro says. There's a private joke in that. Nojiko groans. 

"One day karma will come for you," Nojiko tells him, stabbing her nail into a cube of cheese, "Gone your glowing cheeks. Only eyebags and wrinkles."

"That's no way to talk about your baby sister," Zoro says, as Nami shuffles in the room.

"You two can fuck off any time you like," Nami grunts, opening the fridge and staring blankly at the empty shelves.

"I thought they were meant to pay for accommodation in a fire," Nami continues, "What's the point of paying so much rent?"

"They only had share cabins at that $49 place," Zoro says, "Queen Nojiko isn't going to stay at a caravan park."

"What's your excuse?" Nami says. 

Zoro can't think of a comeback fast enough. 

"You're banned, aren't you!" Nojiko says, and Nami snorts. Zoro stands up. He's got what he needs. 

"Aw, you embarrassed him," Nami says, all false sweetness as she slams the fridge door, "Poor baby."

"Let me guess," Nojiko says, "You got drunk and fought someone. No! You got drunk and fucked someone!"

Zoro leaves the room. 

"Don't commit any more crimes!" Nami yells after him.

"Don't get murdered!" Nojiko yells louder, not one to be outdone by her sister. 

Zoro's probably going to do both. 

Mutant-friendly hasn't responded. It's just after five. Maybe the guy thinks Zoro is going to harvest his organs. It's been a while since he's had a good fight. 

[zoro] how will i know its you?

He sits in the open section of the train right by the doors so that he can disembark if the transport officers come aboard. It's an all-stations train, and he's going to be late if he gets stuck on one of the less-serviced stops. He keeps flicking the phone screen on, wondering if it's a bust. Maybe he should take his forty dollars and try the hostel again. At least they had stale bread and condiments. 

He's standing outside Queen St station just past 6pm, next to the ugly statue of some guy on a horse, and his phone pings. 

[mutant friendly] SRRY! gt distratctd

[mutant friendly] were r u now?

[mutant friendly] jus cum to apprtmnt?

[zoro] whats the address

[mutant friendly] 402/128 qn st ignr wrd dor guy 

Zoro puts the address into Maps, and spends half the time walking wondering what ignr means. 

128 Queen St is nice.

It looks like it's probably heritage listed, all old sandstone and lead stained glass, maybe a post office or school or something. Now it's Luxury Serviced Apartments - Short or Long Stay. Whatever the original door was, it's been replaced with a shiny glass revolving door, gleaming in the dying light. Zoro can see tessellated dark red and white tile, a chandelier, tasteful furniture. There's an honest-to-goodness doorman. 

ignr wrd dor guy

Oh. Ignore weird door guy.

Zoro does his best, heading straight for the elevator. The doorman tries to talk to him. He's in the elevator frantically pressing the close button when it occurs to him that this might be some kind of weird prank. Maybe he's wandering into some really fancy place that will call the police on him, sick of random backpackers turning up and wandering around. He's still in gym clothes. 

The elevator looks like it's key carded, and Zoro presses level four without much hope. The elevator moves. Small miracles.

Zoro stares at his own tired face in the immaculate mirrored wall of the elevator. He should probably start moisturising. There's a camera in the corner of the elevator. Hopefully there's somewhere he can stash Kuina's knife to pick up later after he gets arrested again. A nice pot plant or something. The elevator clunks and opens. 

There's no lights on in the little foyer. 

Zoro peers out dubiously, hand over the door so it stays open. The hallways left and right snake off at angles, but Zoro can see light coming from the right, the faint tinny ring of music. The floor crunches a little. In the gloom, Zoro surmises the whole level is undergoing renovations. There's powdery dust all over the floor, chipboard residue, and the lights in the ceiling are dangling wires. The carpet and what he can see of the wallpaper look like they're from the seventies. 

Zoro steps lightly down the hallway, breathing controlled, like he's on a job. Whatever happens, it's already made for a novel afternoon.

402 is open, a wood chock shaped like a whale rammed under the door. Elton John is still standing loudly from one of the rooms, and Zoro can admire the shag carpet in it's true garish orange in the tiny entryway without the construction dust. It sounds like construction is happening inside though, hammering and a loud thump and a guy's voice saying "ow!". 

Zoro opens his phone. Sends a pic of the entryway table with the dead Zanzibar gem. 

[zoro] so what are you building

He can be creepy too.

Zoro can hear a mobile text tone, and a few seconds later there's a laugh from inside.

It's familiar.

Zoro's stomach drops. He should walk away, right now, and never look back. Drop his phone in the river and get a new number. 

He's frozen to the spot like the shag is glue. 

"One sec!" the guy shouts, confirming it.

Zoro would have preferred a serial killer.

Luffy comes around the corner with a hammer in his hand, and his bright smile is blinding for the split second before his eyebrows furrow. 

"Zoro?" Luffy says. He's staring at Zoro's bare knees. Somehow it's worse than when Mihawk did it. 

"Are you squatting?" Zoro says, which is not what he meant to say. It's a stupid question, because Luffy's anything but subtle. There's no way he's been sneaky enough for management not know he's on this level. 

"What? Oh- no," Luffy says, laughing a little, "I guess you know grandpa, so- well, uh- he kind of owns the building." He looks embarrassed about it. He says grandpa like it's got an "m" in it. Grampa. 

Zoro turns around and walks back down the hallway. 

"Hey, Zoro!" Luffy says, following him. Of course he does. 

"You don't have to go!" Luffy says. He grabs Zoro's arm.

Zoro takes a split second too long to decide if he should punch him or push him away, and ends up with Luffy right up in his face in the dark, leaning in all earnest. He's still got the hammer in his other hand, warm metal against his bicep.

"I'm a good housemate!" Luffy says, sounding a little desperate, "You won't even know I'm here!"

That's a blatant lie. Zoro's face must say something similar, because Luffy laughs a little.

"Well, maybe you will know," Luffy says quietly, "But you don't have to stay in that hostel! It's not a nice place." Zoro assumed the ad was around a bunch of places. Maybe not. His grandpa owns this building- there's no way he needs Zoro's twenty dollars. 

"I've slept in worse places," Zoro says.

Luffy's not wearing a shirt. Zoro had been distracted by the hammer, the Zanzibar, the shag carpet. The serendipity. 

"Okay," Luffy says. He breathes for a few seconds, big hand warm on Zoro's arm. Zoro twitches, heart pounding, and steps back. Luffy steps with him, and Zoro stamps on his bare foot before he can think about it. Luffy makes a pained sound and drops his hammer, flopping around dramatically. 

Zoro's distracted, stepping back to avoid Luffy's flailing limbs. His back hits the wall between the elevators. He smacks the call button. 

"I didn't hit you that hard," Zoro says.

"True," Luffy says from the floor, limbs gone all rubbery. He rolls over and loops his arms around Zoro's legs. Zoro's not expecting it, and there's barely any light in the foyer.

"What are you doing?" Zoro says, not sure if he should be alarmed or just irritated. He tries to lift his foot, waggling his leg like Luffy's arms are seaweed he can shake off. It doesn't work. 

"I am trying to convince you to stay," Luffy says, wide-eyed, "Zoro should not have to sleep with bed bugs."

Zoro stares down at him. He has a lot of questions. Why were you staying at a hostel? How often do you let random people sleep in your un-renovated apartment? Why have you got a hit out on you? Why do you want to wrestle more than you want to live? 

Why are you so fucking weird?

"I can help you find a better place to stay," Luffy says, tentative now, like he's not sure if Zoro will take offence, "You can put me down as your reference."

Zoro sighs. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, thumping against the wall. Some construction dust drifts down from drill holes above his head, like asbestos snow. 

The elevator dings, opening up and spilling light into the foyer. 

The thing is, Zoro wasn't born here either. He's been in Australia for most of his life though, from pre-school. Koushirou took on any of the orphans from the extended family, brought them down from Japan. He's got distant, probably actually unrelated cousins who had to navigate the immigration system, had to learn the language, had to navigate the social differences, the forms to fill out. 

Zoro can imagine Luffy sitting around helping someone get a rental, because the hostel isn't a reference. The market's at the point where real estate agencies can put 80% of the applications in the bin and still have too many to bother sifting through. 

128 Queen St would look good, though. Might be enough to get someone into a place.  Luffy would absolutely lie about how much rent they really paid, how long they'd been there, if he thought it would help. 

The elevator door rumbles closed, and it's dark again behind Zoro's eyelids. 

Zoro puffs out a breath so he doesn't get dust in his mouth.

"Let go," Zoro says.

Luffy's quiet, rubbery limbs rigid, and then he unloops himself. 

Zoro looks down at him. 

Luffy looks up at him determinately, legs crossed, hands on his knees. He looks comfortable on the hideous carpet, half-naked and covered in dust. 

"I have my own apartment," Zoro says.

"Oh," Luffy says, and then nothing else. A few seconds pass.  

"There was a fire," Zoro says. Luffy nods, still looking at him expectantly. Attentively. It's weird. Zoro's not used to people expecting him to talk. He blames the awkwardness for his next words.

"It was just for tonight," Zoro says, not thinking. Luffy perks up like a puppy, grinning, and Zoro crosses his arms, annoyed at himself. The words sound like a rationalisation, like he's staying, and now Luffy's jumping up and waving his arms about.

"It will be the best night ever!" Luffy says, looping his arm around Zoro waist and waving at the empty, dusty foyer, "You'll see!" 

Zoro snorts, but lets himself be dragged along, because the other option is acknowledging the way Luffy manhandles him. Easy, like he's ninety pounds, instead of one-ninety. Zoro hasn't decided yet. Maybe he should leave. It's a bad idea. 

"Are you hungry? My UberEats is connected to Grandpa's credit card," Luffy tells him, breath hot against his neck, "I don't like using it except for special occasions when people come over." 

Zoro nods dumbly. Lets himself be dragged into Luffy's apartment. The music has changed, ABBA blaring tinny and enthusiastic. 

Does your mother know that you're out?

Luffy kicks out the wooden chock and the door closes, sealing his fate. 

Chapter Text

Halfway through watching Luffy badly construct flat-pack with between four limbs and about forty rubbery loops, Zoro's phone goes off. It's the group chat with the girls.

Sanji has also messaged him a blurry picture of the next roster, Zeff's blunt handwriting barely visible. He thumbs-up the roster and doesn't bother looking at it, because he'll work whenever. It's not like he's got other places to be. 

[nojikhoe] @zero R U DEAD!!!!

Zoro's got a cold can of Sunkist wedged in the crook of his knee and a half-eaten bowl of pad thai on his lap. Luffy bought spring rolls, steamed dumplings, and satay chicken sticks, so he's not even that hungry.

Zoro watched him inhale a large jungle curry and a large fried rice in ten minutes flat, and was glad to have started on the accompaniments before Luffy could get to them. The guy is a bottomless pit. 

[zero] he bought dinner

[nojikhoe] Romance is ALIVE!!!!!

[zero] its not a hookup

[tsunami] not wit that attitude

[nojikhoe] You should be nice the boy bought you FOOD!!!

[tsunami] suck his dick

[nojikhoe] Did you even say THANK YOU!!

[nojikhoe] What is his name I want to FB stalk him!

[tsunami] @zero suck his dick i kno u read this

[tsunami] @zero i assume ur not replying bc ur sucking his dick rn

[nojikhoe] Is there more squishmellos?

[tsunami] ???? wtf

They're both still typing. Zoro mutes the chat. He picks out the little shrimps from his pad thai.

"It's done!" Luffy cries, waving the hammer and a flat-head screwdriver.

Zoro looks at the construction dubiously. The flatpack was from Kmart- he's pretty sure the instructions didn't include anything that might have needed a hammer. It looks a bit like a bedside drawer. There's a few stickers still left on it. Side A.

"Cool," Zoro says, sipping his drink so he doesn't comment further. It's not his house. 

Luffy lays out flat on the carpet, limbs sprawled. 

"That was really hard," Luffy says, "The instructions were so confusing!" 

Zoro glances at the folded-out sheet of paper. There were only six steps. He stares at the sweat running down Luffy's clavicle and considers that maybe it has been too long since his last hook-up. Or maybe his standards were always this low.

Luffy jumps up like a spring, all sweaty lithe muscle and bouncing curls. Zoro licks his lips. 

"Do you want to see my costume?" Luffy says, looking down at him with dark eyes. He's still got no shirt on.

"What?" Zoro says, clutching his single-use bamboo cutlery. 

"It's still a work in progress," Luffy says, "But I think it will be done before my match!"

Oh. Right. Wrestling. Mihawk. 

Murder.

"Sure," Zoro says. The food sits heavy in his stomach. 

Zoro doesn't have any scars. He should. Small ones, everywhere. A few big ones, where the likes of Mihawk gutted him. Luffy doesn't have the same healing mutation. He's got little nicks all over him, faint lines of pink and silvery skin. The lines of poorly-healed stitches under his eye. 

Luffy holds his empty palm out to Zoro, smiling at him. Confident Zoro will take his hand. Zoro's a fool, so he does. 

Luffy's bedroom looks like its recently had a tropical cyclone pass through. Clothes and knickknacks. A 6ft cut-out Minion. Mostly boxes though, half-emptied, or maybe half-packed. In the corner, there's a dubiously constructed desk covered in craft supplies, and a clothing rack with a shiny gold suit. Boots with a big star on them. Sequins that are half glued on.

"Los Conquistadores?" Zoro says, "Or- boots- Stardust?"

"You know a lot about wrestling!" Luffy says, sounding delighted. Zoro can feel his face heating up. He shrugs, dropping Luffy's hand. 

"Not really," Zoro says. He took the job at the bar and felt like he should learn something about it. Zeff has the bar television stuck on WWE re-runs endlessly. They don't get much else except on YouTube- the Mexican professional matches don't get airplay on the English-speaking streaming services. 

There's nowhere for Zoro to sit, and there's no safe navigation to lean on a wall, so he ends up perched on the edge of Luffy's unmade bed. It's only when he's watching Luffy strip off behind the clothing rack that he realises this might, actually, be a strange kind of seduction attempt. Luffy's pretty odd- that much is established. He did buy Zoro dinner, after all. 

Zoro leans back on the mattress, rolls his shoulders. Considers Nami's suggestion. 

Luffy pulls the boots on. 

"It's not finished!" Luffy says. He stands in front of Zoro, hands on his hips. 

"No mask?" Zoro says, looking up at him from the bed. There's a lot of gold lamé and tassel-y fringe. His arms are bare down to the forearm, where he's got a band of matching gold wrapped tight. His knobbly knees and the tops of his shins are bare. Probably a good idea to keep his limbs mostly naked, if his signature move is going to stretching out and octopus-strangling. 

"I left it somewhere," Luffy says, flapping his hand, "What do you think?" 

It's lurid. A bit silly. A vast improvement on the last outfit- if you're into that kind of thing. Zoro tilts his head. 

"It's shiny," Zoro says. Luffy beams, like Zoro's waxed lyrical. 

"It's extra stretchy, look-!" Luffy says, leaning over and grabbing Zoro's hand. Luffy puts it on his waist, closes his hand around Zoro's so he can make Zoro pinch the fabric. He can feel Luffy's body heat through the thin fibre. 

"Yeah," Zoro says, looking at his hand wrapped around Luffy's hip. 

Zoro makes what he considers to be an educated guess. Kicks out with one foot, hooking behind Luffy's ankle and grabbing Luffy's arm, using the motion to spin Luffy sideways onto the bed. Follows the motion down off the bed with his own body so he's kneeling on the piles of tee-shirts. Luffy yelps, landing hard on the edge of the bed, knees spread. Zoro watches Luffy sit up on elbows, and puts his hands on Luffy's bare knees.

Luffy looks down at him with wide eyes, cheeks flushing red in the lamp-light. Zoro's never tried that move sober. Good to know it's just as effective when he's not half-cut. The way Luffy let himself be moved is telling enough. 

"Uh," Luffy says, eloquent. Zoro doesn't really need him to talk much though. 

"What's your ring name?" Zoro says, pushing his palms up Luffy's thighs. The spandex really is stretchy. Thankfully, it's not a one-piece.

"What?" Luffy says, "Oh- um. No Sombrero I guess-?"

"No," Zoro says, pushing the shirt part of Luffy's costume up so he can find the top of the pants, "What did you want to be called?"

Luffy's red from his ears to his chest, where his skin disappears under shimmery gold fabric. 

"Um, well," Luffy says, pupils blown wide, "It's- uh."

Zoro pauses, fingers hooked over the edge of Luffy's hot-pants. Pulled down far enough to know he's not wearing underwear. Watches Luffy watch him. 

Luffy licks his lips.

"Rey Pirata," Luffy says, quiet, "You know, like-"

"Gold Rogers," Zoro says, "Yeah." Makes sense. It's been done professionally- Jean Pierre LaFitte. Paul Burchill, if Zoro chooses not to forget. Gold Rogers was a freak though. There's not many mutants with that kind of street cred. 

Luffy's got a nice dick. Zoro is gratified to find a half-chub. The tiny niggling voice in the back of his head that suggested Zoro was really only an after-club choice is silenced. He's only been on one awkward date since he started going to AA, and anyway- he's busy. 

Luffy thickens up nice, a bit of a curve, a fat head flushing dark red. Zoro pumps his shaft, foreskin silky under his palm. Pre-cum pearling at the tip, and Zoro shifts on his knees, getting a bit closer. Assessing the best angle. The bed's a bit high if he wants to go deep.

Luffy's palm comes up, just a tiny bit too fast, and Zoro's not expecting it- he flinches and grabs Luffy's wrist, tight, ulna and radius grinding. 

They both freeze. Zoro stares at Luffy's dick. He can feel Luffy staring down at him. 

"Hey," Luffy says, "Zoro- you don't-" 

Zoro drags Luffy's hand up to his hair. Luffy's still hard. It's fine. He rolls his shoulders, swipes his thumb over the wet tip of Luffy's cock and smears the pre-cum over his glans. Luffy's breathing hard, loud in the quiet room. Out in the main room, Luffy's phone is playing 70s disco. 

Do the hustle. 

Luffy's dick tastes mostly like sweat- he must have showered at some point. Zoro pulls back, licks down the shaft, gets him wetter. Sucks on the tip, salty bitterness on his tongue. 

Zoro works his way down, back up and down in increments, but its not hard to get Luffy's cock wet, Zoro's mouth stretched out and spit on his chin. Messy. He chokes a bit, gagging, and Luffy's leaking enough to fill his mouth, and he swallows, his jaw aching. 

Luffy's got a tight grip on his hair, but doesn't push down. His hips jerk every now and again, thighs shaking under Zoro's sweaty palm. Choking him, just a bit, enough that Zoro's mouth waters and his dick's leaking into his gym shorts. Zoro rolls Luffy's balls with his other hand. Flicks his tongue under his glans. Pulls out all the tricks he can remember. 

"Fuck, Zoro-" Luffy gasps, and when Zoro glances up at him, his bottom lip is white against his teeth, biting down hard. He's trying to pull Zoro off his dick. Realistically, Zoro should let him. He's not drunk and he barely knows this guy. 

Zoro pulls up, sucks hard on the tip, bringing up his empty hand to pump his shaft. Stares him down. Luffy's doesn't break eye contact. It feels like a challenge, and Zoro moans around his cock. Luffy grips his hair tight, the pain sharp and hot, groaning. His cum floods Zoro's mouth, strong and bitter, and Zoro gags, swallows. 

Zoro can feel it spill out over his chin, and Luffy leans down, fast enough for Zoro to shut his eyes, shoving his thumb in the corner of Zoro's mouth. Spit and cum all over his face, Zoro keeps pumping his shaft, sucking on Luffy's thumb instead. Luffy presses down on Zoro's tongue, gagging him with it, and his hips jerk, smearing the last of his cum on Zoro's cheek. 

Luffy pulls on his hair, tugs.

"Come up here," Luffy says, voice rough. Zoro fumbles a bit, tries to avoid smearing cum all over Luffy's costume. He ends up beside Luffy on the rumpled bedspread. Luffy only takes his hand out of Zoro's hair so he can shove it down the front of Zoro's gym shorts, gripping him hard through his underwear. 

Zoro groans, thrusting into his grip. Luffy takes his thumb out of Zoro's mouth and shoves his tongue into his mouth instead. He doesn't seem to care that Zoro's got his cum all over his face. Fuck, he seems to like it. 

Zoro fucks up into his grip, the fabric harsh against the head of his dick. Zoro pushes the the fabric down, elastic under his balls, and hisses when Luffy grabs him again, palm hot and too dry. Luffy rolls over him, tassels wild, and spits into his own palm.

Zoro stares up at him, breathing fast, dick hard against his stomach. Luffy jacks him off, slow, mouth open and eyes dark. Zoro bites his lip, face hot and chin sticky. There's too much friction, but Luffy doesn't stop, dragging his palm up Zoro's shaft, twisting at the tip.

Zoro throws his arm over his eyes, trying to focus. Luffy leans forward, grabs his wrist and presses it against the bed. Zoro stares up at him. Luffy's too close, and Zoro shuts his eyes, lets Luffy lick his chin, put his mouth on his neck. It's good, it's good- fuck-

Zoro cums all over himself, and Luffy keeps pumping his shaft, breath hot against his neck until Zoro hisses and squirms. Zoro brings a knee up, knocks Luffy onto his side. Luffy groans, collapsing next to him. He's smiling though, dick still wet and half hard against his bare stomach. Zoro lays there for a bit, catching his breath. 

"Good thing I got the machine washable stuff," Luffy says. 

Zoro glances at him. Starts laughing. Luffy grins, starts laughing as well. Giddy, breathless. Not really laughing about anything. 

It's stupid, juvenile. Zoro hasn't laughed like this since he was a teenager. Zoro can feel the heat of Luffy's skin against his arm. Stares at the ceiling, the weird speckles on the flaky moulding. His ribs ache.

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says eventually, rolling over and looking at him with dark eyes, "Do you want to stay over?"

Zoro shrugs. He desperately needs a shower. And clean socks. There's a fifty-fifty chance Luffy owns some. 

"You can stay as long as you like," Luffy says. It's well-intentioned, probably, but makes something sour in Zoro's stomach. He's not a stray. 

"Just for tonight," Zoro says, sitting up. He pulls his shorts up a bit and fishes around in his pocket for Nojiko's cash. Luffy blinks at the notes.

"This is two nights," Luffy says. He doesn't seem too disappointed, which is good. Zoro's not here to make him feel better. 

"Bank the second one," Zoro says.

"For next time?" Luffy says, eyes bright. Zoro doesn't groan.

"Sure," Zoro says, standing up and trying to keep the cum off his shirt. It's a lost cause. He pulls his shirt off instead, over his head, and tosses it at Luffy.

"You got a washing machine?" Zoro says, stepping on the backs of his shoes. Sure, maybe he doesn't really need to bend over at the waist to pull his socks off, but hey- it's been a while since he's had a captive audience. Luffy's easy to impress, blatantly staring at his ass. 

"What- oh, yeah," Luffy says, jumping up. The fringe on his costume is a bit rumpled, and he should probably invest in more glue if he wants to keep the rhinestones on longer than one fight. 

Out in the main room, Zoro's phone is ringing. He shuffles over, squinting at the screen. It's a local number, vaguely familiar. Probably not spoofed. 

"Hello?" Zoro says. Luffy's somewhere in the bedroom, probably changing.

"Mr Roronoa?" a woman's voice, professional, "My name is Anna, I'm calling on behalf of Premier Capital Strata. Do you have a moment to chat?"

"Sure," Zoro says, and tries to pay attention when Luffy comes out naked with an armful of clothes. There's the gold outfit, something silver and glittery, and a lot of socks. He's still wearing the boots. Did he get naked and then put them back on? 

Luffy hums off-tune and points at Zoro's shorts, eyebrows raised. Zoro shrugs one shoulder and pulls them down, not one to back down.

Luffy smiles. There's something heated about it. He takes his bundle of laundry and disappears into another room. Zoro tunes back into his phone call when the woman repeats his name a few times.

"-Roronoa? Are you still there?" Anna says. The veneer of professionalism is thin. It's going on nine pm. Zoro can't blame her. He imagines she's had to ring all the residents.

"Yeah," Zoro says, standing completely naked in Luffy's train wreck lounge room. The shag is in pretty good condition. He can't see his toes.

"Do you have any questions?" Anna says.

"No," Zoro says. She hangs up on him with a hurried salutation, and Zoro opens the group chat with the girls. He scrolls past the mentions of squishmallows and the unflattering discussion of his sexual history that followed. There were a lot of gifs.

[zero] @nojikhoe strata rang

[nojikhoe] WHY did they ring u first ur name is literally the end of the alphabet!!

[nojikhoe] When can we go back ?

[nojikhoe] Tomorrow???

[zero] yeh from 12

[tsunami] finally

[zero] sisters not doing it for themselves?

[tsunami] i did my time

[nojikhoe] I cleaned yoour bathroom!! 

Nami's typing, but Zoro's got better things to do. He finds Luffy's phone charger, which has electrical tape around it but is a working usb-c, and leaves it plugged in.

Luffy's still naked except the boots, reading the back of his laundry powder. He must make a decision, because he dumps a scoop in and slams the lid. 

"Hey," Zoro says, leaning on the door frame. It's a narrow room, shower and toilet on one side, sink, washing machine, and overhead dryer on the other. The dryer has a hand-written BROKEN!! DO NOT USE :( sign Blu-tacked to the front. 

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says, looking him up and down. 

"You got spare towels?" Zoro says, when Luffy just stands there in his boots and stares at the cum drying on Zoro's stomach. 

"What? Oh- yeah, sure," Luffy says. He's red in the face. The washing machine clunks and starts filling.

Luffy rummages around in the cabinet under the sink. Zoro watches him. He produces a badly folded microfibre towel with a gym logo on the corner. Zoro rolls his eyes.

"You joining me?" Zoro says, opening the glass shower door and stepping in. Luffy grins widely and dumps the towel on the top of the washing machine, grabbing the  top of one boot, limbs all rubbery as he pulls it off.

Zoro tests the hot water, mesmerised by the way Luffy's limbs stretch out. The physics and biology are impossible- he has to shut his eyes so he stops thinking about it. 

Tilting his head back under the spray, Zoro enjoys the water pressure. It's an upgrade on the hostel, that's for sure. He scrubs the cum off his stomach and lets his mouth fill up with water. 

Luffy shuffles in, hand warm on Zoro's ribs. Zoro steps back against the cold tile and lets him under the spray. Considers the riskiness of starting something in the shower. If they die, at least he doesn't have to deal with Mihawk again. 

"I can wash your back?" Luffy says, and when Zoro opens his eyes, he's too close. The shower space is small, quickly filling up with steam. 

"Sure," Zoro says. Zoro turns around and stretches his back, hands on the wall. Luffy's silent for a long moment, and then he leans past Zoro to grab the body wash. 

Zoro's about to say something, but he forgets, because Luffy dumps a bunch of lime-scented body wash on his back and rubs it all over him. It's all very polite, actually washing his back. 

"Do my front?" Zoro says, when Luffy seems like he's going to stop there. Maybe he's actually wanting to get clean. Or maybe Zoro's lost his touch. 

"Turn around?" Luffy says. When Zoro manoeuvres himself to face Luffy, careful of the wet tiles, he finds Luffy half-hard and wide-eyed, staring very determinedly at Zoro's face. 

Zoro licks his lips. Luffy watches him, mouth open. Still got it. 

He must smile, because Luffy flicks his gaze back to his eyes, and leans in. His pupils are blown wide, water bouncing off his curls and sticking them to his skin. Zoro tilts his head, runs his hands up Luffy's back. 

"I want to kiss you," Luffy says. 

Zoro's never been asked before.

He leans in and bumps his lips against Luffy's. Luffy tilts his head, opens his mouth. He still tastes like peanut sauce. Zoro gets pressed up against the tile for his trouble, Luffy's tongue in his mouth. 

Zoro reaches down with both hands, gets a grip around both of their cocks and presses them together. Everything's wet, the shower hot down his front, but the water washes away any precum.

The friction makes Zoro groan, and Luffy takes the opportunity to put his mouth on Zoro's neck. Zoro twitches away a bit, not expecting it, and Luffy grabs his shoulder and brings him back, casual as anything. Fuck. 

"You-," Zoro says, and Luffy leans back, mouth open. 

"Sorry," Luffy says, blinking water out of his eyes.

"No, I-" Zoro says, before the two braincells that aren't horny catch up to him. You can bite me really hard probably isn't something he should be saying to a hook-up. He used to be paranoid, careful about people, about blood, but he's never caught anything. He's not even sure he can.

Luffy's looking at him, running his hands up and down his back. Cock hard in Zoro's hand. 

"You can-," Zoro continues, "It's good- I-" 

Zoro gives up on trying to explain himself. He leans in and kisses Luffy again, harder this time, bumping noses and putting his teeth on Luffy's lip. Something about Luffy makes Zoro think that maybe he wouldn't have to try very hard, to get himself tied up in Luffy's grip. Get himself held down. Made to take what's given to him. It's an assumption, from the way he moves Zoro- from the way he put his hands on him, mouth on him. 

Too soon though, probably. Zoro's always wanted too much.

It was a lot easier when both parties were drunk. Guys would be rougher with him, not ask questions. Pretend to not remember in the morning, all the fucked up shit Zoro begged them for. 

Also, they're in the shower. Knowing Zoro's luck, they'll both slip over and die. 

Zoro tilts his head back against the shower tile, shuts his eyes, adjusts his grip, and tries to stop thinking. Luffy's good about it, shuffling even closer, hips thrusting into Zoro's grip. Starts out kissing his neck, a nibble, and upgrades to digging his teeth into Zoro's collarbone when all he does is moan. 

It's good- it's enough. It's been so long since Zoro's done anything like this. He fucks into his palm, Luffy's cock leaking all over him, skin silky-soft.

Luffy moans into his neck and comes all over him, fingertips digging into his skin, nails biting. Zoro pumps them together, grip tight and hard and follows, cum hot against the back of his hand until the water washes it away. 

Luffy sags against him, head on Zoro's shoulder. His hips are still twitching, thrusting against Zoro's skin, and he's touching Zoro all over, one hand on his ass and tracing nails up his back. Zoro could probably go again- the healing seems to give him a rebound factor. But the water is getting cold and post-nut clarity is kicking in. 

Zoro watches water run down Luffy's back. He's so vibrant and alive, all hot skin and deep breaths. 

Sobriety kind of sucks. 

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes up sometime just after dawn.

It's still cool, the apartment's evaporative fan not running. It must be overcast, because the glare is white through the gap in the curtains. He's kicked the squishmallow and pillows off the bed at some point. 

Luffy must still be asleep. He can hear faint snoring through the wall. Zoro flips his phone over, blinking at the screen. 

04:45

There's new messages in the group chat. Zoro rolls over and tries to fall back to sleep. He drifts off for a bit, but the light is too bright, and he needs to use the bathroom anyway. He trips over his own shoes in the lounge room, and spends a few minutes in the bathroom trying to make his hair look less like a birds nest. 

Luffy gave him a shirt and baggy pyjama pants to wear, tight on the shoulders and short at the ankle, but better than nothing. Everything else is in the dryer, which wasn't actually broken. It was digital and refused to run because Luffy had never emptied the lint filter. The thick circle of felt that peeled off when Zoro got it open was impressive. 

Zoro stretches out on the lime green couch and scrolls through his phone. Nojiko wants to meet at the apartment at 12pm. Zoro checks the roster, squinting at Zeff's blocky handwriting. He's working from four to close, which is a loose term on a weekday. He makes vague plans to spend the afternoon sourcing new work clothes if the apartment is a bust, and falls asleep on the couch. 

When he wakes up, someone's standing next to him. Zoro startles, smashing his elbow into Luffy's knee. 

"Zoro is so violent!" Luffy says, but he's laughing, collapsing beside the couch and laying out on the floor like it was intentional.

"You need a cat bell," Zoro grunts, sitting up. His bare toes touch Luffy's thigh, because Luffy apparently only sleeps in his underwear. 

"Do you want breakfast?" Luffy says, looking up at him from the floor. The orange shag looks good against his tan. Zoro tries to remind himself that Luffy is a full luggage set of bad ideas. He's not even sure how the man is still alive. 

"Are you charging Garp?" Zoro says, like it will change his answer. It might change the scale of his order, but he's not turning down free breakfast. The question is more about managing his expectations. If Luffy's cooking, he might stick to toast.

"Sure," Luffy says, "We can get croissants!"

Downstairs, the reception desk has one attendant, a small woman with a severe bun who sighs when she sees Luffy. The doorman is different, really young, but his uniform is crisp and he's outside helping an older lady put her luggage in the car. 

"Oh-! Good morning Luffy," the doorman says, quiet, "You're back." His posture is perfect, round glasses. He's got coloured hair, bright pink under his immaculate cap. 

"Good morning Koby!" Luffy says brightly, and he's vibrating beside Zoro, like he's restraining himself. Zoro glances between Luffy and Koby. Zoro knows Luffy is only a few years younger than him, but they both look like they should be catching the school bus. 

Zoro nods at the doorman when the kid gives him a politely curious looking-over. He's changed out of Luffy's pyjama pants, but Luffy's yellow fundraising tee-shirt from 2017 is stretched tight across his biceps and there's something considering about the look the kid gives him. Zoro crosses his arms. 

It's just past 7am and the lady who drops off their UberEats delivery seems to be expecting more people. Luffy appears to have ordered the entire café menu, and let Zoro use his phone to put his coffee order in. It's cracked on the corner, with a screensaver image of a younger Luffy, a red-haired man and a shaggy dog, their noses all jammed up tight against the camera. 

Luffy tries to invite the doorman, who refuses very politely and apologises a few dozen times. Luffy doesn't seem phased. He chatters away behind his mountain of food the entire ride back up the elevator.

Zoro lays out on the floor next to the coffee table after he's eaten way too much and watches Luffy systematically demolish the rest. Zoro's ice coffee is good. Luffy's got juice and a milkshake. Zoro has to look away every time he drinks them one of the other, trying not to gag at the thought of orange juice strawberry milkshake.

"What are your plans for today?" Luffy says, around mouthfuls of food.

Zoro shrugs. 

"Work," Zoro says, because that seems safe, "What about you?"

"I am working on a few different things," Luffy says proudly, and Zoro squints at him. None of that sounds like he's looking for a job, or doing anything much. Though, maybe Luffy doesn't need a job. Maybe that's just Zoro, who feel sick every time he thinks about being unemployed again. 

"What kind of things?" Zoro hazards.

"You will see," Luffy says brightly. Ominously. He goes back to eating food a mile-a-minute and complimenting Zoro. So far he's worked through his hair, his bartending skill, his strength, his eyes, his fashion choices. The last one makes him roll his eyes. There's no one around though.

Zoro sips his drink and does what Luffy does to him- just looks him over. 

Luffy's- compelling. Gregarious. Lots of synonyms for energetic and friendly. He's blunt about a lot, but then has a tendency to talk his way around other things. An open book, sure. But every now and then- a page or three missing. 

Zoro doesn't want to like him. 

It's hard though, when he's laughed more in the last twenty-four hours than he has in six months. 

There's also the way he sometimes looks over at Zoro's mouth and licks his lips.

Zoro doesn't really have time to start anything, not when Luffy seems to like taking his time. He's also not entirely sure that staying the night wasn't a mistake. Luffy doesn't talk about it though. Doesn't make it weird. Seems content to have a nice breakfast, and walks him down to the lobby. 

Zoro figures that's that then. It's definitely not the worst hook up he's ever had. 

"I'll see you later!" Luffy says, smacking him on the shoulder. Zoro blanks out for a second when Luffy digs his fingertips into the muscle. Koby's watching, so Zoro just nods and escapes while he can. Outside, the sun is bright and hot. Hopefully there's some cash left in the apartment that he can use to buy actual pants.  

When he gets there, Nojiko's dressed down, a dark hoodie and bags under her eyes. 

"You okay?" Zoro says, and her noncommittal grunt should have been his first warning. Half the apartment occupants are already milling around the entryway though, so he's distracted. For some reason, Mrs Thunissen brought her cats, and they screech at the bow-tie guy's pet birds, who are equally irate at being left in carriers in the sun. 

The building inspection is "not favourable". They're not moving back in. At least, not Zoro's floor. The fire department got there in time to save the lower floors, but Zoro's level and the top floor have already been declared unliveable.

Zoro zones out a bit while the lady from strata reads off her paperwork, assuming they'll send it all in a series of fifteen emails over the next two days, like they normally do. The dad from the family next to Mrs Thunissen looks angry, and one of the single mums bursts into tears. People try to console her, and the strata lady just keeps talking, rushing through her words. 

Like Nojiko and Zoro, half these people just rent. The owners aren't even in the city. There's a guy in an official uniform who stands awkwardly next to her, hands on his belt. Some kind of security. Rent-a-cop.

Finally, they're trudging upstairs. All the doors and windows are open. The stairwell is fine, concrete and steel, but there's scorch marks on the very bottom of the fire door and everything reeks of burned plastic and wet carpet. 

"You want a hand?" Zoro says, when they reach their respective open doors.

"No," Nojiko says. That's all she says, her tone and face stony. 

Zoro nods, and watches her disappear inside her apartment.

The security guy has gone upstairs for now, but he'll be back soon to make sure they leave. They're probably meant to wait for him, to even go in, but by the time the crowd had gotten the mum to stop crying, the tension was through the roof. It felt more like a mob than anything. 

Zoro's glad he doesn't give a shit about his stuff.

The fire's ripped through everything. The floor is slick with ash and leftover water, and the roof in the main room is gone in places, exposed wiring hanging down with strips of melted plastic dried out in weird globs and shapes.

Zoro waves at the person he can see upstairs walking around. The man waves back, wide-eyed. 

Zoro's seen plenty of burned out buildings- an apartment block is new though. 

Zoro pokes around, careful of the floor given the state of the roof, and manages to not fall through. There's bits that are definitely questionable. Some of the walls must have been particularly flimsy. Zoro pokes one, and the remains of the entire interior wall sheet for the bathroom crumbles and falls. 

"Right," Zoro says to himself, choking a bit on the plume of ashy dust. He goes back to the front door, working his way systematically through every place he'd stashed stuff. His passports and documentation folders are a stack of ash, which is a pain in the ass, but he's got enough ID on him or at Koushirou's to at least get the Australian one back. Most of the cash is burned up, and he dumps the remains on the warped metal coffee table. 

When he's done, he comes back and flicks through the stacks of fifties and hundreds, pulling out any that have at least half the note still there. A lot of it is melted together, or beyond burnt, but he collects a reasonable amount that he can probably take to the bank and try his luck. Presumably people who got their money legally also had housefires sometimes. Zeff might let him swap notes every now and then. 

He can hear people in the hallway, and shoves the good cash in his bag. The rest he shoves under what remains of the couch. Whoever has to throw out his furniture can think what they want. 

Zoro is a practical person. There's a good chance the apartment owner didn't bother to keep the insurance up-to-date. Once strata sends through the formal assessment he'll send them a break lease form. He looks around, figuring it's probably the last time he'll see the place, and goes next door. 

Nojiko's still standing in her loungeroom. Zoro steps around her, wary. It doesn't look like she's done much. She'd brought some bags, and there's one open in front of her on the ground, but all the rest are empty. 

"Hey," Zoro says, when she just keeps staring at what's left of her fish-tank. 

"Suzie was eight years old," Nojiko says quietly, and Zoro nods. Suzie was a silver dollar the size of Zoro's head who liked to eat any and all fish that fit in her mouth. Sometimes rocks, too. 

"I didn't-" Nojiko says, and stops, choked up. 

Oh no.

"I didn't think about them," Nojiko says, "I just- I kept trying to fucking ring you and you wouldn't pick up!"

Zoro doesn't say anything. What can he say? Nojiko swallows hard, kicking the bag. 

"When the alarms went off I thought it was just someone cooking toast so I ignored it," Nojiko continues, throwing what looks like a bit of melted rope at the wall.

"They were so fucking loud," Nojiko says, "By the time I went out into the hallway everyone was yelling and screaming. I just grabbed my handbag and got the cats and then the fire warden wouldn't let me come back upstairs." 

She's breathing hard, eyes watery and red, and she rounds on him, stepping up and pushing him, hard. Zoro lets her. She's pretty strong, and he steps back into the structural support, a steel beam cold against his back.

"Why the fuck couldn't you just pick up?" Nojiko says, louder now, angry, "I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," Zoro says. He's not good at it. Nojiko thinks so too, eyes flashing as she gets up in his face. She stabs a sharp nail into his chest.

"If you ever ignore me like that again," Nojiko says, "We're done. You can go back to being a piece of shit with no friends, like you always wanted." 

All of Zoro's friends were Nojiko's friends first. It's an unspoken but reasonable assumption they'd side with Nojiko in the divorce. 

She's crying.

Zoro stands there, awkward, until she's sobbing into her hands and he has to put his arm around her. It seems like the right thing to do. Nojiko makes a noise like a closed-mouth scream and hides her face in his chest. They stand there for a while.

The security guy knocks on what remains of the door frame. Nojiko freezes, muscles stiff under Zoro's arm.

"Uh," the security guy says awkwardly, "You got about half an hour."

Zoro nods, and he leaves them to it. 

Nojiko wipes her face, puts her hands on her hips, and starts ordering him around.

Half an hour later Zoro is covered in soot and filth and happy to be free of the strange beast that is a crying Nojiko. She's still upset, which makes sense. 

Nojiko poured love and time and money into making her apartment a home, a nice one, and a business. Most of her stock is in storage, thankfully, but she's lived here for almost a decade. The knickknacks and décor, things from her travel. The one-off furniture and hand-made things from friends. Photos from before smart phones, thank-you cards from her first clients- there's a whole life worth of things she won't be able to rebuy. 

Zoro had signed the lease, turned up to Harvey Norman, and put a stack of cash on the counter. Told them he didn't want anything that was hard to clean. He ended up with a lot of black leather and chrome. 

Nami said it looked like an early 2000s executive suite, and told him to think about the benefits of growing a personality. He hadn't taken her advice. His only sentimental things were from the girls, magnets on the fridge. Pictures from Zeff and Kaya's infamous business Christmas party. Fake plants because real ones would die. 

"You're putting a towel down in the car," Nojiko tells him, when they've escaped to the back parking lot and shoved the mostly-empty bags in the back of her car. Zoro rolls his eyes, but obliges. He's sweated through Luffy's shirt, and there's no denying the amount of ash streaked up and down his arms. All over Luffy's shirt and the gym shorts that he should probably just burn. His joggers are wet and black with grime.

"Can you drop me at the shopping centre?" Zoro says.

"You don't want a shower?" Nojiko says, eyebrows at her hairline, "You're disgusting."

"Thanks," Zoro says, "But I need work clothes."

"Oh," Nojiko says, "Fair enough." She stares at her steering wheel. Touches the dangling beads wrapped around the rear-view mirror. They're illegal, and a gift from her mother. Zoro watches the people standing around in the car park. 

"I should probably get some clothes too," she says eventually, and starts the car. Zoro doesn't comment on her driving, which is wild on the best of days. It's not the best of days.

They manage to get a park in the shade, so it's immediately a slightly better day. 

Zoro gets a trolley and makes a beeline for Kmart. Nojiko wrinkles her nose, but she must still be feeling off, because she doesn't comment, watching him barely look at things before throwing them in the trolley. Black pants, somewhat the right size. Black tee-shirts. Socks, underwear, some undershirts. 

"You're so basic," Nojiko mutters, "What's your size?"

Zoro expects her to put things in the trolley, but she just types it in her phone and drags him into the lingerie section. She's shuffling through the Bonds underwear, grumbling something about ass coverage, when Zoro realises it's Wednesday. Mrs Katsaros is due to come over and clean Thursday morning. He turns an alarm on his phone for just after four called TEXT MRS K. If he texts her now she'll ring him.

"You don't want bras?" Zoro says, when Nojiko takes control of the trolley and ignores the rest of the stuff.

"From Kmart?" Nojiko says, "Absolutely not. Those dark days are over, and pray they don't come again."

"Because they're ugly?" Zoro says. He quickly follows her out of the section, avoiding looking at anything lacey. 

"No, because they last one wash and then the underwire turns into a shank," Nojiko says, "God, you are gay aren't you."

Zoro shrugs. Kuina was the only girl he'd spent a lot of time with, and at eleven, she wasn't telling him about her bras. 

They make the rounds to a bunch of highly specific clothes stores, and one filled with hundreds of lacey things. He laments his previous lack of sympathy for Usopp. 

They're both legitimately dirty, Zoro leaving marks everywhere he walks. He suspects the only reason they don't get asked to leave is the amount of bags they already have and the way Nojiko grabs handfuls of items and taps her card on the counter without looking at the price. Zoro's used the best parts of his cash. Nami shoves a few things in his bags, waving away his sooty notes.

"What time do you start work?" Nojiko says while they're lined up at the food court.

"Four," Zoro says. It's just past three.

"Shit, why didn't you say?" Nojiko says, frowning at him, "You're not gunna have time to shower."

"There's one at the bar," Zoro says, "Zeff won't care."

"Why do you have a shower?" Nojiko says.

"Wrestling," Zoro says. Nojiko snorts.

"Is there a bed?" Nojiko says, "Shit, you could sleep in the booths. No more commute."

Zoro snorts. It's not a bad idea though. Zoro's not excited about the idea of house hunting. Luffy's spare bedroom probably already has a new drifter. 

Nojiko drops him off, shoving a bag at him, and tells him to wear the red shirt. She drives off with the rest of his stuff, which is rude, but also- it's not like he's got anywhere to put it right now. 

Sanji's in the bar, laptop open in front of him, cracked bottle of red on the table beside him. 

"You're drinking the profit," Zoro says. It's a tired refrain. He doesn't actually care. 

"Mon ami," Sanji says, looking him up and down, "The Salvation Army is down the road. Perhaps you need saving?"

"I'm gay," Zoro tells him, "And no god could save this outfit."

Sanji laughs, conceding the point. He looks tired. He's always tired.

Zoro uses the bar scissors to cut the tags off his new clothes and doesn't ask him what he's doing. It's mid-shift, and both Zeff and the sous chef are hard-asses, so there's no way he's meant to be working. 

"I'm using the shower," Zoro says, which is kind of like asking. Sanji is not, actually, his superior. Zoro only answers to Zeff, but Sanji and Zeff have a weird relationship, where Sanji is sometimes allowed to be in charge and sometimes less than dirt. Zoro's not the poster boy for normal familial relationships though. 

"Mein Gott," Sanji says, his German accent even worse than his French, "Please do."

Chapter Text

When Zoro comes back out, damp and clean, Sanji is gone. The empty bottle of red is in the recycling. He cleans up after himself at least. 

Zoro's out back for a while, checking stock, and when he comes out of the cool room, there's voices in the bar. The front door should be locked, but it's a shitty bolt that Zoro's been trying to get Zeff to replace for six months. Zoro throws his checklist on the staff break table and kicks the swing door to the bar open, fully expecting a drunk, or some shithead kids. 

Instead, there's two cops. The one leaning on the counter is an older white guy, crisp uniform, sour expression. 

"We're closed," Zoro says, automatic, adrenaline surging. He's fine. He's never, actually, been charged with anything. A uniform gets his heart rate up though. Between mutant hunting, his mutations, and whatever the fuck he got up to when he was drinking, there's plenty to avoid getting arrested about. 

"We're looking for someone," the man says. He doesn't seem to like Zoro's tone, lip curling. Expects to get his way. 

The younger guy standing behind the older one- he's familiar now Zoro gets closer. Maybe not actually a cop. Or a shit one, the kind that swings his dick around even off-duty. Zoro picks up a cloth to wipe down the counter, keeping his hands busy, trying to think. 

Stupid name, stupid hair. Three months back maybe- Zoro threw him out on the street after he got too cocky at one of the informal mutant socials. He doesn't know exactly what happened, suspects the guy wouldn't take no for an answer. Big Momma can handle herself- but it's Zoro's bar, and she shouldn't have to. 

"You're banned," Zoro says. The way the guy turns red tells him that he's right. 

"I'm on duty," the younger man says, sniffing. 

"I'm asking you to leave," Zoro says. 

"Where's the manager?" the older one says. Doesn't like Zoro talking to the other guy, waves to get his attention. 

"I'm the manager," Zoro says. It's probably true. He works every night they're open, the only other staff do what he tells them. 

"No," the older man says, "Your boss. The older man. Peg leg."

"Not here," Zoro says. If they can't be fucked going next door to the restaurant, that's not Zoro's problem. Zeff's usually out running errands in between services anyway. Or taking a nap. Zoro kind of hopes they wake him up. Most people only make that mistake once. 

The older guy gives him a narrow look. Zoro gets a knife out, starts chopping a lime. 

"You should consider being more helpful," the man says.

"Sure, sir," Zoro says, "I'll consider."

"We're looking for a mutant," the younger guy says, "There's a price on his head."

Zoro's hands are sweaty. The older guy seems like he's ready to try to get behind the counter. Zoro is reasonably sure that's not protocol, but he's already past the point of thinking these two are by-the-book. Their uniforms say local, but local cops don't give a shit about bounties. They refer to the federal department as soon as the mutant does something that meets a technical measure of bad enough, and Zoro ends up with Mihawk in his bar. 

"Oh yeah?" Zoro says, "How much?"

"Half a million," the younger guy says, lofty, like it's something to be proud of. 

"Alive?" Zoro says, unthinking. It's a mistake. The older guy's attention's back on him. 

"Dead," the older guy says, "Forty thousand alive."

Zoro snorts. That's basically a death sentence. There's a legal requirement for both- no requirement for the amount to match though. 

"Heard he's been seen here," the older guy says.

"You got a picture?" Zoro says, "We see a lot of faces."

"Dark skin, curly hair," the older guy says, "Stretchy arms."

"You'd know him if you saw him," the younger one says, "He's pretty annoying."

The older one grunts, giving the younger one a sharp look. The younger one pouts. It's an odd interaction. Zoro looks between them, looks at their uniforms. They fit well, have the right shoes- probably real cops. Just dodgy? Maybe they're family. Or fucking.

Zoro's running out of limes. He breathes through his nose, slow. Hopes he's not sweating through the nice silky red shirt Nojiko bought him. His phone feels like a grenade in his pocket when it goes off, alarm jingling. 

Zoro wipes his hands on his pants, snoozes the alarm. Makes direct eye contact with the older guy and lies through his teeth.

"I'll keep an eye out," Zoro says, "What station should I call?"

The younger one starts, just a little movement. A tell. 

"Call me direct," the older one says smoothly, leaning over the bar and pulling Zoro's pen out of his top pocket. It's a power play. Zoro once took down a man who spat acid and had arms like tree trunks. This guy is a normie, and his lackey is a wimp. The cops only hire mutants when it's good PR. 

The action also confirms Zoro's suspicion. They don't want him calling anyone at their local station. 

"Sure," Zoro says, taking the number and making a show of slowly typing it into his phone. 

"See that you do," the older guy says, "You'll be rewarded handsomely." 

Zoro nods. That's not how bounties work. 

Zoro stands at the bar until they leave. He gives them a few minutes and then he vaults over the counter and bolts the door, checks the latch with his shoulder. Swings through into the staff room with enough force to startle the two waitresses clocking in. He heads through the restaurant door and collars Patty. 

"Where's Zeff?" Zoro says, and for once, Patty doesn't argue. He removes Zoro's hand from his shoulder, looking him up and down. 

"He's out," Patty says, eyebrows at his hairline, "You okay man?"

Zoro's not okay. Fuck. He's not even sure what to do, exactly. Luffy won't call off the match. Zeff could be convinced, maybe. Cops like that hanging around will kill any business in the bar real quick. 

"Fine," Zoro says, "Just- send him over as soon as he's back, yeah?"

"I'll let him know," Patty says slowly, "Hey, Zoro-"

Zoro heads back next door. Rings Luffy. He doesn't pick up, which is probably a good thing, because Zoro's not sure what he'd say anyway. 

Zoro dithers around the bar and goes back to stocktake and prep, because there's nothing he can do right now. His phone goes off, and he picks up, but its just the snoozed alarm. Heart pounding, he unlocks his phone. Messages Mrs Katsaros, because otherwise she'll turn up to his apartment block in the morning and freak out. 

She calls him instead of replying. Zoro wipes his hands on his apron and picks up before he can think better of it. 

"Hello," Zoro says. He puts on her on speaker, though he doesn't often need to. She makes herself be heard. 

"Mr Roronoa," she says, "This is the third time you cancel in three months. Not good, I tell you. How can I clean for only two hours when there is so much dust?" 

Zoro inherited Mrs Katsaros after one of his first jobs in the city. She was the cleaning lady for a number of the members of a gang, and wasn't particularly pleased to have lost half her clientele to Zoro's tender mercies. She's been in Australia for over thirty years and still sounds like she just landed from Thessaloniki. 

Zoro wonders, sometimes, if she puts the accent on a bit. She becomes very Greek and prone to misunderstanding the moment Zoro annoys her. Kind of like how Zoro becomes a very polite but confused Japanese exchange student as soon as security asks him how he got in somewhere. Zoro probably pays her way too much, but she's never said anything about the wads of cash, or asked him about his work. He doesn't ask what happened to her husband. There's an understanding. 

"Sorry Mrs K," Zoro says, rubbing speckles off some of the glasses, "I probably won't been needing you for a while." It's a distracted statement. He's listening out for Zeff.

Mrs Katsaros is quiet on the line. That's never a good sign. 

"Mr Roronoa," Mrs Katsaros, "I have been cleaning houses for forty years. If you have a problem, you tell me. What is the meaning of this? Alithia? You are needing my services. Have you gone with some cheap company? Who is it- that Jim's Cleaning? Plaka mou kanis! No one called Jim can clean an oven Mr Roronoa, I tell you-"

She's on a roll. Zoro stares at his phone and tries to time when she takes a breath, but she doesn't appear to ever take a breath.

"-or is it that you are drinking again?" Mrs Katsaros says, and pauses. It's like a bucket of ice.

"No," Zoro says.

"Maybe you think I am a silly old woman, ne?" Mrs Katsaros says, "But I have seen many things. You know what it is like to be cleaning when there are young girls laid out on the floor like dolls?"

"No," Zoro repeats. He doesn't. He can't imagine. He's walked through plenty of trap houses, and plenty of nouveau-riche, but he's never had to hang around and mop.

"It is a good thing, to not be drinking," Mrs Katsaros says, "But I don't care. My father was in the war- he could not sleep without tsipouro. It is ten cents now for each bottle. I will take them."

"There was a fire," Zoro says, putting the glass down before he breaks it, "It's not- it was probably on the news."

"You were fired?" Mrs Katsaros says, sounding affronted. Not yet, Zoro thinks. 

"No I mean-," Zoro says, "There was an actual fire. Half of the apartment block burned down."

Mrs Katsaros starts yelling in Greek at someone on the other end. Probably her housemate. Both of their husbands disappeared, declared dead. They seem much happier as widows. He gets jars of lemon curd every now and then. 

"Well- is your neighbour okay?" Mrs Katsaros says. Zoro picks up another glass. She's been wheedling him to ask Nojiko out. He's not sure where she stands on gay men, and doesn't want to be disappointed. 

"She's fine," Zoro says, "I'm also fine." At least one of those things is probably true. 

"Well, good. When you get your new house," Mrs Katsaros says, "You will ring me. Unless it is in West Lake- I hate that place. You will do your own cleaning in West Lake." 

"Okay, Mrs K," Zoro says, "I'll let you know." She hangs up on him, already yelling in Greek again, and Zoro runs his hands through his hair. Mrs Katsaros never had any children. 

When Zoro was little, he used to think about what his real family were like. 

Daydreaming, thinking maybe he had aunties and uncles somewhere. Grandparents. A real Japanese family, who would have taken him for dango, instead of walking him to the fish-and-chip shop for slush puppies. In his head they looked like the old people in a Ghibli film. They bought him everything he wanted, and never made him do chores, and taught him cool stuff like karate.

Translated movies weren't super common in the nineties. Koushirou tried, but language education wasn't his strong suite and Zoro was more interested in learning swear words than proper Japanese grammar. 

Zoro wasn't the kind of kid that would have fit in somewhere polite anyway. 

Zoro hears the staff room door swing open on the restaurant side, and the distinctive clunk of a prosthetic. He shoves his phone in his pocket, heart rate back up through the roof. 

"I don't come at your beck and call, boy," Zeff says, swinging through the staff room door. He's in plain clothes, a stripey shirt, and looks tired.

"Cops were here," Zoro says, stepping around the counter, "You need to cancel Luffy's match."

"There's a lot riding on that match," Zeff says, looking up at the match board. Hot Rock is crossed out, the main match blank. Luffy's still in the warm-up slot, his opponent crossed out. 

"You want this place crawling with cops and scum like Mihawk?" Zoro says. It's too emotional. Zeff gives him a sideways look, the kind he usually reserves for Sanji's tantrums. Zoro's chest feels tight, and he swallows around a lump in his throat. 

"You don't know these guys," Zoro says, can't stop himself, feeling his cheeks heat up.  

"There's no bounty," Zeff says. 

"If Mihawk's even looking, there's a hundred more hunters on this," Zoro says. He crosses his arms so he doesn't do anything stupid.

"Listen good, cowboy," Zeff says, throwing a whiteboard marker at him, "There is no bounty." The marker hits Zoro in the chest and clatters to the floor.

"Just because Mihawk didn't take the job," Zoro starts, staring at the pen, "Doesn't mean-"

"Are you thick?" Zeff says, "You ain't the only one with connections. I looked into it, the minute that toff left. There's no bounty out on the kid."

Zoro shakes his head. It doesn't make sense. 

"If there's a job out on him," Zeff says, "It's personal. Ain't nothing on the government ledger."

That should be a relief. Maybe it is, but all Zoro can hear is his blood rushing in his ears. 

A personal job. Luffy, laid out on his hideous shag carpet in a pool of blood. Zoro, too late again. 

"Where you been sleeping?" Zeff says, "The girls said you're not getting your place back."

Zoro blinks at him. Zeff sounds far away. 

"It's fine," Zoro says mechanically. His stomach is churning, mouth filling up with that telltale hot sour spit.

"Be right back," Zoro says, and Zeff says something, but doesn't follow him, thank fuck.

Zoro makes it to the stall in the men's before he throws up. He tries to be quiet about it, swallowing everything back while he throws two fistfuls of the single-sheet toilet roll in the bowl to mask the sound. Then he's heaving, chunky, the sandwich from lunch and milky coffee, until he's just gagging and what's left of his bile burning the back of his nose. His hands are shaking, knees throbbing against the hard tile. 

It's not an unfamiliar feeling- it's just been a while. No drinking meant no hangovers. 

Zoro sits beside the bowl, ready to assume the position again if needed. It's not like a hangover though- he's pretty sure he's done. This used to happen sometimes when he first started, after a bad job. Any time there was a lot of blood, or the person fell down the same way Kuina had. 

Zoro presses the palms of his hands hard against his eyelids, until he can see swirling shapes. Leans forward against his knees, jaw clenched, whole body tight.

When his teeth start to hurt, he gets up and cleans the toilet. Washes his hands and face, rinses his mouth out.

Zeff must have gone back to the restaurant, because he's alone when he comes back out. 

Zoro breathes deep, relieved. Patty probably came looking for him- it's not long until they're meant to be seating guests.

Zoro focuses on getting the bar ready. It's just him again until one of the newbies come in. Zoro's meant to be training them, but Zoro can already tell he's going to be useless all shift, and resolves to have them do any job that puts them far away from him. 

It's a long night. 

Zoro's got the liberty to call close when he wants, and he kicks the few customers out at nine. When the kid, Kaden or something, finally finishes mopping and Zoro locks him out, Zoro goes into the break room to sit down for a bit. The restaurant still has lights on, end of shift clean-up going strong. Patty spots him through the swing door and pokes his head in. 

"You got a lift sorted?" Patty says, "We'll be done in twenty minutes."

"All good," Zoro says, "Just resting my feet. I need new shoes."

Patty laughs, shaking his head at the state of Zoro's joggers.

"Don't let Zeff see them," Patty says, "They're fucking rank, man."

Zoro huffs, gives Patty a nod, and is left alone. He checks his messages. 

In the group chat, Nami and Nojiko are sending rental listings back and forth, arguing about natural light versus location. Zoro love reacts to Nami's joke listings that appear to be the most crack-den properties she can find, and switches over to text. There's no missed texts, or calls. 

Zoro stares at his own call from earlier, the older texts about the room on Queen St. Presses call before he can think about it.

He doesn't expect Luffy to pick up. Nearly hangs up on him when he does, two rings in.

"Hey Zoro!" Luffy says, voice bright and tinny, "Sorry I meant to call you back! I think I used too much glue and I fell asleep. The smell was so strong!"

Zoro stares at his phone.

"Zoro? Hello-?" Luffy says, "Hang on, I'll put you on speaker-" There's scruffling noises.

"Hello?" Luffy says, sounding different, "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Zoro says, automatic. 

"Good!" Luffy says, "How are you?"

"Fine," Zoro says. There's a few seconds of silence, where Zoro can hear Luffy breathing. 

"How was work?" Luffy says, sounding a bit tentative.

"Fine," Zoro says. Something like shame curls up in his stomach. He's not sure how he expected this to go, exactly. 

"Okayyyy," Luffy says, "Well, I pretty much just glued stuff on my costume and passed out today-"

"There were cops here earlier," Zoro says, "Looking for you."

"Oh," Luffy says, and is quiet for a moment, "What about?"

"Didn't say," Zoro says, "Just wanted to know if we'd seen you."

"What did you say?" Luffy says.

Zoro frowns. What the fuck kind of question was that? 

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Luffy continues, "You gotta take care of yourself, Zoro." 

He sounds like he means it. He always sounds like he means it. Zoro wants to hate him. 

"I didn't tell them shit," Zoro says, "Just warning you. There's something dodgy about it all."

"Dod-gy?" Luffy says, like it's a foreign word. Maybe it is. 

"Off," Zoro says, "Weird, you know. Zeff says there's no real bounty out on you, so it's someone who just wants to fuck you up."

"Oh," Luffy says, "Well, that's good." Is it?

"Do you have anyone-?" Zoro starts to say, thinking like it's his own job.

Does the person live with anyone, do they have pets, do they have people coming and going? When's the best time to strike?

Luffy's quiet.

"Do I have anyone for what?" Luffy says after a bit. 

"You shouldn't be alone," Zoro says, "How many people know about that apartment?"

"Oh," Luffy says, "Um, probably a lot of people. Backpackers mostly though?"

Luffy's not exactly easy to forget. All it would take is one of the hostel staff who was more permanent, more willing to talk to police. 

"Do you have anywhere else to stay?" Zoro says, "A friend's place?"

"I don't know," Luffy says slowly, "I don't really want to go somewhere else."

"You're going to die," Zoro says, "They're sending people after you who are actually good at their job."

Luffy's quiet. 

"You are very worried about me," Luffy says, slow. Zoro can feel heat creeping up the back of his neck. Behind him, the restaurant lights are clicking off. He picks his phone up, turns Luffy off speaker. Listens to him breathing in his ear. 

Luffy doesn't say anything. Zoro stratches at one of the stickers on the staff table. The kitchen staff pile into the staff room with a wave of food and bleach smells, chattering and collecting their bags. Zoro waves at Patty, who's giving Zoro a strange look, slamming the locker with his phone pressed up against his own ear. 

"What are you doing later?" Luffy says in his ear.

"It can't be me," Zoro snaps.

"Why not?" Luffy says. He doesn't sound upset. Just curious. 

"Because," Zoro says. He doesn't really have more than that. 

"Okay," Luffy says eventually, "If Zoro thinks I should." Zoro rips the sticker off the table.

"You want to fight Saturday night," Zoro says, stilted, "Zeff won't let you in the ring if you're already injured." 

Its an equivocation. An excuse to keep talking. He should hang up now.

"Will you be there?" Luffy says.

"Yeah," Zoro says, "It's- I'm working."

"Good," Luffy says. There's a rustling noise, like he's moving the phone around. 

"Hey, Zoro-" Luffy starts. 

"I have to go," Zoro says. He hangs up before Luffy can say anything else.

Chapter Text

Sanji's outside, leaning against his shitbox car with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Nami's standing with him, a backpack over her shoulder. Nojiko's parked up next to him, sitting on the drivers side with the car door open, phone on her knee. She looks up when Zoro comes over.

"Hey," Zoro says, glancing between them. 

"This is an intervention," Nami says bluntly, "Get in Sanji's car or we'll break your kneecaps."

"I don't think that's how interventions work," Zoro says. He takes the backpack, which he assumes is his clothes. If he's lucky, it's also his money.

"You're thirty," Nami says, "It's weird and creepy for you to be sharing a room with the nineteen-year-olds from Austria."

"Age is just a number," Zoro says, and Nami rolls her eyes. Zoro's the one who is anal about checking everyone's ages. Luffy's the youngest person he's ever knowingly hooked up with. He usually goes for guys clearly older than him.

"No one cares about your daddy issues," Nami says. Sanji watches them like it's a ping-pong match, but doesn't comment, which is suspicious. Nojiko must have gotten to him. Or Zeff.

"Maybe I've already found a place," Zoro says.

"Gumtree guy?" Nami says, "You move quick. Does he make you kiss the squishes goodnight?"

Zoro opens his mouth to reply, and Nojiko cuts in, sounding tired. 

"Just get in the car Zoro," Nojiko says, "I don't want to waste my time worrying about you tonight."

The mood deflates. Zoro looks between Nojiko and her sister. Nami shrugs, clapping him on the arm. 

"Goodnight," Nami says, and Nojiko shuts the drivers side door with a click. The car starts, and sits idling. 

 Sanji finishes his cigarette, stubbing it out on the road. 

"Come on," Sanji says, "She's not going to leave until you get in."

"You don't have to do this," Zoro says. 

"Believe me, cher," Sanji says, looking at Zoro's shoes and wrinkling his nose, "I know."

Sanji turns the radio onto the hits station and ignores him while they drive. He's got a manual gearbox, and crunches through them. Zoro doesn't know enough about cars to comment, but there's something deeply wrong with the way this one turns. There's a blanket of empty Red Bull cans in the passenger footwell that rattle every time Zoro moves. 

Zoro couldn't imagine being twenty-eight and still living with his pseudo-dad, and given the explosiveness of the argument that lead to him moving out, neither could Sanji. Sanji's place isn't far from the restaurant, a walk-up one-bedroom above a dinghy laundromat. 

Sanji sits on a plastic garden chair outside the door and unlaces his work boots. Zoro stands awkwardly on the top step. Downstairs, someone is singing in what might be Portuguese, and an industrial dryer hums, blowing hot air across the stairs from the exhaust on the exterior wall. 

"Take your shoes off," Sanji says, unlocking the door and kicking it open with his socked foot. 

Sanji flicks a switch, and some lamps turn on, spilling warm light onto the stairwell. It's been maybe six months since Zoro and Usopp got roped into moving boxes, but the transformation is palpable. It's clean- immaculately so. The carpet is still five dollars a meter, but it's the kind of classroom blue Zoro imagines it hasn't been since it was installed in the early 2000s. 

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen dominates the space. The original line of fridge, bench, oven, bench has been expanded to include a long island made up of butcher-block-topped moveable counters. Sanji's redone all the silicon by the looks of it, cracked tiles scrubbed within an inch of their lives. The oblong dining table has six chairs around it and a drop light with a pendant in dark blue and bronze. 

There's no couch, just a loveseat and an armchair tucked into the corner with a round coffee table. Zoro drops his bag on the table, trying not to get any dirt on the nice rug. The paint has been covered with a patterned paper on one wall, and a pinkish colour on the others. He's probably not getting the deposit back, but it looks like something from Pinterest. There's lamps. Plants. It looks nothing like the cockroach pit they sat around and ate pizza in on moving day. 

"Right, ground rules," Sanji says, pulling a beer out of the fridge, popping the top with a novelty magnet opener off the fridge. He folds the metal bottle cap in half and throws it at Zoro's head. Zoro catches it, the edges of metal digging into his palm. 

"One- no gentleman callers. Only I get to fuck in this establishment," Sanji says, popping the k in fuck. 

Zoro snorts. The tension is broken though, and Zoro can unclench. 

"Two- weeks, that is," Sanji continues, leaning back on the counter, "You have two weeks and if you're still here, I will personally see to it that every staff member at the Baratie makes your life difficult in ways you cannot yet imagine."

Zoro shrugs. It's a reasonable threat. 

"Three, breakfast is at five," Sanji says, looking at him through his ashy fringe, "And dinner is at seven on days I don't work."

Zoro blinks. He didn't expect that- isn't sure what to make of Sanji being willing to feed him. Possibly, he just doesn't want Zoro using his kitchen. 

Sanji takes his beer and walks into his bedroom, maybe embarrassed by the conversation. Zoro finds the bathroom and spends a bit of time staring at himself in the mirror after he uses the facilities. Something about him must look pathetic. Maybe he needs a haircut. Sanji's got hand towels that match the bath mat and froofy floral soap. The mirror is cracked, but the sink is clean, covered in expensive-looking hair and face products.

When he comes out, Sanji's put a folded bath towel on the armchair and is rolling out what looks like a dome swag. He doesn't seem to know what he's doing, which isn't surprising. Zoro can't see him casually pitching a tent in the bush, except as a euphemism. 

"Do you want a hand?" Zoro says, because there's not really any way to avoid Sanji now he's in the main room. The apartment is homey, but still tiny. 

"It's Patty's," Sanji says, grunting and kicking some of the pieces at him, "There better not be fucking spiders." He's changed out of his uniform, or just stripped off the outer layers. He stands there in a white singlet with his hands on his narrow hips. 

Zoro picks up the bag and peers inside. Well- they won't need the pegs. 

"We can probably just pull the mattress part out," Zoro says dubiously. Sanji blinks at him.

"You're in charge," Sanji says, waving his hand, "I'll find a blanket."

Zoro sighs, and tries not to rip any of the canvas as he wrestles the mattress out. It's a fancy one, actually covered and not just a sheet of foam. While he's rolling the rest of the bits and pieces back up together, he tries to work out how he feels about the team effort. Possibly there's a group chat called "rehoming your zoro". He resolves to think about it later when his mouth doesn't still taste faintly of vomit. 

He texts Luffy. He can't help himself. 

[zoro] u found a place?

He gets a thumbs up. Zoro stares at the emoji. There's no reason to reply to that, so he puts his phone away and argues with Sanji about who gets to shower first. 

Later, Zoro lays out on the mattress and listens to the dryer downstairs. Sanji's main room is washed out in yellowy light, sheers not doing much against the sodium bulb on the street light outside. There's sirens somewhere far away.

He's pressing the sheathed edge of Kuina's knife against his sternum, tip-blade, one-two, a pattern. It's a habit, just a reminder. Grounding. He's just starting to drift off when his phone pings. He glances over at Sanji's closed door and turns it on silent. Turns the brightness way down, eyes gritty and tired. 

[mutant friendly] wats doin

It's 2.14am.

[zoro] trying to sleep

[mutant friendly] LOL sry

Zoro doesn't respond. He waits long enough for the screen to go dark, and then he gets another message.

[mutant friendly] u awak tho?

[zoro] apparently

[mutant friendly] LOL i fnshd costme

[mutant friendly] wnt pic? ;)

Zoro blinks at his phone, rolling over. It's the winky face that wakes him up. He can't assume anything with Luffy though. 

[zoro] sure

He gets an MMS. Opens it. Luffy's taken the picture in front of a full length gilt-framed mirror. The room is unfamiliar. Good. 

Luffy's smiling. His mask hides his curls, and looks especially dumb with the straw hat. There's a lot of sequins. Shimmery gold. The tassels survived the wash. 

[mutant friendly] wat u thnk?

[zoro] nice

[mutant friendly] cn i rng?

Zoro takes a second too long to parse the string of consonants. His phone rings before he can add the vowels back in. He scrambles to his feet, eases himself out the front door before he picks up. It's cold on the landing, concrete damp under his bare feet. 

"What?" Zoro says, as quiet as he can. There's music on in the background. Luffy's that kind of person apparently. 

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says in his ear. Zoro sits on the garden chair. He's never smoked, but there's a tin of Sanji's butts beside him, and he kind of wishes he did. 

"Hey," Zoro says. The song changes in the background on Luffy's end. 

Let's dance, the last dance.

They talk about nothing. Not where they're sleeping, or about Mihawk, or about Saturday's match.

Luffy tells him instead about matches he saw live in Mexico, and Zoro mumbles about seeing Indi Hartwell one time in Melbourne before she went to the states. It's after three when Luffy yawns and tells him to get some sleep. It's warm inside compared to the landing, and Zoro falls asleep with his phone in hand. 

Zoro's never seen Sanji in the morning. He's grumpy enough at work- turns out he's pretty much nonverbal at five AM, stumbling into the kitchen just after dawn. It suits Zoro fine. He's beyond tired, and the two hours he managed just made him feel worse. Sanji pushes a plate of scrambled eggs at him and he leaves the man alone to faceplant into his coffee with a raspy thanks. 

Zoro claims the garden chair on the landing and scrolls through his phone. Nojiko is awake, green circle beside her profile pic. She's always been an early bird. They have their own chat, just him and Nojiko. 

[zentai] hey

Her little picture pops up to indicate she's read his message. She types for a while. Stops. Starts typing again.

Zoro shoves eggs in his face and watches an old man shuffle his walker full of laundry past the bottom of the stairs. 

[no] Hey

Zoro sighs. She typed for way too long for that to be the original message.

[zentai] thanks for the shirt

[no] You're welcome

No emojis, or exclamation marks. It's telling. He doesn't really know how to fix the weirdness. Maybe he can't. His go-to conversation pieces like you working today or can u hear that don't work now they're not neighbours. They don't have any reason to hang out. Nojiko won't need a ropework model until she gets a new place and settles in. Nami changes her own lightbulbs. 

He scrolls disinterestedly through Domain listings for a while. Sorts his email. Finishes his eggs.

Sanji kicks his way out the front door, cigarette and lighter in one hand and a can of Red Bull in the other.

"Up," Sanji grunts. He's got matching pyjamas with little dachshunds on them, a little too short at the ankle. Zoro gives up the seat. He needs a shower anyway. 

When he comes out, Sanji's changed into work-out clothes, pulling on shoes. 

"Going for a run," Sanji says, "You need anything?" He sounds slightly more human. 

Zoro shakes his head, towelling his hair dry. Sanji threw a spare key at his head before he went to bed, and it's not like it's a long way to find a laundry. 

Once Sanji's gone, Zoro looks in the fridge, judging Sanji's beer. Heineken. Gross. He fiddles with Sanji's coffee machine, and gives up when he doesn't find something a simple as pods. Makes black tea instead, the crumpled little sachets of Bushells looking like they're left over from before the move. He stares at the clock above the fridge. It's one of those fancy ones with no hands. 

There's a notepad on the counter. Sanji's written down his mobile phone number, the address, and the wifi password. It's thoughtful. Zoro flips the page over and starts making a list.

- phone charger
- work shoes
- deodorant
- shower stuff

He doodles on the side of the page, trying to think of other things he'll actually need, today. Cash for Sanji, but maybe he should just go with him and put in for groceries. He probably doesn't want Zoro's fire-damaged money. His phone lights up, and he switches it back off silent. Just for now. Just in case. 

It's Usopp. Zoro unlocks his phone, surprised. He rarely gets a direct message from Usopp- most of their interactions are second hand through the girls, or in the bigger group chat that only really gets used for organising stuff like the Christmas party. They don't even have nicknames set. 

[usopp] Hey man what r u doing Friday??

Working, probably. He's usually off Friday night though, because he's on pretty much every other day. 

[zoro] wat time

[usopp] 5pm?? Theres a pole comp

Zoro presses his teaspoon against the back of his hand, the metal warm. Nojiko would normally have invited him, or Nami in the group chat. 

[zoro] ill check with zeff

[zoro] r u performing

[usopp] Yes!! Assessment is today, hopefully make level 4 static

There's a bunch of emojis that Zoro assumes mean things in pole dancing land.

[zoro] break a leg

[usopp] Thank you!! That is a constant fear

Zoro sends a laughy face emoji. It's the end of the conversation. 

He's got about 20% battery, so he checks his banking app and works out where the nearest shopping centre is. Sanji will be back at some point, presumably. Zoro pulls his list out of the pad and scribbles a short note for Sanji so they don't have to communicate more than their usual bare minimum. 

Zoro's switching buses when his phone rings. There's only one old lady right down the front who's chatting with the driver, so he picks up.

"I'm assuming you're not dead, then?" Koushirou says dryly. 

"No," Zoro says, "Not yet."

"Reassuring," Koushirou says. He's at work. Zoro can hear people talking, keyboards clicking. 

"Did any of your paperwork survive?" Koushirou says. He works in immigration. Of course documentation is his first concern. 

"I have my licence and Medicare card," Zoro says, "Will need to replace everything else."

Koushirou hums.

"The birth certificate will be difficult," Koushirou says, typing something, "Don't plan any overseas trips for a while."

"Devastating," Zoro says, "I'll cancel my Bali summer plans."

Koushirou says nothing, but Zoro can imagine, distinctly, his mostly-blank-but-slightly-pained expression. 

"Have you found somewhere new?" Koushirou says. He won't offer Zoro accommodation outright. He'll want Zoro to ask. 

Zoro's not asking. Koushirou's four hours away and fifteen years too late to have Zoro sleeping on his couch. 

"Yeah," Zoro says, "It's sorted." It's a lot easier to lie over the phone. Koushirou can't stare though his soul.

Koushirou's quiet for a beat.

Zoro presses the next-stop button, beeping loud in the empty bus. He can almost hear the gears turning on Koushirou's end. It's not close enough to Christmas to ask about his plans. Zoro hasn't mentioned a partner, so that's a can of worms Koushirou's not likely to open over the phone. Zoro was never the kind of kid to ask after Koushirou's particulars. It would be weird to start now. Also, if Koushirou's dating someone, he doesn't want to know about it. 

"How is the bar?," Koushirou says slowly. Work- that's a safe one these days. Zoro nods at the bus driver and steps off, looking up at the hideous outer shell of the new shopping centre. 

"Good," Zoro says. No one has died yet. They make alright money sometimes. 

"Good," Koushirou says, stilted.

"I gotta go," Zoro says.

"I will organise for a new birth certificate and passport," Koushirou says, sounding relieved. 

"Thank you," Zoro says. 

"You're welcome," Koushirou says, and hangs up on him. Their relationship isn't normal, maybe, but it's a lot better now he's further away. Now he picks up when Koushirou calls. Zoro touches Kuina's knife where it sits under this shirt, just for a moment, not wanting anyone to notice the shape. 

He's back by lunchtime, and does some laundry. Sanji's out again, evidenced by the loquacious note he's left Zoro, saying "OUT". Zoro snorts. He charges his phone. Scrolls through rental listings. Slim pickings if he wants to stay local and go through an agency. He favourites a few, mostly because he feels like he should. 

He goes to work. Sells some alcohol. Does not obsessively check his phone.

The match board looms. He doesn't notice, not until he's looking for a pen, caught between three orders and a useless junior. Luffy's been wiped off the warm-up, moved up to the main match.

Zoro knocks the whiteboard markers all over the back bench, half of them falling in the ice. 

NO SOMBRERO vs BUGGY THE CLOWN

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes up late. His phone's ringing. 

He picks up before his eyes are even fully open.

"Yeah," he grunts. Sanji's out already- he has vague memories of the front door closing, and the apartment has that empty void feeling. 

"Hey Zoro!" Luffy says, too awake. Zoro groans, rolling over off the mattress and laying out flat on the carpet. It stretches out his back. He's getting too old to be sleeping on the floor, foam padding or no.

"Are you working tonight?" Luffy says, chipper like Zoro's given him a warm salutation. 

Zoro squints at the clock over the fridge. Without hands, it's hard to tell, but it's something like 11am. An unfortunately reasonable time to call someone, so he musters some focus.

"No," Zoro says.

"Good!" Luffy says, "Are you busy?"

"Yeah," Zoro says, not thinking.

"Oh," Luffy says, sounding deflated.

"Why?" Zoro says, rubbing his eyes and blinking, "What were you thinking?"

His heart rates picked up, and he glares at the ceiling. They're not friends. Zoro has so far resisted the urge to add Luffy on any messaging app, or send creepy clown pictures. He's assuming Zeff has already given Luffy the lowdown on Buggy.

"My friend has a thing on tonight," Luffy says, "I wanted to invite you!"

"What time?" Zoro says, because he's stupid and doesn't know when to shut himself up. He should hang up. This call clearly has nothing to do with being hunted by some unsavoury character. 

"Uh- I think it starts at five," Luffy says, and then his voice is muffled, "Hey Usopp- what time is-?"

Usopp.

There's not many people out there in the wild world with that kind of name. 

Zoro thumps his head on the carpet a few times just to check that he's actually awake, and in the faint hope it will rattle a few brain cells loose. It's like that snake Nojiko talks about in one of her rope demos. Eating its tail, an endless loop. In the end, it all leads back to this idiot. 

"Luffy," Zoro says, "Where are you right now?"

"Oh, my friends place?," Luffy says, "It's in the fancy part of town. William St."

"Upper Range?" Zoro says. He sits up, kicking the sheet back onto the mattress. 

"You know it?" Luffy says, sounding thrilled.

"Yeah," Zoro says, "I know it. What are you doing for lunch?"

Luffy is guilelessly excited at the prospect of getting lunch together. Zoro tells himself the heat crawling up the back of his neck is irritation. He leaves Sanji a note, showers, and dresses with the expectation he won't be back until after the competition. They text back and forth, stupid, meaningless shit. 

Luffy's outside. He's found a cat, and is trying to coaxe it into being petted. Zoro sends pics of the bus floor, and they debate what the splattered stain might be. 

The bus lets him off at the end of Kaya's street, all fancy wrought iron gates and immaculate hedges. He rings Usopp, because Luffy's not the kind of person to remember a gate code. He wouldn't need one. He could just spring launch himself over. 

"Hey man!" Usopp says, sounding a bit confused. He'd picked up though, which is gratifying.

"I'm outside Kaya's house," Zoro says, "Can you let me in?" Kaya's house, because it is, for all that Usopp's been living hand-in-glove with her since that incident with her previous fund manager. Usopp's a bit weird about claiming anything as his, for all his grandiose stories. 

"Sure," Usopp says, rustling and yelling in the background, "Not that I'm complaining, but- why so early? The comp's not for ages."

"I'm having lunch with Luffy," Zoro says. 

"Luffy-?" Usopp says, and the gate buzzes open, so Zoro hangs up. He makes a beeline for the back yard. He wants to be wrong. He's not.

Luffy's squatting down next to the pool, long fingers in a pretending-to-have-food kind of shape as he beckons to a fat tortoiseshell cat under the tiki bar who looks about as impressed as Zoro feels. He's barefoot and wearing a green button-up with big pineapples all over it, matching shorts tight against his thighs. 

"Hey Zoro-!" Luffy says, in a breathy high-pitched voice like he's trying to whisper, "Help me pat the kitty!"

"Her name is Worcestershire," Zoro says, "She only likes Kaya."

"Oh," Luffy says, sounding defeated. He flops down on his ass on the tile. Zoro comes through the gate and sits on the pool lounge, crossing his legs at the ankle, and his arms across his chest. Luffy leans back and tilts his head at Zoro.

"You know Kaya?" Luffy says. 

"I know Kaya," Zoro says.

"Cool," Luffy says, "Maybe we could see if she's busy? And get lunch together?"

"How do you know Kaya?" Zoro says. He's tired, maybe, of avoiding the meshed-together links. Zeff, Nami, Garp, and now Usopp and Kaya. Maybe they've all known Luffy for ages. Maybe Zoro's the only one so far out of the loop that Luffy was a wrecking ball, and they're all used to it.

"I met Kaya in León," Luffy says, "She is so smart. I think she was in some trouble, so I helped her out. And then she helped me when I said I wanted to come to Australia." 

Kaya was overseas for a while, travelling. Usopp complained the whole time, but never to Kaya. That was years ago now. Luffy chatters about how cool and pretty and nice Kaya is. Zoro watches him talk, feeling something cold and lumpy in his stomach. He wasn't awake for breakfast, so he can't even blame Sanji. 

"Why did you want to come to Australia?" Zoro manages, feeling like there's a rock in his throat. 

"My family is here," Luffy says.

It's not really an answer. It seems like one, and Luffy's all wide eyes and smiles. Ten years of sniffing out bullshit stories, and thirty years of telling them informs Zoro that's not the whole truth. Zoro's never had to interrogate someone that he didn't have at knifepoint. He looks Luffy over. It's not a fight he can win, unless he takes Luffy by surprise.

Luffy licks his lips and leans forward.

"Hey Zoro-?" Luffy starts. 

Usopp comes out of the house, calling out to them. Luffy leans back and waves. 

"Hey guys," Usopp says, opening the pool gate, "What's up?" He's looking between Zoro and Luffy with a crease in between his eyebrows. Confused, maybe. He's still kind of chickenshit though. He wants to ask how they know each other, Zoro can tell. 

"I found Worcestershire," Luffy says, "But she does not want to be my friend." He sounds forlorn.

Usopp laughs.

"Worcest is the worst," Usopp says, pronouncing them the same, "We had to take her to the vet one time. Man, I thought I was going to bleed out, she scratched me up so bad."

"Is Kaya busy?" Luffy says, "We are going for lunch!"

"Oh," Usopp says, looking between them. Zoro stares him down. Luffy smiles at him.

It's not clear which makes him the most nervous, but he starts backing away.

"Maybe," Usopp says, "I can ask?"

"Thank you Usopp!" Luffy says, beaming at him, "You are also invited!"

"Thanks," Usopp says, retreating quickly, "I'll just go see Kaya now."

Zoro watches him go. Luffy lays out on the tile, close to the edge of the pool.

"The water looks so nice," Luffy says, "Do you think we could go swimming tonight?"

"We have the comp," Zoro says. He's still considering what trouble might mean. What help might mean, translated out of Luffy-speak. 

"After the competition!" Luffy says, "It's still hot. I turned the air conditioning off because I thought it would not be so bad, and then I woke up because I was so sweaty!" He's sweaty now too, skin shiny in the sun. His shirt is riding up. Zoro has a sharp sense-memory of his tongue on Luffy's skin. The taste of salt. Luffy's hand in his hair.

Usopp wants to do some last minute practice, so they end up ordering food to the house, and Zoro sits next to Usopp and watches Luffy and Kaya speak in rapid-fire Spanish. They're both laughing. Kaya's scar is newer than the faded one on Luffy's face, hers cut from chin to eyebrow. Zoro assumed she would get surgery to fix it, like rich people normally do, but she doesn't seem to care. 

Zoro grips his fork until he can feel the metal dig into his palm. Even if he hurts himself, it disappears a few hours later. Like it never happened.  There's no point. 

They're standing in the carpark later, waiting for Usopp to finish hyperventilating in the back of the car so they can go inside, when Nami calls out to them. Of course she'd be here. She's one of the instructors, probably doing a pre-elite showcase or something. 

"Hey Nami!" Luffy says, and Kaya greets her warmly, kissing her cheek. 

"You look amazing!" Kaya says, and Nami smiles, striking a bit of a pose. She's got her costume on, all sparkly, tiny shorts, glittering brassiere, longs socks and slides. No scuffing her pole shoes outside in the carpark. 

"Hey," Nami says, thumping Zoro on the arm, "How's domestic bliss?"

Zoro rolls his eyes. Kaya and Luffy are back to building Usopp up. At this rate, he's going to miss his routine. 

"Fine," Zoro says, "The hostel was far less pretentious."

"True, but Sanji has soap," Nami says, "And you can finally wash your socks! So convenient!"

"You've spent a lot of time at Sanji's place?" Zoro says. 

"I like his cooking," Nami says, "Don't get it twisted. Sometimes he does poker nights. You should come."

It's an olive branch, maybe? Zoro's still not sure what the deal is. How exactly he'd fucked up. Nami doesn't seem to be upset with him, but she's going to side with her sister in anything more important than where to eat.

"Hey," Zoro says, glancing back at the car, "Is No here?"

"Yeah," Nami says, looking him up and down, "You should come sit with us."

Zoro thinks about asking. Nami has her hands on her hips and looks like she wants him to ask. She's not the kind to pull punches, but he'd rather not start working on second-hand information. He'll try his luck with Nojiko herself. 

"Okay!" Usopp cries, jumping out of the side of the car in tiny shorts, "It's go time!" 

Luffy hollers and laughs, and they loop arms, running full-tilt at the studio building. Zoro shares a look with Kaya. She laughs and grabs Usopp's bag out of the car, pressing the lock. Zoro grabs the bag off her, carrying it in, and they all cram into the corner near Nojiko.

They're late, so all the seats are full. Zoro sits with his back to the mirrored back wall next to their mountain of bags and discarded clothes. Luffy crams himself into the non-existent space next to him, knocking his bare knee against Zoro's. 

Most of the assessable competitive parts are over, heats running earlier in the day. They're down to the last few showcases, the junior classes and the pre-elite, which is part celebration and part showing-off. Nami used to go to the studio across town, that has more elite-grade instructors, but Zoro gets the sense she wasn't happy with their style of instruction. Too competition-focussed. Looked down on the girls who worked the pole for money, maybe. 

Zoro and Usopp went through level one and two exotic together, mostly for fun. Usopp excelled, really enjoying it. They used to mess around after class, when no one was left in the studio but Nami and the cleaning lady. Race to climb to the ceiling, or try out moves they found on YouTube, shitty bass pumping. It's been a while since he's been to the studio.

Zoro watches the level one spin class move through their routine, careful and nervous, and tries to remember why he stopped coming. Claps and hollers along with the rest of the crowd as they finish up. It's not fake. There's the genuine sense of celebration, camaraderie. Everyone starts at level one. Zoro can remember the look on Kaya's face, the first time she managed to pull herself up, properly, feet off the ground under her own power.

Next up, it's Usopp's class. They've combined level two and three for the showcase, not enough students in both, so Usopp's front and centre, visibly sweating. Not good for grip. 

It's all about confidence baby.

Usopp is a beat behind coming out of the first spin, but catches up rapidly, less nervous as the song goes on. It's not a long routine, eight basic moves interspersed with a few showy holds and some good transition work. Usopp's instructor also teaches exotic, and it shows.

The level twos drop down in an end pose and Zoro watches Usopp and the two level three girls move through the last thirty seconds. Luffy's tense, head high so he can see over the people in front. There's always a more difficult one, a showstopper. 

Luffy grabs his hand, and Zoro glances over, startled, almost missing Usopp make an inverted crucifix look easy.

Luffy lets go so he can woohoo through his hands like a megaphone, and Kaya and Nami start screeching on his left. Zoro makes eye contact with Nojiko, head turning automatically to share a look, and they both seem to realise at the same time that they're not really talking. Nojiko looks away first. 

Usopp and the girls join the crowd after their routine, watching the rest of the routines and adding to the decibels. 

After, Zoro goes to find Nojiko. She's out the back behind two big pot plants, smoking a cigarette with Sanji. Sanji glances up at Zoro and raises his eyebrows, stubbing his butt out on the side of the pot and adding it to the collection fertilising the plant. He nods at Zoro and leaves them. 

Nojiko leans back on the wall, watches him approach, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

"Hey," Zoro says. 

Nojiko takes another drag. She's an ardent non-smoker, most of the time. 

"Nice shirt," Nojiko says. It's the red one. 

"Thanks," Zoro says, "It was a gift from my friend."

Nojiko snorts. She doesn't say anything though.  

Zoro considers her pose, her expression. 

"You're upset," Zoro says. It's stupid, obvious, but he can't think of another way to broach the subject, because he can only guess at the reason.

Nojiko rolls her eyes. 

"Yes," Nojiko says. She tucks her hair behind her ear. It's getting long, bright blue fading at the ends. It's not all she wants to say, so Zoro waits. No one really comes out here- the legal smoking area is on the other side of the building.  Zoro's phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it.

Nojiko flicks ash into the pot plant with a practiced hand. There's a lot Zoro doesn't know about her. He assumes too much. He doesn't want to lose her. She's thinking hard, looking more and more angry. Zoro's running through his possible starters and coming up blank. Everything seems wrong. 

Did something happen? Lots of things. 
Did I do something? Obviously. She's not pissed off at anyone else. 
How do I fix it? Skips a step. Nojiko doesn't work like that. She'll want him to understand. 

Zoro doesn't cross his arms, despite the urge. Something about defensive body language. 

"I'm sorry," Zoro blurts out, and regrets it. 

"Shut up," Nojiko says. She stubs out her cigarette, barely half-smoked, and leaves the crumpled tobacco in the pot plant. Someone will be desperate enough to dig it out. She looks him up and down, mouth pulled down at the corners. Sighs.

"It was fine, I guess," Nojiko says slowly, "It hadn't really hit me, you know?" 

Zoro says nothing. She's not looking for a response. 

"I don't even know how to tell you, like- I hadn't really thought about it," she continues, "I just kept waiting for strata to ring, and it was good to see Nami, you know?"

Zoro nods. She's not looking at him. She's looking over his shoulder, into the middle distance. 

"When we went in, I actually got it, like- everything is fucking gone," Nojiko says. Her voice is scratchy, and she starts speaking faster. 

"And when I went back to Nami's" she continues, "And I was thinking about what I had in storage and what I'd have to replace." 

She crosses her arms, fingertips digging into her bicep. 

"I had your bag, and I realised that was it," she says, shaking her head, "That was all of your shit, everything you have, and you didn't even care." 

"Don't you get how fucked up that is?" Nojiko says, voice pitching higher, "You lost everything! How do you not care?"

She's looking at him now, eyes getting glassy. Zoro's not- he wasn't expecting this.

"I didn't lose anything. I knew you were okay," Zoro says, fumbling over the words, "I just- it's just stuff-"

"It's not just stuff Zoro!" Nojiko snaps, "Don't you fucking get it! You're my best friend! And when I went back to Nami's, and she asked me where you were staying that night- I didn't know! I didn't fucking know! Maybe with some random guy you found, just to have a bed to sleep in!"

She takes a sharp breath, face red. Zoro opens his mouth, face hot, but she steamrolls on. 

"We have so many friends," she continues, harsh and fast, "So many people around us who want to help, who want you to be safe- why the fuck didn't you just ask?" 

"It's not- it wasn't a random guy," Zoro says, hurried, not thinking. He can't- he doesn't know how to answer that.

"What are you talking about?" Nojiko says, "What the fuck are you saying?"

"It was Luffy," Zoro says, "I was- I stayed at Luffy's." It's not the right answer. Nojiko screws her face up and her eyes are watery and Zoro's stomach drops, cold and heavy, because he's made her cry. 

"Luffy? Nami's Luffy?" she says, looking angry even as she wipes tears away, "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you make me think you were out there with some random fucking guy?"

"I'm sorry," Zoro says, and it's like he's watching himself from far away, a train wreck in flames, "I didn't- I wasn't-" He's got no end to the sentence that isn't pathetic. Nojiko fills it in for herself, jaw tight, swinging her bag over her shoulder and pushing past him.

"Nojiko," Zoro says, but he's got nothing else. 

"Fuck off," Nojiko says. She disappears into the studio and Zoro stands there like an idiot. 

Usopp pokes his head around the corner of the pot plant. 

"Soooooo," Usopp says, looking as awkward as Zoro feels, "That sounded like it went well."

Zoro swallows hard and stares out across the car park. Most people have already left, dinner on their minds. He considers just walking away. He's done it before. Maybe he could do it again.

Chapter Text

"Luffy wanted to know if you're busy?" Usopp says, "Kaya says you can stay over if you like. Sanji doesn't mind."

"Fine," Zoro says. Usopp's still in his pole outfit, miles of bare tan skin getting goose-pimply in the breeze.

"Your routine was good," Zoro says, stilted, "You deserve level four."

Usopp beams.

"Thanks man!" he says, scratching the back of his head like he's embarrassed. Like Zoro's opinion matters. He's worked hard, and overcome a lot of his fear of performing. Sanji's chatting with Luffy and Kaya outside, and Usopp ducks inside to say goodbye to his instructor. Nami and Nojiko are notably absent, and Sanji looks him up and down like he's peed on the rug. He doesn't say anything though. 

"You are coming over tonight?" Luffy says, smiling at Zoro. Either oblivious to the awkward tension, or deliberately obtuse. 

"If that's okay with Kaya," Zoro says, glancing at her. She smiles at him, a small thing. 

"The more the merrier," Kaya says, "It has been far too long. Sanji- you are welcome to join us?"

"Thank you, ma charmante, you are too kind," Sanji says, "But I think I would enjoy a night of peace and quiet." Without Zoro is the unspoken end of that sentence, and Kaya laughs, warm and bright. 

"You are a good friend," Kaya says, and Zoro watches, amused, as Sanji goes a bit red. 

Kaya's house is enormous, but they only use one wing. Zoro ends up next to Luffy, in a cream-and-gold guest room that is a bland kind of fancy. Down the hall on the left, the second kitchen is all chrome and black glass, and the dining area opens out into the pool area. On the right, there's a sunken living room area, a mountain of floor cushions and pillows around a gas fireplace and big screen. Even ignoring the rest of the house, Zoro can't imagine just Kaya filling up the space. 

Usopp and Luffy are wrestling in the den, and Kaya gives him a tour, all soft voice and warm expression. Zoro nods politely and tries to work out where the best exits are. They sit around in the living room, air-conditioning blasting, and eat enough pizza to feed a small army. 

Kaya and Luffy are back to speaking Spanish, rapid-fire and lyrical. Usopp tells him about his latest adventures, and Zoro listens with half an ear, watching Luffy gesticulate. He's not particularly hungry, his conversation with Nojiko hovering over his shoulder every time he stops actively thinking about something else. 

"Bed time, I think," Kaya says, looking over at Usopp. At some point, he's trailed off and started snoring, head on Zoro's shoulder.

"Can we swim in the pool?" Luffy says to Kaya, all eager expression.

"Sure," Kaya says, "As long as Zoro doesn't mind supervising." There's something teasing in her tone, and Luffy looks- embarrassed?

"I am getting better!" Luffy says, "I will not drown!" Zoro stares at him. Luffy smiles at him. 

"Goodnight boys," Kaya says, hauling Usopp up with a surprising display of strength, "Don't stay up too late."

"Descansa, amiga!" Luffy says, swinging his legs back and forth like a kid in a movie. Kaya laughs. 

Then there's just Zoro. 

"We don't have to go in the pool," Luffy says, crossing his legs, hat in hand, "We can do whatever."

"No," Zoro says, "It's fine. It's a good night for it." 

Outside, the humidity presses down, and Zoro's sweating even before they find towels. There's a little pool house, with a shower and cupboards full of supplies. Kaya is rich. There's a spa area at the top of the pool, and big shade sails. The full tiki bar, waterproof canvas pulled down over the drinks area. There's turned-off lights all around the sides of the pool, and Zoro tries to find the switch. 

Luffy kicks off his thongs and balls his shirt up inside his hat, cannonballing himself into the pool. He takes a while to come up, gagging and flopping around. Zoro watches, concerned, but Luffy finds the edge and holds on. Kaya wasn't joking about supervising. 

"You can't swim," Zoro says. Luffy gives him a thumbs up and a waterlogged smile, nose running.

"I am learning!" Luffy says, "It is going well!" 

Zoro watches Luffy's limp doggy-paddle and unties his shoes. He hadn't really intended to get in as well, but there's a pretty solid risk that he'll have to dive in anyway. Might as well pre-empt the disaster. He pulls his shirt off and undoes his belt, knife holster shoved in beside his socks. Thankfully, he wore underwear. 

Luffy cheers as Zoro dives in. It's not particularly graceful, but he doesn't belly-flop, and Luffy is apparently easily impressed.

"You can all swim so well," Luffy says, leaning back on his elbows and poking his toes out of the water.

"You didn't learn at school?" Zoro says, treading water. The water is cold, refreshing. 

"No," Luffy says, "It's not really a thing at home. Maybe if you join a swim club or something- some of the fancy schools have pools." His curls are heavy with water, slick against his forehead. At home. So maybe the move here is not permanent. 

"Kaya said there is lots of sharks," Luffy says, "I haven't even seen one yet though."

"Do you really want to?" Zoro says. He can see the headlines-

Mexican Man Befriends Tiger Shark: Only Hat Found

"They're so cool!" Luffy says. Zoro snorts, ducking his head under water and pushing his hair off his face. When he comes back up Luffy's closer, staring at Zoro even as he struggles to tread water, chin and mouth below the surface.

"Maybe you should stay by the edge," Zoro says, quiet, because it's just them.

Kaya's neighbours are a while away, and the house is empty except for Kaya and Usopp. Luffy looks behind him, at the house, and then stretches his arms out across the pool. Zoro looks down into the water, trying to see, and then Luffy's right in front of him, bow wave splashing. 

"What are you doing?" Zoro says. Without the pool lights, Luffy's mostly in shadow. Zoro can make out the whites of his eyes, and the curve of his smile. 

"Swimming," Luffy says, held up with rubbery tension. Zoro squints at him, because he's getting closer, and Zoro's caught in the net, Luffy's arms on either side of him. Plenty of chances for him to get away, but Zoro's not stupid. He reassesses Luffy's interest. 

Luffy inches closer still, and Zoro scoops water, pulling himself backwards into a flip. He ducks under the dark line of Luffy's arms, aiming blindly for the spa end of the pool. He can feel Luffy try to grab his leg, and wriggles out of the grip, launching himself off the bottom and breaking to the surface just before the stairs. 

Luffy's laughing, water churning. Zoro floats backwards, feeling for the stairs with his feet. Luffy's- kind of swimming. For all the long arms and legs, he's not getting much traction. Zoro walks backwards up the stairs, folding at the knee rather than standing up, and bobs his way back down into the little spa area. 

"Can I join you?" Luffy asks, standing up and leaning on the sides of the stairwell.

"Only if you turn the jets on," Zoro says, leaning back on his elbows and flicking water at Luffy. Luffy smiles, and stretches out, slapping wildly at buttons that Zoro couldn't make out in the dark. The lights down the end of the pool turn on, and the jet behind Zoro's back splutters to life. It's powerful. He ducks his shoulders below the water, enjoying the pressure on his tight shoulder muscles. 

Luffy seems a lot more confident in the shallower pool, which was Zoro's intention. He also seems to take the invitation as an excuse to get up in Zoro's business. Luffy grips the pool edge beside Zoro, pulling himself in close. Zoro lets him, standing up a bit so he can get closer. Brings their faces up to the same level. 

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says. He's backlit by the soft glow of the pool lights. It's still dark at this end of the pool. 

Zoro glances up at the house, considering the probability that they'll be interrupted. Low. 

"Hey," Zoro says, spitting out pool water. Luffy watches his mouth. 

"I'm glad you came over," Luffy says. Zoro rolls his eyes, and kisses him.

Luffy makes a noise and kisses him back, close enough for their chests to bump and their legs to tangle. Luffy's warm, even in the cold water, and Zoro puts his arm around Luffy's waist so he can't float off. Luffy's keen, tongue sliding into his mouth, pressing Zoro back against the jets and the edge of the spa. Zoro shifts, gets a better angle, wrapping his other arm around Luffy's shoulder so he takes Zoro's weight. Luffy groans into his mouth. 

It's been a long time since Zoro just- made out with someone. It was the kind of teenage stuff that guys didn't do that much, hooking up. Or at least, not the kind of guys Zoro usually let himself get picked up by. It's hot though, Luffy eager and sweet, and every now and then- savage. 

When they run out of breath, he pulls on Zoro's hair and sucks marks under his chin, not seeming to care about taste of chlorine. Zoro sucks in a breath when Luffy bites down hard on the thin skin of his collarbone, maybe remembering what made Zoro cum last time. It's cold in the pool, so he's slow to get hard, which doesn't seem to be an issue for Luffy when Zoro reaches down and grabs him through his shorts. 

"Yeah- hey- Zoro," Luffy says, mouth wet and open against his neck, "Can I- Can I try something?" 

"Sure," Zoro says, distracted by the throb of Luffy's cock in his hand. Zoro's never sucked anyone off in a pool before. He's thinking about it, working out the logistics of how he gets Luffy to not drown while he blows him, and then Luffy turns him around, pushing his chest up out of the pool. 

Zoro grabs the edge, startled, and manages to avoid losing a nipple to the gritty tiles. The spa end is shallow enough that he can still touch the bottom. Luffy grabs his hips, moving him around, mouth hot against the bumps of his spine. 

"Hey-," Zoro starts, looking back over his shoulder. Luffy smiles at him, and yanks Zoro's underwear down his thighs, heavy with water. Zoro bends his knees with the movement, dipping below the water, and Luffy huffs, gripping his hips tight and lifting his ass back out of the water. 

Oh. 

Zoro looks down at where his hands are spread out on the tile and feels his face heat up. Straightens his legs out, so the he's balanced on the balls of his feet. Luffy likes that, murmurs against the small of his back and puts his palms on Zoro's cheeks, grip casual and possessive. His hands feel hot on his skin, body cold from the water, and Zoro shuts his eyes when Luffy spreads him out. Water is still running down his back, dripping cold down between his legs. 

Luffy mutters something to himself, and shifts his grip, one hand disappearing for a moment before his palm connects with Zoro's right cheek. Zoro twitches, more from the sound than the sensation, their wet skin making the slap crack before the heat of the impact even registers. 

Luffy does it again and again, not alternating, just bringing his palm down hard on that same cheek until the sting is too much and he can't stop himself making noise, biting down on his forearm hard enough to feel the connective tissue crunch. 

Zoro kicks back at him, foot slow in the water. It doesn't connect, but Luffy stops anyway, huffing against his skin as he gets closer again. 

"So pretty," Luffy says, and Zoro rolls his shoulders, resisting the urge to kick him again. The red is probably already fading- it's not like it'll bruise. Luffy would need to really mean it.

"Hurry up," Zoro says, because sure, the chance of them getting caught is low, but it's not zero. Zoro likes being invited to Kaya's. 

Luffy huffs against his wet skin. Grips Zoro by the inside of the thigh, fingers digging in and holding him there. Zoro expects him to bite him or something, maybe spread him out, and groans into his forearms when Luffy grabs his dick instead, pumping the shaft and putting his tongue all over Zoro's balls. 

He's sloppy, all enthusiasm. Spits on his hand so he can wrap a tight wet palm around Zoro's dick and alternate between sucking Zoro's balls into his mouth and lapping greedily down the side of his shaft, dragging his dick back far enough to get his tongue under the head of Zoro's cock. 

Zoro can feel his cheeks burning, face hot against the cool skin of his arms. He's getting hard so fast its kind of embarrassing. This is not the kind of skill he expected to be demonstrated on a Friday night in Kaya's backyard, but he's not about to tell Luffy to stop. Luffy pauses, grip tight around the base of Zoro's dick, mouth close enough to Zoro's perineum he can feel his breathe against his wet skin.

"Come on," Zoro grunts, shifting, maybe shoving his ass into Luffy's face- just a little. In case its not clear that he's into- whatever the fuck Luffy's decided he's doing back there. 

Luffy laughs. Zoro can feel it, and it makes him shudder. Luffy must have wanted permission, or something, because he licks from Zoro's balls up to his hole and starts jerking him off faster, intent, tongue lapping at his  hole until he's gasping. Luffy doesn't let up- once Zoro's wet enough, loose enough, he stiffens his tongue enough to start pressing inside, matching wet little thrusts with the pace of his hand on Zoro's cock. 

It's not enough to stretch him out, but he's sensitive, not used to this kind of attention, and its good, it feels so good-

Zoro bites down on the inside of his cheek hard enough he can taste blood, and then again a minute later when it heals up. The pain is meant to be distracting but it just makes him harder, Luffy's grip on his dick increasing in pressure every time Zoro makes a slightly louder noise. Luffy leans back for a moment and breathes deep against pinked-up skin of his ass cheek. Presses his teeth in hard enough to make Zoro twitch, feeling the sting just this side of piercing, deep and painful. He wants it- Luffy to bite.

"Can you cum like this?" Luffy says, like he's asking what Zoro's favourite colour is. When Zoro doesn't answer so much as breathe hard though his nose, inhaling chlorine, Luffy lets go of his death grip on Zoro's thigh and spreads him out. Zoro stares at the dark tile and tries to focus on the way the pool edge is rubbing gritty against his lower ribs and not at the way Luffy is staring at his hole. 

"I think maybe Zoro could cum like this," Luffy says, quiet, his voice all fucked up. Leans in, lapping at his hole, and Zoro's calves are burning from holding himself in the right position to let Luffy use both hands- one playing with his balls a little too rough and one stripping his dick like he's taken Zoro's suggestion of hurry up to heart. 

Zoro's heart is pounding, nipples tight in the cold air, and Usopp better not come out for a nightcap or someshit because Zoro's making all kinds of very incriminating fucking noises and fuck, fuck, fuck-

Luffy spits on his hole, tongue alternately lapping flat and wet and stiff again as he really gets into it, shuffling closer and closer every inch Zoro gets shoved up out of the pool. Zoro remembers that he's stretchy in time for Luffy to hum, pleased, while he shoves his tongue in deep and catches the side of Zoro's cock with the edge of a nail- and that's it, he's gone, cumming all over Luffy's hand and the side of the spa.

Zoro moans, way too loud, hips jerking. The comedown is quick, Luffy not letting up, and Zoro hisses and nearly skins his chin on the tile as he tries to escape Luffy's grip, slippery with his cum. 

"Fuck- Luffy-," Zoro gasps, and Luffy lets him go. Zoro didn't realise exactly how much force he was exerting to try to escape until he's rolled over and gasping a foot away from the edge. He stares up at the moon. It stares down at him. Judging, maybe. Luffy creeps right up to the edge of the spa, and Zoro glances over in time to see him licking Zoro's cum out of the webbing of his fingers.

Zoro groans. Throws an arm over his eyes so he doesn't keep staring. 

"You're a freak," Zoro tells him. Luffy laughs, just loud enough to be heard over the spa jets. 

"That kind of sounds like a compliment," Luffy says, and he's lifting himself halfway up out of the pool, onto his elbows on the side so he can stare at Zoro with dark eyes. 

Zoro knows this because he's staring too, which- fuck. So much for a one-time thing. Zoro wants him again already. His brain is kind of foggy. He's thinking about how he gets Luffy close enough to touch when Luffy pulls himself out of the pool entirely, a bit unsteady and splattering water everywhere all over the the tile and Zoro. He slaps the pool jet button with his bare foot and offers Zoro a hand. 

Zoro stares up at the hand, and the hard dick he can see tenting Luffy's shorts. He takes the hand, lets himself be pulled up on unsteady legs. Luffy lets him crowd closer, but spins him around when Zoro makes a grab for his cock, marching him towards the little pool house with warm hands on his biceps. 

"Shower time Zoro!" Luffy says, and then doesn't let Zoro blow him. Zoro's kind of annoyed that they're actually showering, all sudsy under the hot water in the frankly obnoxious pool-house showers. 

"Come to m' b'droom?" Luffy says instead, gargling bubble-gum mouthwash. He still tastes faintly like chlorine when Zoro kisses him, but the effort is appreciated. Zoro's never gotten off on someone being polite before. 

"Sure," Zoro says, and then kisses him again before he can say anything stupid. Zoro can acknowledge that it's probably a bad idea, and maybe he's avoiding thinking about tomorrow night, but- its been twelve months since he got fucked by anything but his own bent three fingers and Luffy's strong.

Zoro can take him.

Chapter Text

They sneak inside, wet feet squeaking on the kitchen tile, and make out for a while on Luffy's unmade bed.

"Can I-," Luffy says, grabbing him, "One sec-"

Luffy's lucky Zoro's got fast reflexes. Zoro barely misses Luffy's nose with a kneecap and lands, tense, knees on each side of Luffy's head. His hair is wet, curls damp against the thin skin on the inside of Zoro's bent leg. Luffy hums, sounding pleased. Zoro shifts, realising the position. Real people, in the real world don't sixty-nine. 

Zoro can't argue the pornographic position when Luffy grabs his dick, dry palm just on the edge of too much as he pumps his shaft, breath hot on the tip of Zoro's cock. Luffy's hips twitch, and Zoro zeros back in on Luffy's cock in his hand, probably a strangling grip. He shifts his grip, spits on the head. Tries not to get distracted by the way Luffy grabs his balls, casual, rolling them between his fingers like he knows how much that makes Zoro leak. He's not hard again, not yet, so he's sensitive, struggling to control his breathing. He could- he could ask Luffy to stop. 

It's bright in the bedroom, and Luffy doesn't give him a break, sucking the tip of his mostly-soft cock into his hot mouth and licking around the head. He keeps one hand tight around Zoro's balls and reaches around his thigh, raking his blunt nails up the back of Zoro's thigh and grabbing his ass. It's the same cheek he spanked red before, put his teeth in, and the sting has faded away to almost nothing. Zoro moans anyway, trying to pay attention to Luffy's dick, throbbing in his grip. 

Zoro leans down, sucks on the head, nearly gags himself when Luffy snakes his fingers down between his cheeks and presses the tip of his finger back inside. His spit is mostly dry, the pool water no substitute for lube, and Zoro moans on the two inches he's managed to keep in his mouth, shutting his eyes. Luffy pushes until he's got one finger to the second knuckle, drawing back, pressing in again as he squeezes Zoro's balls tight and sucks on the head of his dick. Fuck, fuck, fuck- 

He's nowhere near coming, barely even hard. It's too much- he's too sensitive, but like fuck he's stopping. He wants it- he can feel everything. Sweat drips into his eyes, chilly on his back where the air-conditioner blows full strength at the bed, and it's like he's got cotton wool in his ears, focusing in on Luffy's body underneath him. 

Luffy eases back, just a little, and Zoro can focus for long enough to attempt to reciprocate, pumping Luffy's shaft and bobbing his head, getting a better angle so he can actually blow him properly. Luffy turns his head, leaving Zoro's dick alone for long enough to suck in a breath. He's leaning back, stretching away from Zoro, fucking around with something, distracted. 

Distantly insulted, Zoro starts to get back into rhythm, working his way down, swallowing the salt of his pre-cum and the lingering taste of chlorine and sweat. Luffy moans, thrusting up into his mouth, and Zoro gags, throat tight, and maybe if he was someone else, that kind of pain wouldn't make his cock twitch. 

Luffy stretches out underneath him, pulling himself up between Zoro's legs. It should move him out of Zoro's grip, but he's stretchy, so Zoro's still gagging on his cock even when Luffy licks a stripe from his balls up to his hole, tongue hot and wet. 

"My bite is gone," Luffy says against his cheek. Zoro pushes himself up, swallowing his spit, and gets up on his knees enough to twist around and look at Luffy. His torso is stretched, all rubbery. 

Zoro should probably be more freaked out about it, but Luffy's got Zoro's ass in one hand and his dick in the other, looking up at him with dark eyes. There's lube on the bed beside him, a big pump bottle, and a towel. A pack of condoms, the latex-free kind. There's a joke about rubber there somewhere, but the implication just makes him swallow again, throat clicking and sore. 

Presumptuous. Zoro bites his lip. 

"Bite harder," Zoro says, "Maybe it'll stay." It's a joke. Maybe. 

Luffy tilts his head. Looks him over, down his naked back and ass and to where he's slowly dragging his palm up and down Zoro's slowly filling cock.

"Zoro can fix them?" Luffy says. He sounds curious. 

Zoro licks his lips, considering. It's not the kind of thing he tells people. Too risky. There's a limit, surely, to what he can heal. Realistically he should be in a lab somewhere. Maybe he could cure cancer or something. When he was a kid, it used to bother him. They'll just die of something else, Kuina said, Something stupider. He tries not to think about it.

"Hey-," Luffy says, and Zoro can't keep looking at him, pulling one of his legs over and dropping onto the bed beside Luffy, top to toe. Luffy lets him go, thank fuck. Zoro's bendy, but there's a limit. He looks up at Luffy, spread out on the bed and slowly shrinking back to a normal human shape. Maybe he's ruined the mood. 

"Yeah," Zoro says, rolling onto his side and running a hand up Luffy's tan thigh, aiming for his dick, "I can fix them." He doesn't have a choice- it's not something he turns on and off. It just happens. 

Luffy sits up, leaning into Zoro's space. Zoro looks up at him through his lashes, head propped up on one folded arm even as he rubs a thumb up the groove of sensitive skin where Luffy's groin meets his thigh. He's never really played coy. It's hot, though, the way Luffy looks at him stretched out on the bed naked. Like Zoro's something edible. 

"Do you like it though?" Luffy says, running his fingernails up Zoro's leg, pressing harder as he reaches his hip. Harder again up the thin skin of Zoro's ribs, enough that it hurts, a sharp deep pain as his nails bump over Zoro's rib bones like he's close to breaking the skin. Luffy watches him, watches him bite his lip.

"Yeah," Zoro says. At some point, between getting shit-faced and picking fights, all the wires got crossed. 

One of his first hook-ups, cock-sure and off his face at a cheap bar in Sydney, was with an older guy, real mean. Zoro had started it, not sure if he wanted bruises or something else. He'd choked Zoro on his cock for twenty minutes, slapped him around, and then choked him for real, fucked in between his thighs with his hands around Zoro's throat and said all kinds of fucked up shit. Left him on the bathroom floor. In hindsight, it's the kind of thing a guy should really be in jail for but- fuck. It's been over a decade and Zoro still jerks off sometimes thinking about it. 

Luffy nods, pressing his fingers against Zoro's bottom lip.

Zoro opens his mouth, sucks his fingers in, tongue down to the webbing and lips pulled tight. He's not really sure what the game is. Luffy already knows he likes it, so maybe it's just something Luffy wants to do. Zoro grabs Luffy's hip so he's not tempted to move. Some guys like that- like it when he just takes whatever they give him. Luffy gets up to four fingers, the corners of Zoro's mouth wet with spit and stinging, before he twitches and seems to come back to himself. 

"Is there some things you don't like?" Luffy says, thumb on his bottom lip, and Zoro swallows. There's potential here. Zoro's not pushy- he's not going to make Luffy do anything he's not into. The chance that he might be into it though, the chance that he might want to fuck Zoro up good- it makes his heart race. 

"No knives," Zoro says. Luffy nods and blinks at him. Waiting, maybe. Awkward.

"That's-," Zoro starts, but maybe that's all is a bit much. Normal people probably have more boundaries. There's things he'd rather not do, given the option. 

"No shit, piss," Zoro says, "Don't fuck with my eyeballs. No kiddie stuff. I'm not wearing diapers."

Luffy goes red, mouth open a little. 

"Unless-?" Zoro says, blinking at him. It's not really his thing, but-

"Oh, no-" Luffy says, laughing and leaning back, "That's- that's fair. No problem. I was thinking more- like, if you don't like blindfolds or something."

"Oh," Zoro says, feeling his cheeks heat up. Luffy just looks at him, smiling a bit. Doesn't seem to care that his dick is hard and an inch from Zoro's hands. Zoro's getting cold in the blasting air-conditioning, and isn't sure how to get the mood back. It's not normally drawn out like this, where they're just- fucking around. Talking. 

"If you want to stop," Luffy says, leaning over so he's on his side, head propped on an elbow to mirror Zoro, "Will you tell me?"

Zoro shrugs, shifting closer. Luffy's warm, and puts his free hand on Zoro's hip. 

"Sure," Zoro says. His face still feels hot, embarrassed. 

Luffy seems like he's hard to piss off, so Zoro's usual routine probably won't get him too far. Maybe assertive isn't a bad idea though. It's getting late. Luffy has a match tomorrow, for all that he seems content to lay around and stare at Zoro. Besides, Zoro's in the mood to get fucked. Maybe fuck Luffy, if he's into that. 

Zoro sits up a bit, pushing Luffy's shoulder until he's laying back on the bed. Luffy smiles at him. Zoro huffs and reaches over, aiming for the lube. Luffy's already hard, and Zoro likes friction, so he only pumps enough to get his fingers wet and throws the packet of condoms at Luffy's chest.

"Put it on," Zoro says, reaching back and pressing a finger into himself. 

Luffy sits up, grabbing him by the hip and kissing him, all tongue. Zoro shudders, leaning on his shoulder. Luffy kisses his cheek, his chin, and Zoro can feel his shoulders bunch up- too sweet- and then he puts his mouth on Zoro's neck and sucks hard enough to bruise, digs his teeth in when Zoro hisses. It's a test, maybe, because he draws back to look at Zoro, pupils blown wide. 

Zoro tilts his head back and leans forward a bit, so he can press a a second finger inside himself. 

Luffy licks his lips, and his grip on Zoro's hip tightens, nails biting. 

"I can take it," Zoro says. Whatever makes Luffy's eyes bright like that- he can take it. 

"Zoro will have to be quiet," Luffy says. 

Zoro can feel himself smile. Its a challenge, and Luffy leans in, condoms falling on the bed as he shoves his tongue back in Zoro's mouth. He creeps closer, getting up on his knees, sucking hickeys all down Zoro's neck, and Zoro's not- disappointed- but he thinks, maybe, that's it. Some teeth, maybe some bruises. It'll be good. It's fine.

Luffy reaches behind Zoro, rakes his nails down Zoro's back on one side, cupping his ass, grabbing Zoro's wrist with his other hand. Zoro stills, two fingers twisted inside, breathing hard. Luffy tugs his wrist, and Zoro slides his fingers out, breaking the kiss so he can bite down on Luffy's clavicle, shiny with sweat. Luffy slides long fingers between Zoro's cheeks and presses against his hole. Playing. He's softened up, can feel himself twitch, but there's not really enough lube, and he groans when Luffy pushes, fingertips of two fingers spreading him wide. 

Luffy hums, sounding pleased, and grabs him by the backs of the thighs, flipping him over and shoving his face into the bedding. Zoro catches himself with an aborted yelp. Tries to organise himself into a more dignified sprawl, but Luffy winds his arms around his waist, catching his arms, pulling them behind his back and stretching across his chest to catch the front of Zoro's neck in his palm. 

Zoro stares at the bedspread. Wriggles, testing Luffy's hold. 

Luffy huffs a laugh against his back, hot breath on his chilled skin. Luffy's hot all over, even where he's stretched thinner like a rubber band. Zoro bucks, and Luffy tightens his hold, pressing his fingers against Zoro's jugular in a possessive grasp. It's not quite enough to cut off the bloodflow.

"Harder," Zoro grits out. Luffy presses a kiss against his spine and obliges. 

Tighter, tighter, a boa constrictor, and Zoro struggles, really, actually struggles, kicking back with his feet and hissing when Luffy just shuffles and rubs his forehead against Zoro's sweaty back. Luffy's cock is hard against the back of Zoro's thigh, precum smearing hot and wet against his skin, and Zoro groans. He's hard again too, between the kissing and the rush of being held down, cock throbbing and ignored against the nice bedspread. 

"Harder," Zoro says, head spinning. 

Luffy hums again, and twitches, squeezes, grinding Zoro's forearm bones together, pressing his ribcage tight, crushes his larynx enough to make the delicate bones click. Zoro whines, breath running out, circulation cut off in mutiple places, stabbing pain everywhere the bones connect and grind. Luffy holds him there, too tight, until Zoro's vision is spotty and he can't, it's so good, but he can't- 

Luffy unwinds, loosening, throwing Zoro sideways on the bed so he's face up, gasping for breath. As soon as his arms are free Zoro comes up swinging, and Luffy laughs, bright and loud, catching his fist and slamming Zoro's arm down on the bed. Zoro kicks, and Luffy grabs his calf, presses in between his legs and folds his leg back against his chest. It's a stretch, muscles aching with tension. 

Zoro wraps his other leg around Luffy's waist and pulls him closer, grabbing his shoulder with his free hand.  They're twisted up around eachother. Luffy's cock leaks all over the inside of Zoro's thigh where the skin still smarts from being held that touch too much. Zoro lets go of Luffys shoulder to palm his own dick, watching Luffy lean in and stare down at him hungrily. 

"Fuck me," Zoro rasps, throat fucked. Whatever Luffy sees on his face makes him lean in, licking the sweat off the side of his face. He's so fucking weird. Zoro bites into the kiss and Luffy bites back, laughing into his mouth. He throws Zoro's leg over his shoulder and grabs Zoro's sweaty hair in a tight grip, pulling his head to the side and sucking on his earlobe. 

"Zoro should ask nicely," Luffy says quietly. Zoro can feel himself twitch, a tiny reaction. Luffy's all over him though, skin on sweaty skin and he can feel it- can tell. Luffy mouths down his neck, sloppy, and bites his collabones, but he's waiting. Pointedly, not fucking him. 

Zoro doesn't make a habit of begging. He's not above it. It's just- there's a certain degree of vulnerability in making it sound believable. Luffy grinds down on him slowly, rubbing against the groove of Zoro's thigh. They're going to need another shower. Zoro shuts his eyes, breathes hard into the quiet bedroom. 

"Luffy-," Zoro starts, "Fuck me." 

Luffy ignores him. He's pressing Zoro's leg right to the edge of the limit of Zoro's flexibility, and is sinking his teeth into the swell of Zoro's pectorals with the kind of methodical precision of a man who eats rare steak with his bare hands. Zoro can feel the jagged edge of one eye tooth, sharper than the rest. It makes him breathe harder, press his chest out harder.  

"Luffy-," Zoro says, "Come on- just- fuck-"

Luffy switches sides, finding Zoro's nipple peaked against the cold, and laves his tongue flat and wide over the skin. Switches to sucking the nipple into his hot mouth when it makes Zoro shudder. Luffy's bites sting hot and bloody, and everywhere he's licked is rapidly cooling in the air conditioning, tingling and wet. 

"Please," Zoro hisses, "Please- fucking-" 

Luffy looks up at him from where he's latched on. His curls are wet and messy, spilled all over his face, and he's more pupil than iris. Zoro can feel his own face hot and flushed, and the angle Luffy's holding his head can't be flattering, but Luffy releases his nipple with a slick pop and gives him a heated smile. 

"Okay," Luffy says. Zoro blinks at him. Luffy drops Zoro's leg off his shoulder, lets go of his hair, and leans back on the balls of his feet. The bed's soft enough to sink into, and Zoro huffs as the tension in his thigh and calf release. Luffy empties the condom box all over the bed, ripping one off the folded strip with a childish glee. 

"I hope these are big enough," Luffy says, reading the back as he tears through the wrapper. It's more to himself than to Zoro, but- what the fuck?

"It's not that big," Zoro says, grabbing for Luffy's cock, mostly to reassure himself. He likes a lot of kinds of pain- big is good. Tearing too much would get messy though. Kaya's guest room is not some random seedy motel. 

Luffy bites his lip and looks down at Zoro, condom a wet ring in his hand.

"It can get bigger," Luffy says. There's something like a question in his tone. Zoro stares, then glances between Luffy's face and his dick. 

Oh. Well, it makes sense. All of him is stretchy. Zoro mostly wanted the condom for easy clean-up anyway. 

"How big?" Zoro says. 

Luffy shrugs. As big as he wants, then. Zoro's staring at Luffy's dick now. He can't help it. It seems to like the attention, twitching under his palm. 

"I don't want to hurt Zoro," Luffy says, and Zoro snorts.

"Well, not badly," Luffy says, gently brushing Zoro's bruised ribs with his free hand, "I want it to be fun, you know?"

"Fun," Zoro repeats, slowly dragging his hand down Luffy's shaft. He's so warm. He's got an expandable dick. Luffy hovers on his knees, condom in hand. 

Zoro realises Luffy can't actually put it on while Zoro's absently jacking him off, and lets go of Luffy's dick, shuffling back. Watches Luffy pinch the condom tip and roll it down. Practiced. He's confident. Luffy looks young, sure, but- the guy's twenty-eight, single, and has an expandable dick. Who wouldn't fuck around? 

Zoro's not sure how he feels about it. He squirts one pump of lube on his hand, slicks up his dick and decides he doesn't feel anything about it, except the expectation that Luffy lasts at least five minutes. 

"How do you want me?" Zoro says, when it looks like all Luffy's going to do is stare at Zoro again, hand on his condom-covered dick. It's flattering, but also- Zoro wants to get fucked some time this century. 

"Oh, uh," Luffy says, shuffling back and standing off the side of the bed, "I was thinking-" He waves his arms in some pantomime motion, grabbing the towel. Zoro doesn't sigh.

"Just put me where you want me," Zoro says. 

Luffy blinks at him, and then obliges, yanking Zoro's legs out from under him and dragging him to the edge of the bed. Ass off the side, Zoro has to hold his core tense so he doesn't keep sliding off. The bed is high enough he can only just touch the ground. Luffy looks pleased, running his hands up the sides of Zoro's legs. He digs his nails in hard enough to leave red lines on his skin, and Zoro tilts his head, breathing picking up. 

Bring it.

Luffy grins, shifting Zoro's hips, and pushes in between his legs. He leans down, one hand sinking into the bedspread beside Zoro's head, and kisses him, all tongue and teeth. Zoro kisses back, grabbing Luffy by the hair and making it filthy. 

Luffy groans, and Zoro can feel the head of his cock smearing lube between his cheeks. Luffy settles in, shifts his hips. Gets the angle right to start pushing inside. Zoro grabs Luffy's hip, fingers digging in deep. 

Finally. 

Zoro's not particularly prepped, and not particularly wet. Luffy's cock has a big head, and the widest part of the tip is a stretch, stinging and tight. Zoro gasps into Luffy's mouth. It's an intimate kind of pain- so fucking good. Luffy keeps pushing where Zoro would have paused, and he groans, feeling the heat of Luffy's cock as he keeps pressing in with shallow jerks of his hips. 

Zoro must be tight. Probably too tight. They're going to tear the condom. Luffy moans and bites down on Zoro's bottom lip hard enough to tear the skin, slowing right down as he presses in deeper and has to really push against the tightness. Has to make Zoro take it. 

Zoro sucks his bloodied lip into his mouth and swallows a mouthful of coppery spit. When he opens his eyes, Luffy's staring down at him, mouth hanging open. 

"Fuck me," Zoro hisses, digging his nails into Luffy's hip, "Come on."

Luffy licks his lips, nodding. Starts out slow, experimental, watching Zoro's face. Thrusting steadily, stretching him out. It hurts, the kind of ache Zoro wishes would last until the next day. Luffy's cock is big enough and the angle is good enough to brush his prostate every time he thrusts in, and it sends zings of pleasure straight up Zoro's spine, pooling with all the other twisted up nerve signals that say bite me, slap me, fuck me up. 

Luffy digs his fingers into Zoro's hip, bone deep, picking up pace, thrusting harder. Leans down and makes a mess of his neck again. Maybe the hickeys were fading already. He's close enough that Zoro's dick brushes against his stomach, achingly hard and desperate for attention. Zoro wants to it to last, and lets go of Luffy's hair to shove his arm down between them. He grabs his balls, squeezes the base of his cock, touching but not enough to get off. Just enough to feel good. 

"So tight," Luffy moans against his neck, "Want to stretch, but-"

"Do it," Zoro says, swallowing, "Do it- Luffy, come on, give it to me-" 

Luffy licks up the side of his face again, where he's dripping sweat. 

"Zoro has to be quiet," Luffy tells him, again, because apparently Zoro didn't get the memo last time. Zoro bites his busted lip and grabs for the sheet, bunching it up to shove between his teeth. Luffy's still thrusting, snapping his hips against Zoro's ass, and laughs when he sees what Zoro's doing. Zoro glares at him, shifting his grip on Luffy's hips so he can dig his nails into a new patch of skin. A warning. 

Luffy leans over and grabs the lube, leaning back for long enough to ease his cock out to the head, pulling the condom back into place. He slathers on enough lube to annoy Zoro, but he doesn't spit out his sheet-gag, because who knows- maybe he'll need it. 

Pushing back in, it's a smoother glide. Luffy's so hot, cock throbbing, and Zoro's sore, so it feels good. So good. All that lube and now Zoro can feel the slap of Luffy's balls against his skin, can hear the noise. The sound of Luffy fucking him. Zoro shuts his eyes, grabs his dick again. It would be so easy to just- jack off. Three strokes- that's how close he is. 

Luffy pauses, shoved in deep. Starts thrusting again, slowly, slowly enough Zoro can feel him getting bigger. Thicker. Zoro pants into the twisted sheet, already soaked with his saliva. It's good to have something to bite down on. Zoro stares at the tasteful crown moulding on the roof so he doesn't look down at Luffy fucking him wide open and cum all over himself. 

Luffy keeps grinding in, slow, thicker and wider until Zoro's breathing hard enough that it's more of a whine. He can feel his hole stretched tight around the base of Luffy's cock, everything instinctual telling him it's too big, too big, too much. He reaches down past his dick and presses fingers down through the sweat and slick below his balls, desperate to feel it. His rim is tight and hot, and Zoro shudders, clenching up unconsciously when he feels how wide Luffy's cock is. How much he's already taken, deep inside. He shuts his eyes.

Luffy's moaning, slowed right down and dripping sweat all over Zoro's chest. When Luffy pushes in again, right to the base, Zoro realises he's stretched his cock out longer too, deeper than anything Zoro's taken before. Zoro breathes through his nose, sharp little breaths as he drools and whines around the fabric. It's so good- it's so much. He can't- he can't- 

Luffy tilts his head up, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

"'S good, Zoro?" Luffy says, sounding as fucked out as Zoro feels. Zoro nods, shifting, and hisses when the motion shifts Luffy's cock inside him. Luffy kisses his cheek.

"Want me to fuck you now?" Luffy says, hot against the shell of his ear. Is he not already?

Zoro nods, feeling Luffy smile against the thin skin under his ear. His self-preservation instinct has never been particularly strong. 

Luffy picks up his pace. Slowly, slowly, no sudden jackhammering- just- fast enough to make Zoro's dick leak and his heart pound, struggling to take it. It was easier, when it was slow- Luffy's cock would make space, and then ease back. Fucking in like this, as he builds up speed- there's no time to recover. 

Zoro's held tight, body tensed, hole fucked out with every slam of Luffy's hips. He's making noise, horrible, embarrassing sounds that the sheet doesn't cover. Luffy yanks it out his mouth so he can kiss Zoro again, drowning him in tongue. Zoro's dick bounces against his stomach and Zoro rolls his balls, grip tight, on the edge of everything. 

"Zoro, Zoro, the- I-", Luffy says, something panicked in his tone.

"Don't fucking stop," Zoro grunts, eyes shut, kicking Luffy  viciously in the back of the leg with the heel of his foot. He's going to cum, and he doesn't give a shit if Luffy's hard for it. Fuck me fuck me fuck me-

Luffy groans, grinding his swollen cock in deep, and Zoro can tell he's cumming. Luffy just keeps going, little jerks of his hips that make Zoro twitch, and when Luffy reaches down to play with his wet, stretched rim Zoro realises the condom is broken. Oh, fuck- 

Zoro grabs his cock, thrusting into his palm, jerking himself off desperately as he cums all over their stomachs.  His hole clenches, helpless against the thick shaft of Luffy's cock. Luffy's still groaning into his neck, rubbing his cum around Zoro's stretched out rim as it leaks out from the force of his thrusts. Zoro keeps pumping his shaft until he's sensitive enough to make his eyes water, listening to Luffy mumble into his neck in Spanish. 

Luffy finishes, eventually. Zoro's edging into real pain, fucked out beneath him, body aching from holding himself up. Luffy's slumped over him, and Zoro can take the weight, likes the burn. He's getting sticky and cold though. Given the amount of cum Zoro can feel slowly oozing out of his ass- Luffy probably doesn't have another orgasm in him. 

Zoro pats Luffy's hair, trying not to get cum in it.

"Hey-," Zoro starts, and then swallows, voice raspy. Luffy hums. Shivers. Props himself up on one elbow and looks down at Zoro. Whatever he sees- Luffy licks his lips and blinks. Glances down their bodies.

"I- it broke," Luffy says, and Zoro shuts his eyes.

"I know," Zoro mutters. Luffy reaches down, eases out of Zoro enough to pull the broken base of the condom back. There's enough cum and lube that Zoro can hear the squelch, and he shifts, everything from his lower back down aching. 

 "I don't- I got some tests done, after we-" Luffy says quietly, "They're at the apartment. I will send them to you."

"Don't go back to the apartment," Zoro says, putting an arm over his face. It's considerate. Good, that Luffy gets himself tested. Luffy pulls out with a wet slide, and keeps sliding, away from Zoro's face and down his body off the side of the bed.

"What-?" Zoro says, squinting down at him. Luffy pushes his knees open wide, leaning in. Looking up at him with a hungry expression, palms gentle on his knee caps. 

"It broke," Luffy says, running his fingers up the inside of Zoro's leg. Through the wetness still leaking out of Zoro's sore hole. Luffy licks his lips again, tongue red against his teeth. 

"I can- help get it out?" Luffy says. Zoro stares at him. Luffy waits a moment, and then takes his continued silence as permission, pressing wet fingertips against the mess. Pressing in. Zoro shuts eyes, and lets Luffy push his legs backwards so he's propped against the edge of the bed properly, feet against the edge of the mattress. Exposed. 

Zoro expects him to use his fingers. That makes sense- saves Zoro the indignity of a quest in the shower. Luffy spreads his cheeks and licks in, tongue hot against the inside of his cheeks, laving over his hole. 

"Fuck-!" Zoro gasps, and bites down on the inside of his forearm. It tastes like salt, and fails to distract him from the way Luffy stiffens his tongue into a point and presses inside his hole. He's doing an abysmal job finding the rest of the condom, but Zoro can barely hear the wet sounds of Luffy enthusiastically swallowing his own cum over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

It's too soon for Zoro to get hard. He's already come twice- there's no way, but it feels good. A hot, wet, wrong kind of good, and Zoro's never had anyone really push him to his limits. His encounters never last this long- or they fuck him up enough to pass out. Luffy hums, switching his grip and pressing in deeper, chasing the taste of himself inside Zoro's body. Everything stretches. 

Zoro crosses his ankles over Luffy's back and nearly rips a hole in the bedding when Luffy reaches up with a slick hand to fondle Zoro's cock. It's soft, sensitive, and he barely stops himself from trying to escape the touch. Luffy's fingers are slick with lube, wet with cum, and Zoro's own cum has barely dried out, sticky against his shaft as Luffy plays with him. Barely jerks him off, just toys with the silky skin, pulling his foreskin down to play with the hypersensitive skin just under the head of his cock. 

When that makes Zoro whine and clench up around his tongue, Luffy switches to playing with his balls instead, rolling them like marbles and then back to pumping his soft cock hard enough to make him kick. Luffy's tongue is longer and wider than it should be, not enough to really stretch him but prehensile enough to press against his prostate again and again, making Zoro's head spin and his vision spotty. 

Luffy keeps up a fevered pace, even as he wraps his fingers around Zoro's balls and squeezes, thumbing hard against Zoro's perineum, pressing his prostate from the outside. 

He can't- he can't- Zoro shudders, orgasm ripping through him even as his cock barely dribbles, limp against his stomach. 

"Ah," Luffy says, leaning back and pulling what's left of the ripped condom out of his mouth, "There it is!"

Zoro blinks tears out of his eyes and groans. 

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes up, and realises that it's Saturday. He leaves Kaya's as soon as the clock over the bed hits six thirty and the buses start running. 

Luffy's still asleep, naked and snoring. 

Zoro goes back to Sanji's and takes a really long shower. Does laundry. Goes to AA. Texts Nojiko, not expecting a reply. That's one of the steps, maybe. He's on edge all day, pressing the rapidly fading edges of the worst of the bite marks on his collarbones. Maybe Luffy said something to Usopp after he left that morning, because by the time he shoulders his way back into the bar after another shower and nap, the girls are already there. 

"Who let you in?" Zoro says, eyeing Nami's eyesore of an outfit. She's clearly had some exposure to the ridiculousness of Luffy's wrestling wardrobe, because she's in a version of her gold pole outfit with the addition of some glittery tasselled fringe all along the seams. The fringe covers just enough of her ass-cheeks to skirt the decent edge of indecent exposure. Zoro can already predict an evening filled with men staring at her ass. Nojiko is more demure, in skin-tight black denim. She's redone her hair, bright blue again. 

"Zeff likes me," Nami says. Zoro snorts. He probably does. She's got a jug of what looks like lemonade, and a sheen on the apples of her cheeks that indicate it is not, actually, just lemonade. Zoro opens the till and punches in a mixed jug, putting the EFTPOS machine on the counter. Nami rolls her eyes and taps her card. 

"You're not even on yet," Nami says.

"Where's Luffy?" Zoro says, throwing his bag into the staff room and not looking at the match board. He ate enough leftover risotto at lunchtime to make Sanji suspicious, so all but the deepest bruises are long gone. He doesn't ache, physically.

"Kaya's bringing the boys in later," Nojiko says. There's still an awkward tension, but Nojiko left him on read for five hours and then sent him three rental listings in a row at lunch time, so. He thinks, maybe, they'll work it out.  

"What's your deal with him?" Nojiko continues, blunt, and Nami's eyebrows hit her hairline, two straws in her jug. 

"There's no deal," Zoro says, "I stayed over one night." Kaya's doesn't count. He's unstacking glass, careful not to sound defensive. There's a beat, and Nojiko throws a soggy coaster at his head. 

"You sucked his dick, didn't you?" Nami says, loud. Zoro glances at the back room. No one cares, but- Sanji's in there somewhere. 

"You've got a thing about dick sucking," Zoro says, "Something you need to tell us?"

"So exactly how stretchy is he?" Nami says, "Does his dick stretch too?" 

Zoro snorts, but he can feel his face heat up, and Nami cackles like a witch. So much for Luffy's super secret mutation. Zoro wonders how long she's known. 

"Oh my god-!" Nami says, "It does, doesn't it!" She launches herself over the bar, and Zoro snatches his cutting board up before it gets an ass-cheek full of sweat. She scrambles up onto the back bench, whiteboard marker in hand. 

"Stretch... Dickstrong," Nojiko reads out slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Zoro sighs. 

"Zeff won't like you anymore," Zoro says. 

Nami pouts.

"It's better than a Mexican joke!" Nami says, blue pen all over the side of her hand. Zoro shares a look with Nojiko, who shrugs. Nami's not wrong.

"Give me the pen," Zoro says. 

Before they open the bar, Zoro tries to impress on them the importance of keeping an eye out for weird people, and cops, without seeming like he's too invested. It's a delicate balance, and Nojiko squints at him the whole time. 

Nami mixes herself another concoction of premix and Grey Goose and asks him invasive questions about Luffy that he answers with questions about her Tindr profile. Sanji told them about the job. Nami's got a purse just big enough for a pistol and Zoro regrets refusing the alprazolam the older lady at AA keeps trying to offer him. 

The bar fills up quickly. Kaden's on the door, eyes wide as he watches the line grow and tries to seem competent. It's hot, air-conditioning working overtime as the seats fill up and start overflowing. Zoro's got two underlings tonight, so Zeff's expecting a crowd. The man himself takes one look at the match board and pokes a thick finger hard against Zoro's chest.

"You're explaining it to every fool who walks in lookin' for No Sombrero," Zeff says, like that's a threat. Zoro shrugs. It's worth it, when Luffy comes in. He's in a baggy hoody and sweatpants, bunched weirdly like he's already got his costume on underneath, stupid shark gym bag over his shoulder. He worms his way through the crowd to beam at Zoro.

"You changed it!" Luffy cries, pointing at the match board.

"Yeah," Zoro says, handing the guy next to Luffy his change. The old guy picks up his beers and escapes Luffy's waving arms as quickly as he can in the crowd. 

"Are you ready for tonight, cariño?" Big Momma shouts from the end of the bar, where she's been stealing cherries with Nami and generally being a pain in Zoro's ass.

"I think so Charlotte!" Luffy shouts, "I am glad you could come tonight!" His smile is blinding across the four ignored people between them. Zoro blinks at her. She smiles, all teeth. Zoro's never really thought about it, but of course- Big Momma's not a real name. Trust Luffy to be on real-name basis with the seven-foot wolf lady. 

There's an upstairs area off the restaurant where the wrestlers usually loiter before shows, so Zoro doesn't have to deal with Buggy and his miscreants in the bar side until right before the match. Buggy's dramatic- he'll have an entrance. Sanji comes through muttering in a mix of English and Alsatian that sounds mostly like insults and starts mixing something colourful, so Zoro assumes that means Buggy's on location.

There's still the warm up fight first, a dude that's gotta be related to fish guy and a lady wrestler who's fast- really fast. It's normally the kind of skill that makes the bounty instinct perk up, but Zoro's heart rate has been near peak since his shift started and he's not paying much attention to the ring. There's no sign of Mihawk, but the two cops from earlier in the week have taken up a corner, flashing badges to steal the table and not ordering anything from the bar. They've settled in though, blatant, and don't appear to be much interested in a raid. Just waiting.

When Zoro turns around, there's a guy at the bar. He's in Luffy's seat, a grey beanie pulled down low. Zoro's already on edge, and he ignores two people ahead of the guy in line because he sets off Zoro's radar like a nuke coming in. The warm-up match is over, so there's a wave of people at the bar waving cards and trying, desperately, to make eye contact. 

"I think these gentlemen were first," the guy says, smiling at Zoro and ducking his head at the other patrons. Zoro grunts, pouring a beer for one of them and waving over one of the waitresses to take the other man's order. 

Zoro can hear Zeff pumping up the crowd for the main match, and the crowded chatter is even louder than the music, but he can hear this guy fine. When Zoro's done with the beer, he tilts his head at the beanie guy. The cops in the corner haven't noticed him, and there's something about his hunched shoulders that make Zoro think he would prefer it that way. 

"I don't suppose you serve Sazerac?" the guy says, leaning in against the bar. He has a tracksuit jacket on, one hand tucked into the pocket, and does everything with his other hand. There's something strange about his hidden hand. The sleeve bunches weirdly all up his arm, like he can't bend his elbow, but it's hard to tell in the dim lighting. Zoro can see him though, because there's a gap around him, an emptiness where everyone gives the man a bubble of space- at odds with the drunken, crowded room. 

"We only have local Green Fairy, nothing imported", Zoro says, speaking louder rather than leaning in, "And Angostura, no Peychaud's." 

Zoro tries to appear disinterested. He can hear blood rushing in his ears, zeroing in on everything about this guy like he's about to reach over the bar and stab him. Every instinct is screaming at him that there's something off, weird. The guy is polite and his body language open, relaxed. He has a kind face, a trace of well-applied makeup over the left side. The accent is bland enough that Zoro could only say its British. Zoro keeps a hand on the edge of the counter so it doesn't shake, adrenaline surging. 

"Ah, too much clove," the man says, smiling at him without a trace of disappointment, "Just a rum and coke, please." There's a joke there, something amused in the corner of his mouth. Like he wants Zoro to think something of his change in taste. 

Zoro nods, turns away to get a glass from the new stacked tray one of the kids from the restaurant haul in. They're low on everything. When he turns back, the guy has his chin in his hand, leaning on the bar top like it's not covered in a sticky mat. Like he's having a lazy afternoon, watching the crowd. No one takes up the empty seats on either side of him. 

Zoro's too busy to stand around, and he tries to keep an eye on him between orders. Between keeping an eye on the cops, the ring, Kaden at the door, the girls down the end, and the actual bar. Kaya and Usopp have joined at some point, and Zoro can hear Big Momma cackling at some joke as she pats Usopp on the head. Maybe it's just Zeff's fine work, but Zoro feels like the place is about to explode. 

He takes a moment to watch Luffy be announced, all glittery gold and stupid mask. He's beaming, ecstatic, bouncing across the room. Waves at the crowd, and maybe at the bar. Zoro can hear Kaya and Nami screech. 

"- making his way to the ring, this masked maestro has undergone a stunning transformation!" Zeff cries, "No Sombrero has embraced a new identity- a new spirit!"

Zoro wipes his sweaty face with some paper towel and washes his hands, aggressively. Zeff is a good man.

"Give it up for the reborn luchador-!," Zeff says, the crowd tense in anticipation, "The high-flying Rey Pirata-!"

There's a lot of hollering, confused at first but gaining momentum when Usopp and the girls at the end of the bar start screaming. Luffy doesn't really look like a pirate. But also, crowd likes him. Or- they don't care enough, willing to go along with it, because they're here to see Buggy. 

When Zoro turns back to the bar, the beanie guy isn't clapping- just looking at Luffy with a soft expression. He turns back to make eye contact and smile at Zoro, sipping his drink. Zoro frowns at the decimated back bar, pulling spare fruit garnishes from the fridge underneath. 

The cops are still seated, just watching. They're also looking at the crowd, like they're looking for someone else. Zoro tries not to fuck up too many drinks while he's trying to get an idea of how big the puzzle is. He's got, maybe, three pieces, and none of them fit. It's been a long time since he's had so little to work on. 

Buggy's entrance is, as expected, dramatic. He has his own announcers, two garishly dressed carnival men that Zeff hands off to with a flourish of his sparkly cape. After Buggy's melt-down last time, it's not worth the power play. 

Buggy hasn't wrestled here in ages- Zoro has seen him in the ring a grand total of once, before he even started working at the bar. Buggy travelled around, carnies something peripheral to Arlong's operations, something to do with all sorts of unsavoury shit. Never with enough evidence to get an official bounty out on him, at least in Australia. Zoro imagines there's a reason he's not still in England. 

People like seeing him though- Zoro still gets asked, every now and then, when that freaky clown is coming back. When Buggy finally tumbles through the swinging door and the crowd screams, Zoro has the gut-churning feeling that he should have, maybe, been a bit more concerned about Luffy's fight. Buggy's grin is savage. 

The beanie guy perks up, drink hovering half-raised to his mouth. Zoro cracks a two-dollar coin roll in the till and watches the crowd react to whatever's going on in the ring. Sanji appears at his elbow, hand on Zoro's forearm, demanding he take a break. Zoro doesn't snap his wrist. It would draw too much attention.  

"You're fucking shaking," Sanji hisses, a bar staff apron thrown over his restaurant whites, "Go watch." 

Nami and Nojiko are standing on their chairs. Zeff is too busy calling in the ring to shout at them, and half the crowd is doing something similar. Zoro shoves his way around to Nami, and props himself up on the same chair, foot hooked on the crossbar. Nami's sweating profusely, bare skin hot against Zoro's side, and she shrieks every time Luffy does a flip. 

Zoro might care more if his ears weren't already ringing. Inside the ring, they're probably more than halfway through the match. Buggy's makeup is getting smeary, and Luffy's sweating dark patches down his spine. They seem evenly matched, and no one's bleeding yet. 

Zeff clearly doesn't give a shit about the ropes tonight. Buggy is formidable, and Luffy can't afford the handicap. 

Zoro watches Buggy split apart to escape a strangling hold and Luffy gets thrown across the ring, slingshotting himself back with the momentum. It seems like a stalemate, like it's a test of stamina more than skill, and Zoro can tell that if there was a script, they're off it. Too much repetition, too sloppy, more bared teeth than actual verbal taunts. Buggy pays attention to the crowd, looking around every now and then, but its not like his normal showy antics. 

"It looks like Rey Pirata is no match for the clown-!" Zeff shouts, like Buggy's at an advantage. Luffy nose is bleeding now, bloodied down his mask to his chin, but he's grinning madly and shows no signs of slowing down. On Zoro's right, the cops stand up. Zoro grabs Nami's arm so he can see around her, watching them slowly approach the ring. They're still looking at the crowd, looking for something. 

Zoro can see the moment Buggy notices the cops, because he stops playing around. They're in plain clothes- Buggy must already know them. Another puzzle piece Zoro can't do anything with, because Luffy shouts, Buggy's confetti move bursting in his face, and Buggy splits himself up rapidly to avoid Luffy's slam, leaving Luffy's back exposed for Buggy to reassemble and grab him. Buggy throws Luffy into a back suplex, slamming him into the canvas. 

Luffy smacks his head hard on the mat and makes a pained noise, and Buggy poses, turning his back on Luffy to face the crowd, detached hands spinning in a flourish that has them shouting. It's kind of weird- Luffy is wide open, and now, apparently, kind of annoyed. It's best-of-three falls for this match. They've both already won a round- Buggy only needs one more good pin. 

Luffy snakes his arms out, grabbing Buggy's arm and legs. Buggy laughs, loud, and splits apart, but Luffy just keeps expanding, hands grabbing parts of Buggy and looping, then stretching out again to reach for another part.  Buggy's only allowed to split apart inside the ring square- he can float above to the ceiling, and he does, grin splitting his face wide even as he awwwwws like losing is an inconvenience in a funny game. 

"It's over Binky!" Luffy shouts, and Zoro would have appreciated the sour expression on Buggy's face as he's crushed together with the rest of his parts, but the cops are three feet from the ringside and starting to shout at Zeff. The crowd is intent on the ring and goes wild at the finishing move, Luffy springing back into shape with a bouncing flash of tassells and joyous laughter as Zeff calls the round. 

Zoro didn't really expect Buggy to let Luffy win- he's rolling around on the mat with the drama of a choreographed loss. Buggy's the sorest loser Zoro has ever seen- this is fake. 

Zeff throws a hand up at the cops, waving them away as he throws himself over the ropes into the ring, cape and boots glittering, and Luffy gets his victory lap, fist high in the air as Zeff shouts over the crowd.

Zoro gets down, heart racing, and catches a glimpse of the beanie guy, about the only person still seated. He's sipping his drink, frowning. It throws Zoro off, his face kind of familiar now he's not smiling, but the guy doesn't move at all, so Zoro starts pushing his way back around the other side of the bar, intent on getting close to the ring. 

Most of the crowd has the same idea though, and the cops are back to posturing and shouting, pushing people out of the way with their badges out. Nami shouts behind him, and he can hear Big Momma call his name. Zeff's forehead vein looks like it's about to burst, but he throws an arm out and points at the cops, bringing them into the narrative.

"As our shiny rubber-man celebrates in the ring, it appears the authorities have arrived-!" Zeff shouts, "Wait- what is happening-?" 

Luffy, the idiot that he is, has leaned out of the ring to talk to the older cop, and the guy grabs his arm, hauling him under the ropes as the younger cop fumbles with a pair of handcuffs. The crowd pulses, people yelling and shuffling to see, confused and excited as Zeff shouts about the twist. 

Zoro's not sure, exactly, what he intends to do, but he's an arm length from Luffy when Buggy reassembles and smirks, leaning over the side of the ring. Zoro's got his arm up the front of his own shirt, the grip of Kuina's knife warm and familiar, then Big Momma grabs him by the back of the neck, dragging him backwards back into the crowd. 

"Don't be an idiot, boy," she hisses in his ear, the tips of her claws punching through his skin like tissue paper, "Not inside." 

Buggy flips himself backwards over the ropes and disappears towards the swing door at the back. Zoro throws a boot back and kicks at Big Momma, intent on escaping, and she wrenches his arm behind his back hard enough to pop the shoulder out of the joint with an audible crunch.

The people around Zoro jump away, horrified, but Zoro's got eyes on the cops, hauling Luffy out the door. Nojiko appears beside him, shouting at both Big Momma and Zoro, and he grabs her arm.

"Fucking follow him!" Zoro shouts, waving at Luffy. Big Momma lets him go, and they all start pushing their way to the door, but it's too late. 

By the time Zoro shoves past the rubberneckers, Luffy's no longer in sight. The street is full of people, overflowing from the bar and still lined up out the front. A cop car is out the front, but Luffy's not in it, the older cop across the road, watching the crowd. Usopp, Kaya and Nami are all pushing their way out behind him. 

"Where the fuck-?" Zoro snaps at Kaden, who looks at him with wide eyes and points shakily towards the laneway.

"There was- a van?" the kid says, and Zoro starts running. He can't be too late. He can't be too late again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

There is a van in the alley, at the delivery entrance, and there's Buggy, throwing a bag in the sliding side door. Big Momma howls, one step behind him. Zoro's faster than normal people. He rips the plastic door handle off the drivers side door, lucky to avoid getting a foot crushed as the wide-eyed driver finally puts his foot down. The van rocks as Big Momma bodily slams into it, and they hit the dumpster with a metallic crunch, but keep going. 

Zoro punches through the glass, hooking bloody hands around the inside of the window of the drivers door. Inside the van, there's a lot of screeching, and Buggy pokes his head through to the front even as Zoro is lifted off his feet as the van picks up speed. 

"Hi handsome!" Buggy says, and disembodied hands pull him inside through the window. 

The broken glass rips through Zoro's shirt, blood rushing hot and sticky all over the screaming driver, and Buggy slams Zoro's head into the dashboard. The rapid pop-bang of the airbag is the last thing Zoro hears. 

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes up when they dump cold water on his head. There's some music, a bit of a show, but Zoro's vision is still blurry and all he can tell is that he's shackled to a board in a t-pose. His shirt is still on, and Kuina's knife is still strapped across his chest. Amateurs. He's been out long enough for Buggy to change outfits. 

It's a half-hearted production. Three guys and Buggy, in an empty warehouse. The rest of the crew must be somewhere else.  No sign of Luffy. 

Zoro waits until they look like they're done, and squints at Buggy.

"What do you want with Luffy?" Zoro says. Buggy's got a split lip. Zoro hopes Luffy put it there. Though, he supposes, there's plenty of people Buggy sees in a day that might want to punch him.

"Luffy?" Buggy cries, eyebrows high and dramatic, "You think I went through all this trouble for the rubber boy?" He throws his arms wide. Theatrical. Zoro doesn't give him the reaction he wants. 

"Nothing, you idiot," Buggy says, smile dropping, "No one except you is actually interested in the kid." 

"Look, I just came here to say- you did me a real solid, taking out Arlong when you did," Buggy continues, rolling his shoulders, "But I got beef with a friend of a friend, you hear?"

Luffy has a lot of friends. It's not hard to believe he'd befriend someone worth this kind of attention. Fuck. 

At least, there's a chance he's still alive. A hostage. Bait, or something, for his more interesting friend. 

"For you though," Buggy says, wiggling his fingers in Zoro's face, "You made a big mess of my van. Cabaji here will have to spend hours getting the blood out. So- it's time to say night-night." 

Zoro doesn't say anything, and Buggy appears to lose interest. 

"Get rid of him," Buggy says to the big guy by the door, leaning in and yanking on the guy's collar, "Make it thorough." 

Buggy stomps out. Zoro considers the flash of disappointment he feels that he doesn't warrant a more dramatic send-off, and then is annoyed at himself. Fucking clowns. 

There's three of them, and Zoro's bolted down with something stronger than him. 

Zoro's not going to win. That doesn't mean he's going to make it easy. 

Zoro waits until Buggy's footsteps have faded and they start advancing, posturing, Clown 1 swinging his bat in circles. Clown 2 looks unarmed, but he's the biggest, fists curled up and mean. 

"I've been waiting a long time to make you suffer," Clown 3 says, rolling a knife in his grip. There's something manic in his expression. Something personal. Zoro doesn't care, but he's not above using it. 

"Easy when I'm tied up," Zoro says loudly, "Too weak to fight like a man?" 

"Weak?" Clown 3 says, high pitched, "Who's weak here?"

"Three on one," Zoro says, "It's not hard to see who."

"Nice try," Clown 2 says, punching Zoro in the gut, hard. With him stepped in close, the bat and the knife are out of play though. Zoro can take a lot of punches. The longer he keeps them talking, the more he heals.  

"Come on," Zoro says, when he's got his breath back. Clown 2 grabs his chin, forces his head up, and Zoro reassess the risk. He's bigger, slower, but there's nothing hesitant in this guy's eyes. He's killed a lot of people. Maybe enjoyed it. Clown 3 is getting impatient, spinning his knife, but Clown 2 seems like he's in charge. 

"Don't you want to make it interesting?" Zoro says. 

"No," Clown 2 says, slapping him. Zoro's head snaps sideways and there's blood in his mouth. Fuck. 

Clown 3 laughs, high-pitched, and swings close around the side of Clown 2 to stab Zoro in the thigh. The knife gets stuck, deep in the muscle and bone, and Clown 2 turns around and punches Clown 3 in the face. Nice. 

Less nice is the way the motion rips the blade downwards in a rush of blood. Not good. If Zoro's unconscious he can't control anything about what they do to him. 

Zoro starts shifting his body, feeling the way the board rocks slightly every time he moves. It's not a permanent fixture- something slapped together. If he can knock it down, then maybe- 

Clown 2 is back, grabbing Zoro around the throat hard enough to crush his larynx, and Zoro can't help the gurgling sounds he makes. The pain is intense, sharp, and the pressure against his throat makes it feel like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull. There's nothing he can do about that though, so he just keeps up the same rocking motion with his body, trying to knock the board off balance. 

"No fun!" Clown 3 says, "I wanted to kill him!" Clown 3 grabs Clown 2, who frowns at Zoro and lets his throat go. Zoro can barely breathe around his crushed windpipe, the injury rapidly swelling. He's offset the board enough by the time Clown 1 can get close enough to swing his bat that the board overbalances as he smashes into Zoro's kneecap. 

The clowns shout and  Zoro lands face down onto the concrete. The board isn't heavy- probably an interior door or something, but Zoro can't protect himself against the fall. His eye socket feels cracked and there's something fucked up in his chest. It's hard to tell because he's barely breathing anyway. Zoro gets a few seconds of peace, and then the clowns are heaving the board over. 

Zoro stares at the roof. Sucks in some air, little gasps, just enough to keep from passing out. 

"How the fuck is he still awake?" Clown 1 asks. The smarter one, clearly. Zoro needs to get loose. 

Zoro twists his hands in the cuffs, rolls his wrists around. Gives them the finger on both hands. 

Clown 3 is instantly pissed off- incandescent. Zoro shuts his eyes and smiles.

"Fuck you!" Clown 3 screams, ripping his knife out of Zoro's leg and bringing it back down into his ribs. It hits bone and goes sideways, slashing through his skin and skating off the side onto the concrete. The fiery line of pain fades fast into the rest of the pain, blood hot and sticky all over his side. 

"Get the fuck out of the way," Clown 1 says, grabbing for Clown 3, "I want to smash his other knee."

"He's giving me the fucking finger!" Clown 3 shrieks, "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"

Clown 2 huffs.

"You want it fixed?" Clown 2 says, knocking Zoro's hand with his boot. He puts his heel down, grinding. Zoro wheezes, letting it sound painful. When Clown 2's done, he curls his finger as best he can, back into the bird. 

Clown 3 screams, and it pisses Clown 2 off as well, apparently. 

Clown 2 slams his foot down, again and again, and crushes Zoro's hand and wrist bones enough that he gets loose of the bent metal cuff, and lashes out with the busted hand, nerves connected enough to claw at Clown 3's face as he leans down to stab him again. Zoro gets two fingers in Clown 3's eye socket, immune to the screaming as he digs his fingertips in and rips out, a gush of blood and eye jelly all over the floor. 

They're all screaming now. 

Zoro's got something like a hand to use, and grabs for Kuina's knife, freeing it in time to slash Clown 2 across the thigh as he drags Clown 3 backwards. It's not enough, but it's good to get the blade wet, one last time. 

Clown 1 swings his bat, smashing Zoro in the side of the head. He can feel the bone crumple, agony and a deeply wrong feeling in his skull, and he blacks out for long enough for Clown 2 get Clown 3 out of the way and bring his boot back to Zoro's shattered rib cage. He's drowning, chest heaving as blood fills up his lungs and the bones stab through his skin and organs. 

It's a relief to black out. 

When Zoro wakes up it's dark. 

Or maybe, his vision isn't back properly. 

Everything hurts, throbbing, pulsing waves of agony that make him vomit, stomach full of blood. 

He's too weak to turn over, and chokes on the coppery bile, feeling it froth and drip all over his chin. 

He passes out again when he can't breathe. 

Zoro wakes up on his side. 

He lays there for a while. Long enough to realise he's not dead. And then agonising minutes longer when he realises that he's not going to die. Not for a long while. He might as well move. Might as well try. 

It's so much more painful than just laying down and waiting.

He's been fucked up before. Never this badly though. 

He vomits again, crying, fingers curled up bloody in the wet leaf litter. Wherever they've left him, it's outside. There's faint starlight filtering through trees, and the background chitter of bugs and small animals. The hum of far-away traffic. Zoro shuts his eyes and tries to pass out again, not wanting to feel the pain. If he's healing, it's slow. 

He's alone. Dumped, presumably. 

A while later, he realises Kuina's knife is gone. It's been long enough the tear tracks on his face have dried, and he squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't start crying again. Somewhere nearby, a bird calls, mournful. Zoro curls up, dragging his aching leg up so he can bite down on the smashed kneecap, so he has an excuse. No one is around to see. 

Eventually, he exhausts his tear ducts. It's tiring, but he's not sleeping here. He shifts his body enough to assess the function of his limbs. His hand is still fucked. He'll probably have to rebreak some of the smaller bones, shift them back into place. It normally takes a few goes, on the more delicate parts. At some point his bladder failed, and he's soaked in piss and blood and mud, shirt ripped open. 

He contemplates moving. Getting up. There's a rise behind him, dark but regular, and the faint outline of a metal traffic barrier. They've dumped him beside a road, hopefully. He's just starting to think about whether he can stand when he hears a car approaching. He's not paying much attention, mostly pleased to have the road location confirmed, and then the car engine shuts off. 

Zoro stills. Stares up the hill. There's beams of light, torches or maybe phone lights, and familiar voices. 

Clowns. 

Surely they're not that stupid?

Then again, they were stupid enough to leave him him somewhat alive. Maybe they're also stupid enough to come back. Zoro lays back down, easing himself into the leaf litter. Gets comfortable. 

He's not tied down this time. 

"-the fuck were we supposed to know we had to burn-," Clown 1 is saying, "-said thorough, not fucking freak-"

"-dead anyway," Clown 2 says, "-breathing was-"

Clown 3's voice is notably absent. Zoro can feel his jawbone creak when he smiles. 

People with torches always think their night vision is a shared experience. They think the things in the dark can't see any better than they can. Zoro can see the jerry can, shoved under Clown 2's arm, and he can see plain as day the gun in Clown 1's hand. They likely just dropped him over the side, because they don't seem to know where to go, beyond vaguely this bend in the road. 

There's only the two of them. 

Clown 1 goes down easy. He's already off balance, sliding down the loose leaves and rubble at the bottom of the hill, the beam of his phone light bouncing around.

Zoro waits until they pass and grabs his arm from behind, snapping his shoulder out of the socket in one motion. It hurts Zoro even more than it hurts Clown 1, but the pistol is loaded and ready when Zoro puts it under Clown 1's chin and blows a hole through his brains. He shuts his eyes so the flash doesn't ruin all of his night vision, and drops the guy as soon as the bits of gore start raining down. 

Clown 2 is a big guy, and he's got his own gun. Zoro shoots for the jerry can, and the guy drops it as soon as he realises, but it's too late. Zoro's no marksman, but he's four feet away and advancing. The petrol tin explodes all over Clown 2. 

Zoro gets knocked back, and rolls wildly in the wet leaves as he feels the heat lick up his legs. It's mostly on Clown 2, who is still screaming. Zoro rolls over and fires the last of the bullets in the pistol magazine, putting Clown 2 out of his misery. 

And then it's quiet. 

Zoro's ears are ringing. 

The guy's body is still burning, spreading in a little circle, but it's rained hard recently. Everything not touched by petrol isn't catching. 

Zoro scrubs the gun over. There's enough of Zoro's blood spread in a twelve foot radius that there's no point, but it makes him feel better. He picks up the cheap-brand Android phone and switches the light off with a shaky thumb. 10% battery. Zoro searches the body of Clown 1. Firing the gun fucked his half-healed fingers up again, so it's slow, one-handed. 

Strawberry gum. Crumpled up napkins with old gum. Gross.

Wallet. Receipt from Zarrafas. A digital watch that glows 02:13. Car keys. Jackpot.

No knife. 

Clown 2 doesn't seem like the type to take trophies, but there's a chance. He limps over, staying out of the burning circle, and squints into the flames. They're mostly smouldering now, the acrid stench of petrol, burned polyester and fatty tissue. No obvious knife sheath.

Zoro pops his gum. It tastes a lot like bile. He can't be fucked trying to put the body out. 

Climbing the hill is a struggle. Something's wrong with his shin, cracked under the smashed kneecap. He ends up on his hands and knees as it gets steeper, rocks and sticks stabbing into his shredded palms. He's filthy, chafing in his soaked work pants, and when he reaches the traffic barrier he's too tired to pull himself over. It's an undignified crawl under, but a relief to sit against the tyre of the clown's beat-up Pajero.

Zoro stares at Clown 1's phone. Its got a picture of a neon green muscle car, and a passcode lock. The notification bar has no new messages that look relevant. Three UberEats marketing emails, a match on Plenty of Fish, and a text from Dominos. Zoro sets an alarm for 10 minutes and shuts his eyes. 

It's kind of like meditating. He works his way up from his toes, focusing on the body part. Assessing. The side of his head and the throbbing ache deep below his stomach- maybe his liver- seem like the worst injuries remaining. If they were going to kill him, he'd be dead already. His hand and particularly his right leg, the one that got knifed, are the most annoying. When he breathes its like little splinters of glass inside his lungs. He's both ravenously hungry and incredibly nauseous. 

Zoro doesn't touch his head. There's something deeply wrong about putting your fingers inside your own skull. He can feel the clotted mass of blood and bone slowly drying out, so it probably wouldn't happen anyway, but-

Dragging himself upright is a chore. The back of the Pajero pops open without much effort, a mess of dirty shoes and Aldi shopping bags. There's a 2L Coca-Cola bottle of lukewarm water that he drinks enough of to make himself vomit again. He leans his forehead against the back of the car and groans. Small sips this time. 

He crawls into the drivers seat, tossing the gun on the passenger seat. The driver was shorter than him, but he's not sure his fingers can manage the dexterity to fiddle with the seat latch. The centre console has a tin of old-people driving lollies and he crunches them between sips of water. His jaw aches, side of his head pulsing every time he bites down.

It's not enough, but it's sugar. 

When he turns the car on, relieved to find half a tank of fuel, the radio connects with Clown 1's Bluetooth and starts blasting Harry Styles. Zoro turns it down a notch, and stares into the cloud of bugs attracted by the headlights. Every now and then his vision un-focuses, splitting into two mirrored images, but he's driven with worse. 

-small concern with how the engine sounds, we held darkness in withheld clouds-

Zoro drags the seat belt over his shoulder, taking a frustrating amount of time to click it in. There's so much pain that only new pain registers, but as long as he sits relatively still, he's not going to pass out. 

-it's all good, hey you-

There's a janky sat nav. Zoro types in Nami's address, smearing blood and dirt across the clouded screen with shaky fingers. He gets the street right the second time.  

ETA 1hr 14m.

-we just keep driving?

Chapter Text

Clown 1's wallet has forty dollars, crumpled in five and ten dollar notes. There's a 24hr McDonalds just inside city limits, next to an Ampol.  Zoro gets the cheapest family bundle with four different full-sugar soft drinks and shoves the gun in the glove compartment, wrapped in a napkin. The kid in the drive-through does a doubletake.

"Walking Dead party," Zoro rasps. The kid laughs nervously, but his shoulders come down.

"Oh- cool," the kid says, losing interest, "Drink tray?"

He parks between two semi-trailers at the back of the petrol station and cuts the engine, turning the lights off. It's quiet and dark, and he opens the car door, eating out the side in case he vomits again. He wipes his hands as best he can so he's not eating leaf litter. Throws the extra buns back in the bag and aims mostly for the meat and cheese, greasy and hot. Takes a moment in between burgers to drink Fanta and stare across the carpark.

He's been trying not to think too much. It hurts, his brain scrambled, and also makes his heart rate pick up, which makes him breathe harder, which makes everything, everywhere hurt more. He'd planned to drive straight through, but food will make him heal faster, and he's not waiting for Sanji to fuck around and make a fancy meal. 

Thinking about Sanji was a mistake, because that's a straight thread through to everyone else. Zoro attempts to straighten out the bones in his busted hands to distract himself, and dumps what's left of the food over the backseat. 

It's going on 4am when he parks haphazardly in Nami's driveway. He's been driving at twenty miles an hour for the last stretch in deference to his spotty vision, but it's still an achievement to avoid taking out the hideous mailbox. There's lights on inside the house, but no one comes out. The curtains twitch. Zoro limps to the front door, leaning on the verandah rail too hard for the questionable quality of the construction. 

He stares at the door, enjoying not moving. Not vibrating from shoddy suspension. Does he knock? Or is the novelty doorbell more appropriate?

The door swings open and Nojiko shoves a rifle in his face. Seeing her, and seeing she's armed- its a relief. Behind her, Usopp screams. 

"What the fuck," Nami says. It's not really a question. Nojiko's still pointing the gun at him, but the barrel shakes. 

"Hey," Zoro says. If he was certain he'd stay upright, he might be tempted to do some jazz hands. Surprise! Possibly, the blood loss is skewing his perception.

"What the actual fuck," Nojiko says. Nami and Usopp shove their way underneath her arms, and she points the rifle down and away, staring at him. 

"Are you a vampire?" Usopp says, poking a centimetre of clean skin on Zoro's arm. He must look pale.

"We thought you were dead, you fuck," Nami says, voice hoarse, "Where the fuck were you?"

Usopp's got his phone out, taking a picture. Texting someone. There's a lot of noise, and Zoro's struggling.

"Shut up, both of you," Nojiko says, older sister energy in full force, "Get him inside." 

Usopp shoves his phone in his pocket and loops an arm around his side. Nami matches him, and Zoro appreciates it, but he's trying not to vomit again from the pressure on his ribs. 

"Shower, shower, shower," Nami chants as they drag him inside, "Do not put him on my couch."

"He stinks," Usopp says, "Are you sure he's not like an undead zombie corpse or something?" 

"Undead zombie corpses don't drive Mitsubishis," Nami says, groaning as they turn the corner, "Also, Zoro always stinks." 

It's affectionate, maybe. It's nice being talked about like he's not there. Means they don't expect him to respond. Nojiko slams the front door and moves around their wobbly three-legged race, opening the bathroom door and ripping the shower curtain back.

"Get a chair or something," Nami says, and she nods, disappearing. Usopp stands in the shower with him, leaning him against the tile. Nami's doing that thing where she frets, and rummages around wildly in her cupboards, slamming doors. Zoro hasn't seen her this upset since Arlong. 

"Zoro, you have to tell us," Usopp says urgently, "If you get the urge to like, start eating brains or whatever. As a bro."

Zoro huffs. It's more of a wheeze. 

"Don't worry," Nojiko says to Usopp, cramming one of Nami's sun-faded garden chairs in the shower space, "Your head is already empty."

Usopp leans him down on the chair. He'll probably just stand up again once they all fuck off, but it's nice to take pressure off his knees. 

"I have cloths," Nami says, shoving a bucket of body-cleaning stuff beside him, "Also that fruity body wash you like."

"Scissors," Zoro grunts. He's pretty sure he'll have to rip most of the skin off to get the fabric out of parts where it's healed, but it gets one of them out of the tiny room. 

"Shouldn't we like- take you to a hospital?" Usopp says. Nami laughs humourlessly, hands on her hips.

"Usopp," Zoro says, fumbling with his belt, "Could you- boots?"

"Oh yeah, right," Usopp says nasally, one hand holding his nose while he struggles to unlace Zoro's filthy boots. Between the petrol, piss, and blood, Zoro's not offended. He can't smell much, too focused on ignoring the pain. He gets his belt undone, dragging it out of the loops. Usopp gets one boot off and throws it out of the shower, splattering filth everywhere. 

Nami tells him off and starts complaining about needing a garbage bag, disappearing. Zoro sighs, watching Usopp unlace and dump his other boot. They were his new work boots, not even broken in.

"I have the receipt," Zoro mutters, "Maybe?" 

"What?" Usopp says, looking up at him like he's crazy. Maybe he is. Maybe its the head injury. Usopp helps him pull his work pants down and off, and doesn't throw up when he peels off Zoro's socks. 

"Thanks," Zoro says, trying to make eye contact. He needs to eat more. And sleep maybe. 

"No prob'," Usopp says, making gagging noises and shoving Zoro's clothes in the direction of his boots, "Also, how are you not dead?"

Zoro can see the whites of his eyes, staring at Zoro's half-naked body. Usopp pulls the curtain across instinctively when Nojiko comes back, scissors in hand.

"Hey! He's naked!" Usopp says, high-pitched.

"I've seen it all before," Nojiko snaps at him.

"So?" Usopp says, "Give him some privacy!" 

Zoro can hear Nojiko huff, and Usopp shuts the curtain behind himself. Zoro watches Usopp cut crookedly through his shirt and marvels at the lack of panic as Usopp nearly takes off a nipple. He's probably going to fall asleep in here. Usopp's phone starts ringing, and he lets Nojiko take over, talking excitedly into his phone. Variations of "I know right! He's not even dead!".

"I hoped," Nojiko starts, pulling the adjustable shower head down and running the water against the wall, "That you were- okay."

She's adjusting the temperature, not looking at him.

"I'm okay," Zoro says. It comes out more like mmokay. Nojiko glares at him.

"Don't make me ask for a definition," Nojiko says, "Just tell me you're not going to die if I stop looking at you for five seconds."

Zoro huffs. At this point, he's not entirely sure he can die. It's an existential void he's not in the mood to go down. His head hurts. Among other things. 

"'m fine," Zoro says, "Where's Luffy?" 

Nojiko blinks at him. 

Right. 

Well- it was a long shot. According to Clown 1's phone- it's been eight hours, at most. 

"When you- we were hoping you knew," Nojiko says slowly, "Zeff and Kaya are doing what they can." Whatever that means.

Zoro shuts his eyes. Nojiko curls the fingers of his less-fucked hand around the shower head, and leaves him in peace.

"I'm right outside," Usopp says cheerily, somewhere in the vicinity of the toilet, "Lemme know when you want to get out!"

Zoro can hear Sanji's rapid-fire articulation, tinny like he's driving as Usopp engages in a rambling conversation that confirms Zoro's suspicion that they don't know jack shit.

The water is warm. Not hot, but its still good. Painful, everywhere it touches an open wound, but the relief of rinsing stale body fluids and dirt off- it's worth it. Zoro starts with his legs and works his way up. Inefficient, but it gives him time to work up to soaking the clotted mass on the side of his head. 

"Hey Zoro?" Usopp says, and Zoro takes a long time to zone back in, "Do you have any food requests?" 

"Meat," Zoro grunts. It's hard to know if it's loud enough over the water, and then Usopp titters.

"No brains though right?" Usopp says.

Zoro doesn't respond. He holds the shower head on enough of an angle that it sprays his head. It's awkward, but his arm is tired and his grip strength questionable. Chunks of semi-dried blood and ooze fall in clots onto his shoulder, and he watches them slowly bleed down his body and rinse off his legs. It takes a while for the clotted shell to dissolve, and Zoro moves the spray as soon as it starts to sharp-hurt. 

"Zoro?" Usopp says, closer. Nervous. Maybe he said it a few times. Zoro focuses on controlling his breathing. Maybe he should have waited longer. 

"Mirror?" Zoro grunts. Usopp ums and ahs and his shadow disappears for a while. When he comes back, Nami comes too.

"Show me," Nami demands, reefing the shower curtain open. Usopp shrieks and protests, but Zoro just turns his head. Lets her look. 

Nami was the one there with him, after Arlong. Tried to fix him up in the back of her station wagon, crying over the blood. It went some way to repairing their relationship, but Zoro hadn't really forgiven her- not then. Nami told him about the apartment next to Nojiko, and they didn't speak again for nearly eight months. By then Nojiko had claimed him.

Nami's still- she's Zoro's friend. Maybe. They could have been at lot closer, if Zoro wasn't- like he is. 

Nami sucks her breath through her teeth. Hums, tilting Zoro's head to see better.

"Good thing you're already dumb as shit," Nami says. 

"It's open?" Zoro says. Nami's fingers are warm on his skin. She's barefoot, flannel pyjama pants soaking up the bloody water.

"I can see bone," Nami says, "Looks flimsy. Skin is coming back in though. Can't see any brain."

"Nothing new then," Nojiko says from the doorway.

"Whatever is happening right now is both confusing and upsetting," Usopp says, "Just putting that out there."

"He heals," Nami says quietly, "Whatever- whatever they do to him."

"Like- like a sleigh beggy?" Usopp says, "Or like Deadpool?"

"What the fuck is-?" Nami says, "Anyway- yeah, whatever. Like Deadpool."

"Cooooooooool," Usopp says, "You hear that Sanji?"

"Il est petit," Sanji says from the doorway, "Maybe more like Wolverine?"

"Not hairy enough," Nojiko says, "Got the attitude though."

"You want me to do your back?" Nami says. Zoro shrugs. Nami takes the shower head off him.

"Everybody out!" Nami says, shutting the shower curtain, "Peep show is over." 

Zoro can hear Sanji and Nojiko talking in the hallway, and Usopp follows them out.

"Wait-" Usopp says, "Does that mean this was- it was even worse?" 

"Go find him some clothes," Nami says, pulling her pants off and throwing them over the curtain rail. They fall on the bathroom floor with a wet slap, and Usopp makes a strangled noise. She's got underwear on, thankfully. Zoro leans forward and lets her rinse the mud off his back. It stings in places, but it's most his front that took the damage. Zoro's just glad they weren't interested in doing weird shit with their corpses, and his junk is intact. 

Nami gets frustrated at the soaked arms of her flannel pyjama shirt and throws it over the railing too. 

"Stop getting naked," Zoro says half-heartedly. 

"You're gayer than avocado toast," Nami says, "Also, disgusting." She makes him stand up, and scrubs most of him over with a rough washcloth. He leans against the wall with his eyes shut while she strips completely and washes herself down. 

"Wash your own ass," Nami says, and steps out of the shower. Zoro sighs against the tile. 

When he's done, Zoro ignores the pile of clothing that looks too hard, and finds the cheap bathrobe that Nami definitely stole from a motel. He limps out to the main room, throwing the towel down in case he bleeds everywhere, and collapses on the couch. 

"Wake me up in two hours," Zoro mutters at Usopp, who's cross-legged in a pile of bedding on the floor, face washed out in the glow of his phone screen. Nojiko and Sanji are in the cramped kitchen, having an argument in low voices. Nami's door is shut. It's just starting to brighten up outside, night turning to day. 

"kay," Usopp says. He looks tired.

"Hey, Zoro?" Usopp says. Zoro grunts into the cushion.

"We're going to find him," Usopp says. Zoro rolls over to face the back of the couch. 

When Usopp gently pokes him awake, Zeff is in the kitchen having a conversation with Sanji. It sounds more like an argument, but Zoro's used to the way they only seem to manage to talk in raised voices. Zoro rolls over and ties the robe shut so he doesn't flash everyone his junk. Nami and Nojiko in the tiny backyard having their own version of a conversation. 

It's 6.32am on the ugly cat-shaped clock over the armchair. Zoro feels sorry for the neighbours.

"You're alive then," Zeff says, frowning at Zoro. Sanji's rifling through the fridge, pulling out various covered containers. 

"Is Big Momma okay?" Zoro says.

"She got arrested," Zeff snorts, "But they couldn't hold her. They'd have to explain why the fuck they were there and who's van it was."

"Where's Luffy?" Zoro says. Sanji shuts the fridge pointedly. So, Zeff has no idea either. 

"Patty's outside on the scanner," Zeff says, "And that girl is a menace. We'll find him." 

Zeff's restaurant van doubles as a reminder of all the less-legal things he used to do in his younger years, police scanner included. Zoro doesn't think they'll pick up much, given there's not a real bounty out, and the cops were so dodgy. Maybe an ambulance call. He goes to the bathroom and washes his face. Pisses blood, but not much. Probably old. There's a spare toothbrush under the sink. He flosses as well, because- why not. It stings. 

That girl turns out to be Kaya, who rolls up in a shiny black sedan with trays of coffee. Sanji kicks Zeff out of the kitchen with too much glee, and Zoro sits at the island and stares into the middle distance. He's going to have to snap one of his ribs again. It's stabbing him, just this side of annoyingly crooked. Nami and Nojiko are inside Nami's bedroom, doing who knows what. Arguing, by the sound of it. 

"I am glad you are okay," Kaya says, sitting down next to him, "I wasn't sure what you normally order."

She slides an iced coffee to him. Extra shot, by the looks of it, the milk cigar brown. It's not bitter though. Maybe vanilla syrup?

"Thank you," Zoro says. Kaya nods, watching Sanji work. She's wearing a jump suit and Doc Martins, hair tied back in a no-nonsense bun. 

"I met Luffy a few years ago," Kaya says, "Did he tell you that?"

Zoro nods. He doesn't really want to hear about Luffy and Kaya cavorting around Mexico, but he's not rude enough to leave. 

"I wasn't in the best frame of mind after Kuro," Kaya says, "Luffy's a good friend to have. And Zoro?"

Zoro glances at her. She smiles at him. 

"He's strong," Kaya continues, "Very strong. You both are."

"Hey," Usopp says, poking his head in the front door, "We might have something." Zoro makes to stand, and Sanji slams his spatula on the counter with enough force to rattle the dishes in the sink.

"Absolutely not!" Sanji says, face red, "First- you eat!"

Cramming everyone into Nami's kitchen is no mean feat. Patty comes in as well, and there's so much noise Zoro has to retreat to the back verandah. Nami's got a shit view, six feet of dead grass and an intimate overview of the neighbour's much larger yard. It's quiet though, and the neighbours dog only barks at him twice before it gets bored and flops down under the tree. 

Sanji comes out and dumps more of the different meats on his half-empty plate. 

"Chicken liver, heritage bacon, and grass-fed, grass-finished steak," Sanji says aggressively, pointing at each pile.

Zoro blinks at his plate. It doesn't taste like liver, mixed in with scrambled eggs and some kind of capsicum relish. 

"Thanks," Zoro says. Sanji's got sauce smeared on his shirt. His hair is immaculate. 

Sanji rolls his eyes and stomps back inside. Zoro sips his coffee and watches the neighbours dog lick itself. The meat is good. Zoro glances inside to make sure no one's looking, and throws a chunk of steak to the dog. It's good to have allies. 

Usopp comes out with a bundle of clothes. 

"Thanks," Zoro says, shedding the robe. Usopp's eyes go wide and he throws his arms out like that'll stop anyone in the dining room seeing Zoro's bare ass.

"Why do you all just-" Usopp says, high-pitched, "Get naked all the time!?"

Zoro glances at him while he pulls the jeans up. They're a bit tight. Maybe Sanji's. Zoro just buys straight leg, because they're cheaper. More ball space. These are tight on his somewhat-fucked knees. 

"Who else gets naked?" Zoro says. He's still in pain, a throbbing headache, but he's not hungry. Clean. It's good to feel somewhat human.  

"Everyone! Nami's always stripping off, and I've seen Sanji's junk way too much!" Usopp says, turning around and crossing his arms, "And Luffy's always-"

He stops, shoulders bunching up. Zoro sniffs the shirt and pulls it over his head. Lavender dryer sheets. Definitely Sanji's. Maybe one of his workout shirts, tight on the bicep. 

Zoro supposes he didn't have many clothes for Sanji to bring- what Nojiko bought is probably still in a bag somewhere, stickers and tags on. She had the receipt. Zoro wonders if she would have returned them, or just thrown them out.  

"Oh yeah," Zoro says, considering what he's going to do about his bare feet, "What about Kaya?"

"Kaya would never!" Usopp says, taking the out, "She's a respectable lady!"

His voice is a bit wobbly. If Kaya's known Luffy for years, maybe Usopp has too. Usopp's soft- cares about people too much. 

"You don't respect Nami?" Zoro says. He gathers his plate, and Usopp trails after him, grumbling. 

"That's not what I meant!" Usopp says, "You're all exhibitionists!"

Zoro can feel his cheeks heat up, thinking about the hot tub at Kaya's. The extra blood flow does nothing good for his headache. The kitchen sink is full of barely-rinsed dishes, and the crowd has moved to the main room. Nojiko has her gun out again, and Sanji's tying up his boots. 

"Come on, chuckleheads," Nami says, throwing a pair of floral thongs at Zoro, "Queen Sanji says we're allowed to go fuck up some clowns now."

"I've seen you drive hangry," Sanji says, "I would like to survive this adventure, cherie."

"Don't you have sneakers?" Zoro says. She's wearing her hiking boots. 

Sanji looks him up and down with a wrinkled nose. Zoro doesn't give a shit about looking good right now- the thongs somewhat fit, but they're not going to be much foot protection, and they're harder to run in. 

"None that will fit Bigfoot," Nami says, hands on her hips. Nojiko snorts as she goes past with an armful of rifle shell boxes.

Zoro sighs. They argue about who goes where, and Zoro ends up crammed in the back of Zeff's delivery van with Patty and Usopp, Zeff driving. Kaya, Nami, Sanji, and Nojiko have commandeered the Pajero, complaining about Zoro's body fluids all over the drivers seat. 

"Hey man," Patty say, "Welcome to HQ." 

Zoro nods and clips his seatbelt on. His range of motion without pain is limited, but he can deal with pain. 

"Where are we going?" Zoro says. 

"We got something that might be Luffy," Patty says, and rattles off a bunch of callsign lingo. Zoro used to know this kind of stuff. 

"Domestic disturbance?" Zoro hazards.

"Started out that way," Patty says, "And then they just kept calling for backup, and there's guns." 

Zoro tries to keep his face neutral. That could be anything- there's plenty of wannabe-gangsters and farmer's kids in town. Usopp's starting to look queasy, but that might just be Zeff's driving. He should probably have sat up front.

"And get this," Patty says, eyes bright, "Suspected high-class bounty."

"Who?" Zoro says. Luffy's friend, maybe? Or someone completely irrelevant. It makes no sense- if the cops wanted one of Luffy's friends, wouldn't the posted bounty be enough? Why all the subterfuge, fake bounties, and kidnapping? 

"Known associate of Buggy," Patty says, "You ever meet a guy called Shanks?"

Chapter Text

Ah. Red-Haired Shanks. 

Well- that might explain it. Shanks has been near the top of a few different lists for years. No one can get a hold of him. There's rumours he has some kind of mind-control mutation. His exact crimes were always vague, old, and mostly by association. In his retired cynical wisdom, Zoro suspects the nature of his mutation was more interesting to the government than any actual crime. 

Zoro had wasted a few months trying to track him down, like all budding bounty hunters in their youthful stupidity. It was one of his less glamourous failures, a trip down south that also featured one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had. He'd tracked down a friend of a friend, managed to get that close- and then. Somehow ended up under a table at Palms on Oxford, half-dressed and covered in glitter, the lingering taste of peanut butter whiskey sour in his mouth. Zoro was under the impression he was overseas these days, but- maybe. Maybe Luffy's got something to do with it. 

"Right," Zoro says, because Patty's still giving him that bright-eyed look. The back of the van has rack benches along the walls, seatbelts an afterthought. 

"Hey, are you-?" Patty says, looking him up and down, gaze lingering on the side of Zoro's head, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Zoro says. If he's lucky, he'll have hair growing back by the end of the day. Patty nods slowly and shares a look with Usopp. They start chattering about the police scanner and the other dubiously-legal technology rattling in racks above their heads. They lean into the sharp corner Zeff takes, and grab for the panic bars when he slows down abruptly.

Zeff yanks the centre divider down.

"Get up here, samurai," Zeff says, "You got the best eyes."

Zoro unclips his seatbelt, adrenaline surging. Makes it easier to crawl over Usopp and the rest of the crap, shoving himself over the centre console. He manages to not get a gearshift in the balls, and breathes in harsh gasps until his vision clears. Zeff's giving him side-eye.

"Belt up," Zeff says, "And tell me what you see."

Zoro shoves the seatbelt into the clip and squints outside. 

He's not exactly Legolas, but there's easily twenty cops loitering around the warehouse, and traffic control. There's a cordon, and some smoke rising from the other side of the warehouse, but the cops look bored, standing around in their bulletproof armour.

Zoro catches a glimpse of some plain clothes cops as they pass, crisp button-ups and guns on their belts. Detectives? One on the phone, frowning.

The traffic control cops wave the batons lazily, not even looking at them as they pass through at fifteen km/hour. There's a few old people hanging around gawking, but not much of a crowd. 

"Not active," Zoro says, "Whatever happened, it's done." He can feel his bent rib bone scratching something inside, pressed against the seat belt. It's good- sharp and grounding. The disappointment is surprising. Annoying. It's not like he actually expected to find Luffy. Usopp leans into the front, waving his phone.

"Kaya's calling," Usopp says. Zeff presses some buttons, and the Bluetooth picks up the call, echoing around the car.

"Hey," Kaya says, "Andy rang- Buggy's in Fairhaven." Kaya rattles off an address, starts talking to Zeff about directions to come from. Zoro zones out, staring at cops fading from view in the side mirror. That girl is a menace. She sounds like she's running a heist. Andy's probably one of a dozen minions. Nami and Sanji keep shouting stuff in the background of the call. 

Fairhaven's on the edge of the industrial estates. There's a few new builds and old warehouses, but mostly overgrown allotments awaiting rezoning. They slow right down, following the Pajero down a narrow lane.

There's a van up ahead, parked haphazardly on the side of the road, sliding door open. Someone leans out, spots the Pajero, and starts shooting. 

Kaya slams on the brakes, swerving, and Nojiko's got the rifle pointed out the side window before Zeff can pull up. As they get closer, there's shouting coming from further down the road, and Zoro spots Buggy's jacket. 

Usopp grabs his arm, and they're all shouting, but Zoro's out of the van before it stops. He fucks his ankle on landing, stumbling, but it's not going to stop him, vision tunnelling. Nami's got her lady's pistol, shrieking as Nojiko puts holes in the van, and Sanji shouts at Zoro when he goes past, swinging the door of the Pajero open. 

Zoro loses sight of Buggy around a plastic wrapped pallet, slamming into the side as he changes direction. Inside the hanger, there's a bunch of clowns laid out, and a black guy with an afro turns to Zoro, startled, the barrel of a shotgun coming up. He's too slow though, and Zoro slams into Buggy from behind. They go down in a tangle of limbs, Zoro snarling and grabbing for Buggy's face. 

Except- it's not Buggy.

It's the beanie guy from the bar, no beanie, wearing Buggy's jacket. One sleeve of Buggy's jacket is empty, and it surprises Zoro for a split second that beanie guy uses to roll over, grabbing Zoro's arm with an inhuman grip and giving him an intense look. No makeup today- three faint scars down the side of his face, and bright red hair. No wonder he'd covered it up. It was fucking Shanks.

"Stop," Shanks says. 

Zoro stops. He- fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-?

Body lax, head flopping around, Zoro gets dumped on his back on the concrete. 

"Hey," Shanks says, "I know you. Aren't you Luffy's-?" Shanks trails off, glancing around.

Zoro stares at the ceiling, teeth bared. 

"I'll be right back," Shanks says, "Yasopp, could you keep an eye on our friend?"

"Don't worry," Yasopp says to Zoro, hip cocked and something conciliatory in his tone, "It'll fade." 

Zoro manages to make a hissing noise, fingers twitching. 

"Dad?" Usopp shouts from the hangar door. What the fuck? 

Zoro tries to look, neck muscles straining, head barely lifting. The stupid name convention must be hereditary, because Usopp's crying and embracing the afro guy, who has the same dumbass doe-eyed expression. 

Nami follows him in, pistol up, and beelines for Zoro. Sanji's got a cricket bat and stands awkwardly between Yasopp and Zoro, looking around at all the clowns. There's a car engine running, and the Pajero's brakes squeal as Kaya rams her way in through the hangar door, shunting the pallet sideways. She's smiling, savage.

"Are you okay?" Nami says, patting Zoro's chest like she's looking for an injury. Zoro glares at her. His jaw is still mostly locked up, and he wiggles his fingers.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Nami says, "Usopp!"

"He'll be fine," Yasopp says, Usopp hanging off him like a limpet, "Just got hit with the old red-haired haki."

"What is that?" Nami snaps, "What the fuck is happening? Who are you?" 

"This is my dad!" Usopp says, like that explains anything.

Nojiko is shouting out front. Kaya turns the car off and grabs a hockey stick from the backseat, nodding at Nami and heading back out. 

"Hey, is that-?" Sanji says, looking towards the back of the hangar. 

"Luffy!" Sanji shouts, and Nami glances up, hands still twisted in Zoro's shirt. 

"Sanji!" Luffy shouts. Zoro shuts his eyes. Nami pats his shoulder. 

"Luffy's fine," Nami says quietly, and stands up. The sound of bare feet slapping on concrete precedes Luffy slamming into Sanji, who yelps and spins around with him, dropping the cricket bat. 

"Everyone is here!" Luffy shouts, "You came for me?" He sounds not-especially fine, voice wobbly.

"Did you- have you found-?" Luffy says, and Zoro opens his eyes.

Luffy's got a wide band of bandages wrapped around his bare chest, hat missing and face pale under his tan. He spots Zoro and his eyes go wide. 

"Zoro?" Luffy says, and lets Sanji go, "Zoro!"

Luffy drops down, hands shaky and pats his chest, grabs his face.

"I thought-?" Luffy says, "You- are you okay?" 

"Ah, sorry, that's my bad," Shanks says, "He came on a bit strong. He'll be okay in about ten minutes."

Luffy's crying. Zoro stares at him. He's pressing on Zoro's ribs, and everything still kind of hurts, but- the reaction seems overblown.

"I thought- they said," Luffy says, big fat tears running down his face, "Zoro, I-"

"Right, well," Sanji says, "Should we see if there are any more clowns?"

Nami snorts. Shanks laughs. 

"We were just tidying up," Yasopp says, "Sorry we missed the guys out front."

"Were those cops here?" Nami says.

As if on cue, the office door slams open. Zoro can't see anything past Luffy's blubbering.

"You're not getting away this time Shanks!" shouts the younger cop. His voice is distinctive. Zoro can turn his head now. 

"Helmeppo?" Luffy says, wiping snot up his arm, "What are you doing here?" 

"Shut up Luffy!" the younger cop says, "Where is my dad?"

There's a beat of silence. Two more guys come in from the back hangar, and Shanks nods at them. 

"Sorry kid," Shanks says, "Your old man's tied up in the back of the patrol car."

"You're all under arrest!" Helmeppo cries, shrill. Zeff, Kaya, and Nojiko come inside. There's a lot of people, a lot of weapons. Zeff and Yasopp start talking like they know eachother, and Shanks tries to politely talk the younger cop down. 

Luffy wipes his own tears off Zoro's cheek with his thumb. Brushes Zoro's hair back, looks at the side of Zoro's head with wide eyes. 

"They showed me pictures," Luffy says quietly, "I thought-"

"Where's Buggy?" Nami says, frowning at Helmeppo. 

"Buggy's in a few boxes," Shanks says, "We have a few things to work out. Sorry about all this."

"'m okay," Zoro mumbles. It hurts, but he can move a bit. Luffy wipes at his own face, blinking away tears. Looks at him with an expression that makes Zoro's cheeks heat up, embarrassed. Everyone moves around them, chattering and organising. Luffy ignores them all and stares at Zoro.

"I know- you said-" Luffy starts, "But there was so much blood. And you looked- they said-" 

Zoro shifts his fingers as much as he can, brushing Luffy's bare knee. Luffy grabs his hand, holds it tight. It's so weird to see his hand, mostly lax in Luffy's grip, and have so little control. He still has blood under his fingernails.

"You?" Zoro manages. Luffy blinks and looks down at himself. He seems embarrassed. 

"Oh, this is nothing," Luffy says, "I was just really upset when- and then Shanks came along, and the cops were here too, and there were so many clowns-! Also, Zoro, do you know what pajero means in Spanish? They kept talking about it, and I only just realised they were talking about a car-"

Luffy keeps rambling. Zoro wants to kiss him. He doesn't get the chance, because Patty rolls up neatly behind the Pajero and sticks his head out of the window. 

"Time to go!" Patty says, "Neighbours called in the gunshots. It's cop o'clock!" 

Shanks squats and pats Luffy on the shoulder. At some point, he's gained a straw hat, and he plops it back on Luffy's head with a smile. 

"Would you like a hand?" Shanks says, tilting his head at Zoro. 

"Just one!" Luffy says, smiling. Shanks laughs.

"Perfect," Shanks says, and tilts his head at Zoro, "You can get up now." 

Zoro glares, and tries not to embarrass himself by stumbling when he realises that yes, he can get up now. Luffy loops an arm around his waist, pulls him close like it's nothing, sliding his fingers between Zoro's fingers on his less fucked hand. 

"Are you coming back with us, Shanks?" Luffy says. He sounds hopeful. Zoro looks away, so his probably-murderous expression doesn't influence the interaction. Shanks is clearly important to Luffy. 

"Sorry kiddo," Shanks says, "We've gotta keep ahead of this. I have a dinner date with an old friend." 

"Oh," Luffy says, "Well, maybe I'll see you again soon?" 

"Well, if you do stick around here, Luf," Shanks says slowly, "I'll know where to find you."

"Really?" Luffy says. He's squeezing too hard. Zoro doesn't comment. He watches Sanji and Nojiko argue about what to do with Helmeppo, who's been handcuffed to a support beam and is arguing for his own series of events, where they let him go and come down to the station. They're all ignoring him. 

"It's not a bad place," Shanks says, "You've found some good people."

"Yes! It's the best!" Luffy says, "Grandpa is annoying, but he is not drinking so much now and he said he might even come to see my next match. I think he knows all the bars in town. And Kaya is so amazing! She has a really fancy house and is teaching me to swim-"

Zoro glances at Shanks, to find him looking at Zoro, clearly zoned out of Luffy waxing poetic about the varied and bizarre merits of Kaya, Usopp, Nami and Sanji. 

Zoro realises he's still holding hands with Luffy. He tilts his head at Shanks, squeezing tighter. Say something about it. Zoro didn't get the fight he really wanted, after all. Shanks smiles warmly at him, and then at Luffy, putting a hand on Luffy's arm to stem the tide of words. 

"Take care of your friends Luffy," Shanks says, "Especially this one."

"Of course!" Luffy says, and he's grinding Zoro's ribs. Zoro winces and jabs him in the underarm. 

"Oh, sorry," Luffy says, loosening his grip slightly. Shanks laughs, and then he's walking away, grabbing Helmeppo off a red-faced Sanji, who looks relieved to see him go.

"That is not a good example!" Luffy says, "I will be more careful Zoro!" 

Zoro shrugs. He doesn't really want Luffy to be careful with him. Luffy's got him by both arms, warm brown eyes wide and earnest as he leans into Zoro's space. 

"Let's go," Zoro says, before Luffy can start rambling or do anything especially embarrassing, "I'm not riding in the clown car."

Luffy laughs, and they clamber into the back of Zeff's van. Patty's still in the drivers seat, fiddling with the scanner, and they get a minute alone in the semi-darkness under the blinking lights. Zoro lets Luffy stand in front of him and clip Zoro's seatbelt belt in, because he's definitely going to need to snap that rib back into place. Crash-tackling Shanks did his body no favours. He's healed, mostly. Just wrong in some parts. 

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says, warm between Zoro's thighs, "Can I kiss you?"

Zoro tilts his chin up, grabbing Luffy's naked shoulder. Luffy kisses him sweetly, all chapped lips and gentle hand on the side of his face. Zoro opens his mouth, digging his fingers into Luffy's skin. 

Usopp joins them a few minutes later, crying uncontrollably. Luffy pulls back and licks his lips, sitting down next to Zoro like nothing happened.

"You okay Usopp?" Luffy says, while Zoro's catching his breath.

"It was so good to see him!" Usopp says, and weirdly, he's smiling, "My dad's so cool!" 

"He's a wanted criminal," Zoro says.

"I know right?" Usopp says dreamily, wiping the tears from his eyes. Luffy smiles, patting Usopp on the knee.

"Buckle up lads!" Zeff shouts into the back, slamming the van door, "We've got about three minutes to clear this shithole!"

Zeff drops them off at Kaya's.

"The Pajero?" Zoro says, and Patty grins at him.

"We used to flip cars all the time," Patty says, "Do you want it? Whatever colour you like."

"Fuck no," Zoro says, "Just make sure you get my blood out."

Patty raises his eyebrows. Zeff snorts. 

Nami and Nojiko are in the kitchen, blending ice into what looks like a very strong margarita. Sanji's staring into the fridge, muttering about rich people and their empty fridges. It's a strange version of the morning at Nami's, and Zoro stares, feeling a wave of nausea at the unreality. 

Maybe he's dreaming. Luffy sits at the island counter and pats the chair next to him. 

Zoro sits. 

Luffy gets two cups off the mug tree and pours them both filtered water from the bubbler in the centre of the island. It's icy cold and makes his teeth hurt. 

"Sanji, will you cook for us?" Luffy says, "The clowns mostly fed me Shapes."

Sanji looks offended, rummaging underneath the counter and pulling out a skillet. 

"Nothing else?" Sanji says.

"I was not gone so long," Luffy says, "But they weren't even the good flavours. They ate the Chicken Crimpy in front of me!"

"True torture," Sanji says. They all ignore the actual, literal torture that probably happened, because Luffy doesn't mention it, and they already saw Zoro's aftermath.

"Clearly, cheese and bacon is the superior flavour," Nami says, which starts a heated debate that only shifts when Kaya comes out of the shower, pouring herself a margarita and putting Cayenne pepper in the top. Nojiko takes Kaya's side. Usopp, also damp from the shower, agrees with Nami for once, that it's an abomination. Kaya sips her drink and makes an exaggerated mmmmm sound.  

Zoro tunes out and eats mechanically when Sanji shoves a plate in front of him. Some kind of fish, and some greens buttered and salted. It's good, and he's hungry, but he keeps turning Luffy's words over in his head. They showed me pictures- of Zoro? 

Zoro doesn't really care that they took pictures, exactly. There's just something about it- the idea that someone- who? Clown 1? Took pictures of what they thought was his corpse, and showed Luffy. It's fucked up. And then Zoro has to consider that thought abstractly, because most of the things in his life have been fucked up, and that's pretty low-scoring, really. Is it- that it's Luffy? That it upset Luffy?

Luffy puts his hand on Zoro's thigh, hidden under the bench. Zoro comes back to himself and stops pushing the beans around his plate, shovelling them into his mouth before Sanji can comment.

"I am pretty tired," Luffy announces, in that way he has. It shuts everyone up, and they all look at him like he's said something profound. Zoro can't focus on anything except Luffy's hand on his leg.

"Can I stay here and take a nap?" Luffy says to Kaya. Kaya smiles.

"Of course," Kaya says, "The guest rooms are yours for as long as you need. Both of you." Zoro blinks at her.

"Thank you Kaya!" Luffy says. He stands up, and is halfway out of the room before he turns back, beaming at Zoro.

"Are you coming, Zoro?" Luffy says. Like it's a normal thing. Right.

Zoro shoves his plate back and stands rigidly, ignoring the way Nami's eyebrows hit her hairline and she slurps her margarita like it's the only thing keeping her from commenting. Nojiko's squinting at him. Sanji has that please-punch-me smirk, leaning on the counter with a fist under his chin. Usopp's too busy making moony eyes at Kaya to even register the interaction, which is why he's Zoro's favourite. 

"Thanks for letting us stay," Zoro mutters at Kaya, and hobbles out of the room before he embarrasses himself further. 

It's worth it. Luffy takes his hand and smiles.

Chapter Text

Luffy has a really long shower, singing off-key in Spanish. Zoro stares at the bedspread, and is somewhat relieved when they do, actually, just nap. He wakes up twisted in the sheets, cold on one side and sweating where his skin sticks to Luffy, sprawled out half-naked beside him. Luffy's shirt covers his chest.

Nami's in the shade beside the pool, reading a novel. Nojiko's possibly asleep on the floating pool lounge, towel over her face. The jug of margarita looks low, and Nami flips the cover quickly when Zoro opens the gate. Two women on the glossy pink cover.

"Are you reading porn?" Zoro says.

"From what Usopp told me," Nami says, cheeks pink, "This pool has seen far greater crimes." 

Zoro shrugs, but he can feel his face heat up. He sits on the side of the pool, rolling his jeans up so he can put his feet in the water. It's late afternoon, sun dipping behind the hill. The pool tile is warm under Zoro's ass, the water cold. 

"Where is everyone?" Zoro says.

"Sanji's gone home," Nami says, "Usopp and Kaya went for a "nap" too." She finger-quotes, pouring herself another drink.

Zoro rolls his eyes.

"So they're official?" Zoro says.

"Are you?" Nami returns. Zoro leans back on his elbows, pulling his shirt up to look at his ribs. The bruising is weird but fading, and he runs his fingers along the bones. Assessing.

"What are you-?" Nami says, and shouts when Zoro digs his fingers in hard, catching the edge of the floating rib and snapping it back. Nojiko jerks awake and falls off the lounger, shrieking and splashing. Zoro shifts the bone around, trying to keep it in place, laying out on the tile with a sigh. It'd be nice to not have to open himself up again just to fix things. 

"The fuck is wrong with you!" Nami shouts, throwing her book at Zoro's head.

"Ow," Zoro says. 

"The fuck is wrong with you!" Nojiko shouts at Nami, bobbing in the water and splashing them both, "I just dyed this, you bitch!"

Nami points at Zoro, exaggerating Zoro's crimes, and Nojiko keeps shrieking about her hair, kicking off the bottom and throwing another wave of water over them both, blue hair dye running down her face like blood. 

Luffy comes out with a punnet of blueberries, and joins Zoro on his soggy tile. He smiles at Nami and Nojiko like it's a normal interaction. Maybe it is. Zoro doesn't often hang out with them both at the same time. 

"Hey Zoro," Luffy says, "Blueberry?" 

Zoro opens his mouth to say I'm good, still holding his rib, and Luffy puts one in his mouth. Well, that's okay too. Luffy feeds him every now and then, laying out beside him. Nojiko gets out of the pool and disappears into the pool house, muttering to herself. Nami sculls her drink, and puts the straw in the jug.

"I hate both of you," Nami says, "Stop being cute. Zoro, what the fuck."

"Nami," Zoro says, staring at clouds blushing pink and orange overhead as the sun sets, "Could you tell me what happened?"  

Nami usually explains things. Luffy just told Zoro weird facts about clowns, Shank's adventures in Latin America, and stared at Zoro like he couldn't believe he was real. Zoro's not sure he wants to know, really, but he can't shake the feeling it's not over. Waiting for something to happen. He's always been alone in these kinds of fights. 

"If you weren't too busy making out with Luffy," Nami says, looking over the rim of her jug judgmentally, "You could have come downstairs when the lawyers were here."

Zoro shrugs. Luffy laughs. 

Nami sighs, and starts listing events on her fingers like it's a checklist, speaking rapidly. 

"Buggy had a thing with Shanks," Nami says, "Luffy says they used to be friends. I suspect boyfriends. It was bitchy like that."

Luffy makes a thoughtful noise, mouth full of blueberries.

"Luffy was bait, like we thought," Nami says, "That posh bounty hunter apparently realised it was about Shanks and said nah fuck that. Still, got Shank's attention." 

Zoro very much doubts Mihawk said that, but Mihawk had history with half of the top ten, and a mercurial temper. He only does what he wants to do. Zoro nods. 

"Helmeppo's dad hates Shanks," Nami continues, "Truly and deeply. Some crap about work. And there's us, in the middle, getting dragged into shit like usual. You get it?"

"No," Zoro says, "Why not just track Shanks? Or wait for the bounty to come in, legally?" 

Surely, one day soon, someone would catch Shanks. Then again. Zoro tries not to think about the way Shanks had dropped him, easy. It would take Mihawk or more to bring him in. 

"I think- Shanks embarrassed him," Luffy says slowly, stretched out beside Zoro like a really tan cat, "Helmeppo said his dad was a war hero. And then Shanks sent in some pictures of the dead terrorist guy having lunch in Ibiza. Grandpa says he got demoted."

Grandpa. Garp has already involved himself. Zoro shuts his eyes. Maybe he should try the other AA group again.

"Well, he's probably getting fired now," Nami says, "You should watch out for him, Luffy."

Luffy and Nami argue about the cops for a while. When Zoro opens his eyes, Luffy's sweaty, shiny all along the bridge of his nose and up his forearms as he waves his arms around. Zoro tilts his head and breathes in deep, experimental. 

Later, Zoro goes back to Sanji's. 

The camp bed is rolled up, and the question of Zoro's long-term prospects remains. Nojiko offered to share if she gets one of the rentals she's applied for, but- Zoro knows they'll murder each other within a month. His wallet and phone are still missing, presumably somewhere in the clown's possession, and Kaya says if they were taken in, they'll take a few months to come back from evidence. He should probably ring Koushirou.

Zoro sits on the floor, sorting through his scant pile of stuff. Maybe he should go back to Kaya's. Luffy's back at his apartment. Zoro didn't ask when he left, and Luffy didn't offer, busy pulling his clothes out of the dryer and rambling with Usopp about TikTok recipes and how good some brand of Japanese mayonnaise was.

Sanji comes out of his bedroom with an annoyed expression.

"Your amante is messaging me," Sanji says, "This counts as breaking rule number one."

Sanji throws his phone in Zoro's lap. Luffy's got Sanji on messenger.

Luffy's Facebook profile photo is a grainy zoomed-in picture of his face, just nose and eyes in a fisheye lens that looks like it was taken ten years ago. There's a bunch of other messages, pictures of the backs of food packaging, but the most recent ones are from two minutes ago. 

[monsieur monkey] @sanwich 
[monsieur monkey] sry 2nnoy u bt rly imprtnt
[monsieur monkey] cld u ask zoro 2cum ovr 2nite????
[monsieur monkey] 2my apprtmnt
[monsieur monkey] pls!!

It's interspersed with a bunch of praying hands emojis and blue love hearts.

Zoro squints at the screen, reassembling the letters. 

"I'm busy," Zoro says. Sanji rolls his eyes, hand out for his phone.

"You're not," Sanji says, tapping out a response, "Please go be an adult for once. Crush his boyish dreams of a white wedding, or whatever- I don't care."

Zoro snorts, picking a loose thread on his jeans. Sanji's jeans, technically. 

"I told him nine o'clock," Sanji says, walking back into his bedroom, "Be gone by eight-fifteen or I won't feed you again." He snaps his bedroom door shut.

Zoro leans his head back against the loveseat and sighs. He spends some time in Sanji's shower, assessing what remains of his injuries. Also, filling his mouth with water repeatedly and staring at the tile. 

Zoro feels- agitated. On edge. He can't shake the feeling that he's missing something. All day, he kept catching himself pressing his fingers against his chest, against the empty space where he keeps expecting Kuina's knife to be. He's got patchy hair covering the bald spot on his skull, and nothing to show for the time he spent on the side of that road except a lingering sense of doom.

Friday night seems like a lifetime ago. And now- his circles have overlapped so much there's no Venn diagram anymore. Luffy's not easy to ignore, to slot into a well that happened category of fuck-buddy, or a this is why you're perpetually single category of crush. 

Zoro presses his forehead against the tile, watching the water struggle to drain around Sanji's hair. He's not sure where Nami and Nojiko stand, but he's pretty sure Sanji and Usopp already like Luffy more than Zoro. If he thinks about Luffy, all dark eyes and big hands- he's pretty sure he also likes Luffy more than he likes Zoro. Fuck.

Zoro resolves to visit Luffy. He probably wants to show Zoro his dead beetle collection or something bizarre and completely unrelated to whatever the fuck is going on with Zoro's heart rate when he thinks about Luffy touching his face. Maybe he needs help glitter gluing another wrestling outfit. 

"Going out," Zoro says loudly through Sanji's door. The music drops volume for a second.

"Thank god!" Sanji shouts back, and whatever else he says is muffled through the door.

It's drizzling and humid when Zoro steps off the bus, pockets rattling with coins for lack of a wallet. The road gleams, shiny and black like an oil slick, traffic lights spilling out bright colours up the road.

Zoro doesn't take much notice of the NO VACANCY glowing out the front of Luffy's building, until he nearly smacks into the revolving door that does not revolve. 

Zoro steps over to the side access door, careful on the slippery tile. The lights in the foyer are off. There's at least thirty rooms in this place, and it's eight-thirty on a Sunday. His faint nausea gives way to sharp clarity, adrenaline picking up. 

Zoro tries the door, knocking when he sees a uniform shift inside. It's dark, but there's people in there. Zoro steps out of his thongs, wet plastic squeaking on the tile. He spares a glance for the frangipani pattern and considers the literal shoe drop.

A pale face appears at the door. Luffy's pink-haired doorman- Colby? Kody? 

If the revolving door and lights weren't weird enough- the kid's uniform is dishevelled, sweaty under the arms, and he starts to shake slightly when he sees it's Zoro. He unlocks and opens the door slightly, and Zoro eases his bare foot into the gap. The kid lets him, which is telling.

"Hey," Zoro says slowly, clearly, "I'm here to see someone."

"Luffy's not here," the kid says loudly, gaze sliding slightly sideways, unfocused, "You'll- you'll have to come back later."

Zoro nods.

The kid's clearly lying. Also, no one could fake the particular kind of nonsensical vowel-removal of Luffy's messaging. Behind the kid, there's only one dim lamp on at the 24hr reception desk, and enough furniture and large plants to hide any number of people. 

"Right," Zoro says, "Can I wait in the foyer?"

The kid's gaze slides back to Zoro, and he looks Zoro up and down. Between the bare feet, abandoned thongs and the badly-fitted gym tee, Zoro's probably not the most impressive sight. The kid's expression goes pinched, but he nods minutely at Zoro. 

"I think you should wait outside," the kid says loudly, while he opens the door just enough for Zoro to have room to push inside, shoving the kid sideways in a sharp movement. The kid yelps and stumbles, falling to his knees, and Zoro catches the knife blade in the meat of his palm as a man shouts and lunges from the shadows. 

It's Clown 3, teeth bared. The bandage around his head is dirty, and his aim is off. He looks drunk, or high. Zoro grins, curling his bloody fingers around the familiar blade. It feels good. Like coming home. 

"Get help," Zoro snaps at the kid. Clown 3 shrieks, ripping the blade out of Zoro's hand and bringing the muzzle of a pistol up, too slow. He should have started with the gun- it might have slowed Zoro down. 

Zoro kicks for his kneecap, slapping the barrel to the side so the shot goes wide, shattering the glass in the revolving door with a deafening bang. Clown 3 tips forward and rams into Zoro, and they go down in a tangle of limbs. Clown 3 loses grip on the gun, slashing at Zoro with the knife. 

"Die! Freak! Die!" Clown 3 shrieks, and for all his frothing vitriol and missing eye, he doesn't seem to really get it. 

Zoro is a freak. Clown 3's just a man.

The kid's out of range, running for the reception desk, so Zoro lets himself go a little. One-on-one, it's no match.

By the time someone screams and the elevator dings, Zoro's got a blood-slicked hand holding Clown's 3's hand in place around the handle of the knife tucked in deep against the bone of Zoro's left shin, and Clown 3's throat in a crushing headlock. The man gurgles and flops around, slapping at Zoro's face and body, going limp.

"Luffy!" the kid shouts, and that's all the warning Zoro gets before Luffy rushes into the foyer, slipping on the bloodied tile with a yelp.

"Gah! Koby!" Luffy says, "What is-?" The foyer lights come on, and Luffy blinks rapidly, reaching for the pillar beside Zoro, yanking himself off the floor and across the room. 

"Zoro!" Luffy shouts, echoing in the tiled space. 

"Hey," Zoro says. 

"Luffy- should I-?" Koby calls across the room, phone receiver in hand. There's a woman behind the desk- the reception lady, mascara streaked down her cheeks. Maybe she was the one who screamed.

"Call the police!" the woman snaps, rummaging under the desk and pulling out a little first-aid kit. 

"Call Grandpa!" Luffy calls back, hands hovering at Zoro's side like he's not sure what to touch. The kid nods and dials someone. Fifty-fifty on who's advice he took. Zoro lets Clown 3 drop, checking his pulse. Still alive.

Zoro slides Kuina's knife out of his leg, slow. Clown 3 nicked a larger vessel, so blood rushes out all over Zoro's too-tight jeans. Hopefully, Sanji wasn't particularly attached to this pair. 

Zoro feels the cold-stomach drop of blood pressure even as Luffy makes a startled sound and loops rubbery hands around the wound, tourniquet-tight. Zoro's got slices all over him, a bad one up the side of his chest, and he grabs for one of the overstuffed chairs, pulling it towards him so he's got something to lean back against. Presses against the worst of the cut on his chest.

"I have bandages!" the reception lady says, holding the first aid kit like a shield as she runs over. She's still crying, but looks angry about it, eyes wide and darting between Zoro and the clown. 

"Thank you Margaret," Luffy says politely, stretching out to take the first aid kit, "I was thinking maybe while Koby calls Grandpa, you could also call an ambulance?"

"Yes, yes- I-" Margaret says, "My mobile is- it's in my purse- I don't- Mr Monkey doesn't like us to have them on the floor, you know, but I always think- what if something happens? And I- I'll just-" She hurries away, mumbling to herself. 

"So," Zoro says, getting comfortable, "Your family name is Monkey."

"Oh- yeah," Luffy says, bringing his legs around to sit cross-legged, first aid kit in his lap, "My full name is Monkey D. Luffy! I know, I know- it is backwards, in English, but my family always said it that way, so I-"

"I'm Roronoa Zoro," Zoro says, eyes half-closed, "Some things sound better backwards."

"Roronoa Zoro," Luffy repeats quietly, accent wrapping around the name, "Would you like some bandages? There's also band aids. They have the Wiggles on them?"

"Only 'f there's Jeff," Zoro slurs. Luffy huffs, creeping closer.

"You don't look so good, Zoro," Luffy says, "I haven't- how fast do you heal?"

"Fast enough," Zoro says, "'S just blood loss."

Usually, there's enough adrenaline to keep him going. With Luffy cross-legged and peering down at him, pressed up tight around his leg- he's probably fine. He'll need to rally for the ambulance so they don't bother looking him over, but he's got a few minutes.

Clown 3's phone starts ringing, lighting up in his garish jacket-pocket. Not even on silent? Amateurs. 

Uptown, downtown, turn the beat around town-

"I hate that song," Luffy muses. Koby's shoes crunch on the glass as he inches over.

"Do you think we should-?" Koby starts, gesturing at the phone, "Mr Monkey's just down the road." 

Before Luffy or Zoro can respond, there's more crunching glass outside, a tall man peering in through the missing panel of the revolving door.

"Hi- um- is this, uh-" the man says, glancing between his phone and the scene in front of him, "I was looking to check in?"

Koby snaps to attention, brushing his messy hair back under his cap, giving Luffy a glare when he laughs.

"Uh, I can come back-?" the man starts. Koby hops over Zoro's bloodied legs and gestures at the other side of the revolving door.

"No, no- this way sir, I can check you in," Koby says, "Apologies on the mess- there was a bit of an accident." 

Koby's walking the man to the elevator when Garp pulls up, bright red corvette mounting the curb. 

"What, pray tell, has been going on in my establishment?" Garp says, the volume of his voice at odds with the sharp way he assesses the room. He's in a white suit, gravy-smeared cloth napkin tucked into the collar. Dinner?

"What did I tell you, Luffy?" Garp says, chiding, even as he steps over them and rifles through Clown 3's clothing like a seasoned pickpocket, "No visitors until this is all sorted out!"

"I can move out if you want," Luffy says. Zoro blinks at him. It's the first time he's heard Luffy sound- petulant? 

"That's not what I said," Garp says, finding Clown 3's phone and skimming the contents.

"A hostel is no place for my grandson!" Garp says, and Zoro mouths the words alongside him. It's Garp's third-most repeated AA refrain. It never made sense when Zoro thought Garp was the strange one. Luffy blinks at Zoro, breaking out in a blinding smile. 

Uptown, downtown, turn the beat around town-

Garp glances up, making eye contact with them both for a beat. They all look down at the phone, quiet, and Garp answers, clicking speaker. No one speaks, the hissing staticky sound of driving coming through.

"Cabaji?" the older cop hisses, tinny though the speaker, "Cabaji!"

Garp flops the end of his napkin over the screen, twitching it over the microphones. Fabric noises. Zoro glances between Luffy and Garp's matching intense expressions. 

"Can you hear me?" the older cop says, clicking through to speaker, "Have you found the kid yet?"

Garp's expression eases, something dark about the way he smiles. 

"Sudden retirement not treating you well, Morgan?" Garp says, accent rolling and smooth, "Not a graceful way to go, a cop in jail cell."

There's silence on the end of the phone line, and the beep of a disconnected call.

"Well," Garp says, "It's a good thing I got my meal doggy-bagged. Koby!"

Across the room, Koby yelps yes sir! Garp starts directing Koby and Margaret like a small army, and recruits the shell-shocked couple who come out of one of the ground-floor apartments. 

Zoro grabs the chair seat, pulling himself up. Outside, an ambulance is parking less-haphazardly next to Garp, red and blue lights flashing.

"M'fine," Zoro says, shaking his leg. Luffy frowns at him, but unwinds his rubbery tourniquet, peering at the wound. It's hidden by the fabric of Zoro's jeans, scabbed enough to ooze rather than gush. When Luffy's arm returns to a normal shape, he's got blood smeared up the inside of his arm, shiny and wet.

"Should we leave it for your Grandpa?" Zoro mutters, sliding his knife into his pocket carefully and limping towards the elevator. Luffy makes a sound, but hurries after him.

"Don't you want to-?" Luffy says.

"No," Zoro says, "Freak like you, remember?"

"Oh," Luffy says, pressing the close-door button. Its a quiet ride up. Zoro glances at Luffy. He's biting his lip, eyebrows drawn down like he's thinking. 

Luffy's floor is just as wrecked as the last time he was up here, all dangling wires, old wallpaper and crumbly plaster. It's only been what- a week? Maybe more? Luffy's door is wide open, music playing in the lounge room. The Zanzibar gem has not made a miraculous recovery, and has gained a daddy-longlegs. 

Zoro leans on the back of the couch, watching Luffy wander around and pick random things up, depositing them in equally-random but different locations. Downstairs, the ambulance siren wails, getting louder and then quieter as it heads down the road.

"Maybe- we can order food?" Luffy says once he's done a loop of the lounge room. Zoro shrugs. 

"Why did you want me to come over?" Zoro says.

Whatever it is, hopefully it involves eventually crashing in the spare room. He'd rather not try to catch a bus at this hour, like this. Nami's thongs probably have glass in them, and actual, not-completely-dodgy cops are bound to arrive soon and start asking questions. His bare feet sink into the shag. Good thing its orange and not white.

"I wanted to see you again," Luffy says, "Just me and Zoro. You left really early on Saturday morning." He's blunt. Zoro knows that- it's just. Well. Fuck. 

"Right," Zoro says. 

"I know it did not go- exactly right," Luffy says, and he's staring Zoro down even as his cheeks get redder and redder, "But I thought we had a good time together."

Zoro's slowly bleeding down the back of Luffy's couch and wondering if he should have taken his chances with the ambulance officers. 

"I don't think I can get it up right now," Zoro says. Fluid loss sucks. He's not- it's not a no. Luffy blinks, and laughs. 

"I was not thinking about sex," Luffy says, and somehow, that's worse, "I just- it is hard to have a conversation, you know? With so many people all around." 

"Right," Zoro says, feeling like a broken record. Luffy comes closer, knees on the couch cushions, fingers curling in the fabric next to Zoro. Luffy's quiet for a beat, like maybe he's waiting, and then he licks his lips and smiles. 

"I have some clothes that should fit Zoro?" Luffy says, leaning back and looking him over, "Maybe you want to have a shower?"

"Sure," Zoro says, feeling himself unclench, just slightly. Luffy pats his hand.

Chapter Text

When Zoro comes out of the shower, Luffy's shoving his feet into his shoes.

"Our food is here," Luffy says, "Make yourself at home!" He waves his arms expansively at the lounge room, and disappears out the entry-way, leaving the front door wide open. Zoro doesn't sigh, and collapses on the floor in front of the lime green couch. Luffy gave him a worn-thin pair of harem pants and a too-big shirt, but it's not like he's not used to ill-fitting clothes at this point. 

The shag is as comfortable as most of the beds he's slept in. Luffy- or more likely, Garp's staff- clearly vacuum often enough, because he doesn't drown in a cloud of dust. Luffy's turned the music down slightly, and Zoro zones out for a while.

- time I think I've had enough, and start heading for the door-

"Grandpa said not to skip town," Luffy says, putting the bags down next to Zoro and flicking his shoes off against the wall. 

"Me or you?" Zoro says, watching him from upside down. Luffy laughs. Its quiet, just a little huff and the curve of a smile. 

"I think I will stay here for as long as I can," Luffy says, untying the plastic bags of food, "I like it here."

Luffy snaps Zoro's chopsticks for him and doesn't seem to expect him to comment. Zoro drags himself upright so he can get some of the green curry before Luffy demolishes it. Thai again- and Luffy got extra satay sticks, shoving them at Zoro around a mouthful of pad thai. 

It's good. A bit déjà vu. Zoro drinks his can of Sunkist in four long swallows and sips the glass of water Luffy brings him from the kitchen, desperately thirsty but not wanting to vomit. Luffy flops down beside him, leaning against the couch and shoving spring rolls in his mouth.

"Hey Zoro?" Luffy says, once enough time has passed that Zoro starts thinking about how he should probably suck Luffy's dick or something. Nami's rubbing off on him, maybe, but- it feels like a quid pro quo. A natural progression of their evening. Also, a great way to avoid whatever pensive thoughts drag Luffy's eyebrows down into a line. 

"Yeah," Zoro says, sucking satay sauce off his fingers. The wound on his leg is still an angry red, throbbing and sore, but most of his slices have downgraded to more annoying than painful. If he keeps drinking water and doesn't manage to get into another knife-based altercation, he's probably got four hours of injury remaining before he can pretend it didn't happen. 

"Can we go wrestling?" Luffy says, "I usually go to the boxing place on Northside because they have a big ring, but they don't really like it when I wear my outfits. The owner says it scares away new customers, but I don't think that's true, because all the regulars really like me and come along to my matches."

Whatever Luffy was going to say- this is not what Zoro expected. The flood of information creates bizarre visions of Luffy, gold tassells and shark bag and rainbow crocs, in the pit of a dinghy boxing ring, Eye of the Tiger playing in the background. 

"Mr Zeff says I can practice whenever I like as long as someone is there," Luffy continues, "And you are someone! I have a new outfit I would really like to show you, but I also think it's important to keep practicing, because I need to work out some better moves if I face someone like Binky again."

"At the bar?" Zoro says, trying to gather together the threads of the conversation.

"Can we go?" Luffy says, hand on Zoro's knee, eyes wide and bright. Fuck. 

"Sure," Zoro hears himself say. Zoro doesn't have a key. Still- that's never stopped him. It's a stupid idea- it has to be nearly midnight. Luffy leaps up like a jack-in-the-box and drags Zoro up with him, wrapping his arms around Zoro in a fierce hug. It makes his injuries throb, and his face heat up. 

"It will be so fun!" Luffy cries into Zoro's shoulder, and then freezes, "Unless- Zoro- you are hurt!" 

Luffy unravels and holds him at arms length, palms wrapped around Zoro's biceps. He's just barely shorter than Zoro, curls bouncing and cheeks flushed. His eyes dart from Zoro's bare feet up his legs, lingering on his leg, and he stares at Zoro's neck where Luffy's oversized shirt is loose on his collarbones. 

"I'm sorry!" Luffy says, "You probably just want to sleep right? Or maybe eat some more food? I'm sorry I ate all the springrolls!"

Zoro could, probably, do with some sleep. Luffy's energy has his adrenaline up though, and he can't see Luffy crashing anytime soon, hopped up on full sugar soft-drink and the prospect of rolling around with Zoro on a sweaty canvas. 

Huh. That's- that does something for him. Zoro licks his lips. Maybe Zoro will suck his dick anyway. Depends how good the outfit is. 

"Do you have shoes I can borrow?" Zoro says, and Luffy blinks at him.

"Yes!" Luffy says, too loud, smiling too wide, "Zoro! I have lots of shoes!"

Zoro ends up with a pair of Spendless Shoes fake converse that are a size too small, but it was that or Kmart crocs. Nojiko might claim that Zoro has low standards, but- he still has standards.

"I know right!" Luffy says, wiggling his toes so the jibbitz move on his rainbow crocs, "The brand name ones are just so much better!"

"Right," Zoro says, stealing one of Luffy's zip-up hoodies. 

Luffy's wardrobe is a train wreck, but that's not unexpected. He's squirrely about the "wrestling side", but gives Zoro free reign to pick stuff out of the "normal" clothes. Sanji's jeans are a lost cause. He finds some haphazardly folded bootcut jeans that Zoro doubts Luffy has ever worn, but gives up when they're a size thirty-two, because his ass is bigger than that and his leg hurts.

Mismatched gym clothes it is. 

While he's rummaging, Luffy rambles at him from the kitchen sink where he's washing up their few dishes. Zoro uh huhs every time there's a break. Something about a YouTube channel Luffy watches about a Scottish cow-hoof trimmer. 

Zoro claims a drawstring bag with a faded Herbalife logo crammed in the corner of the wardrobe, and glances over at the door. Luffy's humming and washing the sink down, making more mess that he then has to clean up. 

Luffy's sex paraphernalia stash is not exactly hard to find. Top drawer on the only bedside table. It looks like the bedside table that Luffy constructed last time, the Side A sticker peeling off the side.

Inside, there's the open box of condoms from the other night, big bottle of lube, three buttplugs of increasing size, some fuzzy pink handcuffs- the cheap kind that are mostly just decoration. Little packets of lube and and single condoms in bright colours, like they give away for free.

Two sheets of paper with SOUTHSIDE SEXUAL HEALTH CLINIC in bold letters. 

Ah. Luffy is, as of last week, negative for the standard battery of venereal diseases. The second page is negative results for less common ones, and HIV. Zoro doesn't even recognise some of the names. He's pretty sure it wouldn't matter, really, but- it's thorough. Thoughtful. He leaves the condoms in the draw. 

Zoro is still on the fence about whether Luffy dressing up for him is intentional seduction, but he's adult enough to admit it makes his dick hard. He throws the lube in the bag, pausing when he spots bright green under all the loose condoms. The rope still has Nojiko's business-branded ribbon on it.

Well. Fuck. That party was- that was so long ago. Zoro shuts the drawer before Luffy can come in and find him snooping. He's more likely to want to tell Zoro all about it than get mad, and that's worse. No wonder the girls were convinced him and Luffy were- what? 

Zoro digs around under the sink in the bathroom and finds a few clean-looking hand towels, wrapping Kuina's knife in one, and when he comes out into the main room, Luffy's zipping his gym bag up and smiling at Zoro. He glances at Zoro's bag, but doesn't comment.

Downstairs, most of the broken glass is swept to the side, cleaning barriers up, and there's soft jazz playing. Zoro's blood's been mopped up. It looks like a minor accident. Koby's still on shift, and Garp's voice echoes from behind a frosted glass door off the lobby. Some kind of meeting room.

"Oh- you're okay?" Koby blurts out when he sees Zoro behind Luffy, "I thought maybe-"

"Wasn't as bad as it looked," Zoro mutters. Luffy claps Koby on the shoulder, beaming at him. The kid looks between them with wide eyes.

"This is Zoro," Luffy says, "He is welcome anytime. Grandpa knows him too." 

Koby nods, but the look he gives Zoro is filled with suspicion. Zoro can't blame him. The kid's probably the smartest person in this building, barring Margaret. Zoro is suspicious as fuck. 

Luffy's called them an UberX, and Zoro enjoys the blasting air-conditioning in the shiny Audi. It's not really raining anymore, just spitting, fat drops that just feel like sweat in the soupy humidity. The driver gives them a dubious goodnight when he leaves them outside the clearly closed bar. 

"Come on," Zoro says, heading down the alley way.

Luffy could be a career criminal, no question. It's easy to break in, one rubbery arm looped around tiny window cracked open above the door, down the other side to slide the deadbolt. The restaurant kitchen is eerily in the gloom, smoke alarm light reflecting red off the stainless steel. Luffy holds his bag strap tight, and stands on second step towards the upstairs.

"I'll meet you in the ring?" Luffy says quietly. 

"Sure," Zoro says quietly back. Whispering feels right. It feels like they're doing something illegal. He hears Luffy stumble on the rickety top step and tries not to smile 

Zoro unlocks the bar and flicks the lights on. Gets them some bottles of water from the cold room, grabs the iPad in case Luffy actually wants to look up moves to practice, and checks over the ring. Whoever got lumped with the cleaning jobs over the weekend in Zoro's absence did a reasonable job. Maybe Kaden- Zoro should probably be nicer to him. 

Zoro hooks his bag over the corner of the ring and sits on the edge, unlacing Luffy's too-tight shoes. Luffy's probably wearing boots or something, but Zoro's going barefoot. He doesn't really care about broken toes, and it'll give him more flexibility to ram his toes in places. Zoro's got a loose shirt and gym shorts, and when faced with the prospect of wearing Luffy's underwear, he'd opted out. 

Zoro stretches out on his back under the ropes, the smell of the mat familiar and plasticky. Eucalyptus disinfectant and sweat. He flicks through YouTube on the iPad. Flicks through people doing shitty voiceovers with shitty opinions and finds some of the older matches with the Undertaker. He rolls over when he hears Luffy on the steps.

Luffy swings the door open with his boot, stepping into a jump, landing with a bounce with his hands on his hips. His phone is tucked into the waistband, playing music through tinny phone speakers. 

Midnight creeps so slowly into hearts of men who need more than they get-

Luffy's got a mask like Rey Mysterio, red and silver with his mouth uncovered, grinning at Zoro. Tight red lycra ending just below his thighs, rhinestones in a spidery pattern up the sides of his legs and across his chest that catch the light. Thin straps over his shoulders, and more red lycra and rhinestones covering his boots. 

It's tight, and- disco. Zoro grins.

You dance and shake the hurt-

"Nice," Zoro says. 

"Thanks!" Luffy says, and pitches himself across the room, hands on the ropes. He catches himself, ropes bouncing wildly, and grins down at Zoro.

"Whatcha watchin'?" Luffy says. There's something feral in his expression, a gleam in his eye. 

"Undertaker versus Shawn Michaels," Zoro says, tapping the screen so the tinny announcer stops shouting, "Wrestmania 25 though- I was trying to find the Hell in a Cell match with Kane." 

"Yeah, the first one was the best," Luffy says, and looks around the bar, "Maybe we should get a cage."

Zoro snorts, and rolls over. 

Dance, boogie wonderland-

"What do you want to practice?" Zoro says. Luffy looks at him laying on the canvas. Licks his lips. 

"I think I could do a lot more high-flying stuff, you know?" Luffy says, "But it's hard to find someone to practice with."

"Yeah," Zoro says, clicking around for videos, "I could find some variations, maybe-"

"Zoro," Luffy says, "Could you put the tablet down?" 

Zoro blinks up at him. Luffy stares down at him. Tosses his phone on on the seat, music dying. 

Oh. Practice. Right.

Zoro rolls over and slides the tablet down the side of the ring, trying not to damage the screen as he drops it on the floor. Sticking his ass up, maybe. Just a bit. He's not surprised when Luffy pounces. 

Zoro lets himself get dragged backwards across the mat to the middle, twisting and grabbing the back of Luffy's knee, yanking his support out. Luffy drops his knee and rolls with a gleeful shout, landing on his knees behind Zoro. Zoro pauses, staring up at him. Luffy also pauses, blinking down at him. His smile wavers. 

"Do you want to make it interesting?" Zoro says.

Luffy cocks his head.

"Best of three falls," Zoro says, "Loser gets fucked."

Luffy's pupils blow wide, and he bites his lip.

"You're already injured," Luffy says slowly, "I'm not sure it would be fair."

Zoro grins. No issue with fucking in the ring, then. 

"Do your flips," Zoro says, "I'll catch you. But I won't make it easy."

Luffy nods, looking like he's coming around to the idea, but what Zoro can see of his eyebrows are furrowed.

"Last time was fun," Zoro says, tucking his knees up and rolling over, pushing off the ground to lean back against the ropes, "I've got stuff in the bag."

"Stuff-?" Luffy says, looking over at the drawstring bag, hanging innocent on the corner of the ring. He's going red under his mask. All of him, bright red and sparkly. Hot. 

"Gonna to do some flips for me?" Zoro says. He pulls his shirt off one-handed, watches Luffy bounce to his feet as he tosses it over the side. Unlike Luffy, he's got nothing to change back into. 

"Zoro is pretty flexible," Luffy says, circling around, "Maybe you could show me some moves?"

Luffy's never seen him fight- not really. And Luffy's kind of wrestling isn't really Zoro's style- it's hard not to take openings, to give people a moment, to pick up the move and finish it safely. Build up, play a character. It's meant to be fun, showy, a slightly safer kind of brutal. Playing off eachother, and the audience.

There's no audience. No reason to pretend. 

Zoro has all of Luffy's attention. He's not usually the one to start- when he fucks around with Sanji or Patty, it's them starting. Usually he can goad them into it. Those kinds of moves aren't what Luffy's looking for though.

Zoro licks his lips. Shakes his arms out, stretching. Luffy doesn't seem to be left or right-handed, always switching between them. He had some kind of chest injury, but it doesn't seem to be affecting his range of motion much. Zoro circles around, and Luffy matches him, letting him take his time. 

Zoro just keeps coming back to the way Luffy can stretch, and how he can't win. And Luffy's not just stretchy- he's strong. It would be one thing, to work out how to deal with his arms snaking out, but Luffy can toss him like a pebble on a lake. Zoro's stronger than most people- he can flip Luffy just as hard, but it's pointless when Luffy bounces like a basketball. Hand to hand- it's not a fair pairing. Zoro could only win in a staged fight.

So- maybe Zoro's the heel. Maybe he fights a little dirty, in the absence of a referee. 

Zoro darts forward, straight for a flying tackle. Luffy barks out a laugh and hip tosses him, and then its on. Zoro's kip-up is admittedly sloppy, knife wound throbbing, but he manages to land it in time to let Luffy toss him against the ropes in a Irish Whip. Zoro bounces and rolls out flat on the mat. 

It's a classic setup, and Zoro's grinning when Luffy leaps back onto the ropes and bounces high into a 450 splash. He lands gut-to-gut with Zoro, knees clear and and rebounds, wrapping his arm around Zoro's thigh in a lateral press. It's enough to make Zoro gasp, shorts riding up, but he's not letting Luffy secure a pinfall that easy. 

Zoro bridges, elevating himself enough to disrupt Luffy's grip, and reverses into a submission hold, grabbing for Luffy's arm and then his leg when the lycra makes his grip slip. He manages a get a Luffy's arm and leg back into an arm bar leg lock, and it still counts even if Luffy's giggling and half hard in his tight shorts. Zoro holds him in place, breathing hard as Luffy wriggles half-heartedly. 

"One," Zoro grunts, releasing Luffy and rolling back over. He's already starting to sweat. It's only early. Luffy hasn't even tried to boa constrict him. 

Luffy rolls over, bounces to his feet. 

"Zoro is a good catch," Luffy says, and Zoro takes a moment to realise that Luffy means literal catch, cheeks hot.

Luffy stretches out across the ring, grabbing Zoro by the shoulders and yanking himself forward. Zoro snorts and hip tosses Luffy across the mat, more force this time. One more pin and Luffy's fucked. Zoro doesn't expect to win, though. Luffy's just playing. 

Luffy rolls, sideways and backwards, arm snaking out, yanking Zoro's leg out from under him.

Luffy's arm is too rubbery to hold a grip, so Zoro rolls sideways instead, breaking Luffy's grip, but he's in prime position to watch Luffy bounce himself back up on the ropes, spring-boarding off the top rope and corkscrew spinning. It's a beautiful move, and Luffy manages to get hangtime like Zoro's rarely seen, so he doesn't even mind catching the crossbody, landing hard on the mat and sliding, sweaty. 

Luffy keeps rolling over and pulls him into a pin- a weird one. Rolled up, caught behind the knees and around the neck, Zoro's pressed in tight against Luffy's body.

"What's this called?" Zoro grunts, liking the way Luffy's knee nudges under his groin.

"Oh- I don't uh, cradle- or maybe, pequeño-?," Luffy gasps, sounding a bit embarrassed, "Small package?"

Zoro snorts, biting the thin skin over Luffy's ribs. Luffy lets out a harsh breath.

"Not really an issue here," Zoro says, and he's got one hand free enough to grab Luffy's dick, roughly fondling the shape under the lycra. He can't see, but he can feel the way Luffy twitches, the heat of his body under the fabric.

"Zoro," Luffy says, arm tight around his neck.

"What," Zoro says, cupping Luffy's balls.

"One," Luffy says quietly. Oh yeah. 

Zoro bites him again, sinking his teeth in where the edge of Luffy's outfit meets skin, and feels Luffy's dick twitch. 

Luffy kicks his leg up, releases the hold. Zoro rolls over, biting his lip when he sees how flushed Luffy is, the way the blush spreads dark against his tan, down his neck. 

"Best of three," Luffy says, like Zoro might have forgotten, smile wicked as he gets up on hands and knees.

Zoro nods, leans back against the ropes. Both of them only need one more pin. They haven't really done much- it's a fast match, but their audience is non-existent, and Zoro's scalp prickles with the memory of the last time Luffy fucked him. 

"Come on then," Zoro says, pulling himself up.

Luffy grins, launching himself across the ring. It's less flashy moves and more full-body grappling, and Zoro's only half-convinced Luffy's actually trying to pin him, more than just getting as much of his body touching Zoro's as he can.

It's good though, rolling around on the mat, and Luffy grabs his ass enough to lead Zoro to think he has no intention of losing. Presses his fingertips in hard, possessive. 

Zoro grinds on his thigh anytime he can catch it between his legs, and they're both sweat-slicked and breathing hard by the time Zoro gets Luffy somewhat held down. Zoro's leaking into his shorts, hard and hot, and he can see a wet patch growing where Luffy's cock is trapped tight under the tight red fabric. 

Zoro can't help it- he leans in, catching Luffy's open mouth and grabbing for his dick. Luffy kisses him back, wet and sloppy, and folds his leg over, pressing Zoro back onto the mat. He loops one arm around and around Zoro's chest, sliding tight against where Zoro's nipples are peaked against the friction.

Zoro drops his head back against the mat, breathing hard. Pinned. 

"Two," Luffy says, hot against his neck.

Zoro hears the drawstring bag hit the canvas, Luffy's arm snapping back like a rubber band as he pulls the bag across the room. 

"Wait- one more," Zoro gasps, "Show me one more." Groped-on-mat isn't exactly a finisher. Luffy blinks at him, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. His mask is skewed, crooked and sliding backwards, and he's lost a few rhinestones. 

"Finish me," Zoro says. Luffy smiles, kissing him on the cheek, and catapults Zoro backwards across the mat.

Zoro snatches his bag as he slides past, bare feet scrabbling to slow himself down. He ends up laid out flat in the center of the ring, watches Luffy take a casual, loping stride, and jump to the top of the ropes, turning and launching.

"Quebrada!" Luffy shouts, echoing around the empty bar, backflipping through the air in a complete circle, smooth and high. 

Perfectly executed. Practice- yeah, right. 

Zoro catches him across the stomach as he lands over Zoro, knees clear and hands grasping. 

"Rey Pirata, victorious again," Zoro says, catching his breath.

Luffy wraps himself around Zoro, one arm hooked around his thigh. Zoro puts a hand on Luffy's face, brushing the sweat beaded on Luffy's cheek up into his hair. Pushes Luffy's mask back, slow.

Luffy lets him, licking his lips and shutting his eyes. Luffy's hair is drenched in sweat, curls flattened by his mask. Zoro runs his hand though the sweaty strands, ruffling them back into something like his normal bounce. Luffy opens his eyes, mouth open slightly. Unmasked, its easy to see how red his cheeks are.

Zoro rolls his hips, tests Luffy's grip.

Luffy smiles. Heated. Feral. 

Chapter Text

Luffy kisses him, open-mouthed and wet, sucking on his tongue. It's wet and messy, and he keeps pushing back on Zoro's leg until he's gasping, muscles in his thigh burning. Zoro reaches out to the side, slapping the canvas with an open palm, searching for the bag. He opens it up and smacks the bottle of lube against Luffy's shiny red chest. 

Luffy leans back and bites his lip, easing back on Zoro's thigh so he can take the bottle.

"You really want to-?" Luffy says, "Right here?" He doesn't sound uninterested- his mouth is red from kissing and Zoro can feel his hips jerk against Zoro's leg, hard under the lycra. Zoro can't wait to peel it off him. Or maybe- maybe he keeps it on. Hmm.

"Fuck me," Zoro says, "Breakfast crew doesn't start until four-thirty."

Luffy laughs, and flips him. He seems to have taken Zoro's more-than-human strength in stride- he slams Zoro on the canvas and drags him backwards by his hips, ass up. Drags his gym shorts down and digs his fingers into the meat of Zoro's cheek, slapping the bruises when Zoro twitches and kicks back. 

There's a pause, and Luffy's rummaging in the bag. Zoro shifts on his knees and regrets not digging around for knee pads. Luffy's not exactly the lightest load. 

"What are you looking for?" Zoro says, dropping his elbow and turning on his side to look back. Luffy grabs his ankle as it passes in front of him, casual, warm hand gripping him tight around the delicate bones, and blinks down at him.

"Oh, uh," Luffy says, "There's no condoms."

"Yeah," Zoro says. He puts his bare foot up against Luffy's shoulder, pressing down a bit. Testing. He's never been with someone as flexible as Luffy. If he'd drunkenly hooked up with someone limber, or strong, they usually only tossed him around once or twice. Luffy routinely wrestles anywhere up to twenty minutes straight in a match. However much longer in practice. 

Luffy squeezes his ankle. Tilts his head.

Zoro hooks his other leg around Luffy's thigh and tips him, grabbing his shoulder. Luffy rolls, smooth, letting Zoro reposition himself with his knees on either side of Luffy's narrow hips. Zoro leans down, bites his shoulder, up his neck. Luffy's holding the lube in one hand and Zoro's waist in the other, sliding his fingers on Zoro's bare skin. 

"I saw your tests," Zoro says against Luffy's neck, in case that's the issue, "Fuck me." 

Luffy rolls his hips under Zoro, kisses his shoulder. Zoro leans back and pushes his gym shorts down enough to get his dick out, elastic snapping under his balls. Pumps himself, slow. He's been hard for half their match. Zoro's wet at the tip, and he licks his palm, just enough that its not dry when he touches himself again. 

Luffy looks up at him with wide eyes, mouth open, and reaches down to touch himself, curling his fingers over the wet spot where his dick is trapped tight against his stomach, leaking precum. Zoro drags a hand up his own chest, digging his fingers into his pec and tugging sharp on his nipple, watching Luffy watch him. 

Zoro enjoys the tension. The tease. Because it won't last- for all that he draws it out, Luffy's not patient. Neither is Zoro. 

Zoro's not surprised when Luffy brings his knees up, throwing Zoro overhead. It's a controlled fall, Zoro tucking his chin and Luffy's palms steady on his skin, making sure he doesn't go far.

Luffy rolls over him again, swings his leg over Zoro's face, and grins down at him. It's not quite the sixty-nine from last time, Luffy sitting up and pulling his shorts down, cock springing out an inch from Zoro's face.  

Zoro opens his mouth, tongue out. Luffy licks his lips, and presses his thumb into Zoro's mouth, which- it's not exactly what Zoro wanted.

Luffy presses deeper, down to the webbing of his palm as he curls his fingers around Zoro's chin. He smears precum down the side of Zoro's face, the head of his cock hot and wet on his cheek as he watches Zoro suck on his thumb.

Zoro glares up at up Luffy, wrapping his tongue around his thumb, sucking hard. 

"Zoro is so pretty," Luffy tells him, and it's as bad as last time, where Zoro can feel his cheeks heat up, trapped by the warmth in Luffy's stare. Luffy must like it, smearing Zoro's spit over his bottom lip, grabbing his dick and pumping his shaft, spreading precum all over Zoro's face before he presses the head against Zoro's bottom lip.

Zoro opens his mouth, tongue presses against his bottom lip. He shifts, getting his neck into a better position, and Luffy eases the head of his cock in against his tongue. Salty musk wet against his tongue, Zoro shuts his eyes as Luffy feeds him his cock, sucking down each inch he's given. 

Luffy groans, leaning over him and rebalancing so he can thrust into Zoro's mouth. Zoro brings a hand up to circle the base of Luffy's cock, making sure he doesn't slip out as he uses Zoro's mouth.

It's not the roughest Zoro's had- Luffy's practically gentle compared to what he's used to- but he's got a big dick even when he doesn't expand it and Zoro's on the kind of angle that makes him gag and drool, tears forming at his waterline. 

"So good," Luffy murmurs, and Zoro can feel him staring down at him, "So good for me, Zoro." 

Zoro reaches down with his other hand to grab his own dick, pushing the gym shorts away where they ride up under his balls. Luffy murmurs and leans over, yanking Zoro's shorts down until they're only on one leg.

He doesn't let up fucking Zoro's mouth, just pauses when he's pressed deep and grabs at Zoro's leg, folding his knee and running his fingers down the inside of Zoro's thigh, rolling his balls in a possessive grip.

Zoro grabs his wrist, tries to get Luffy to jerk him off, but Luffy twists out and brings Zoro's hand up to his chest.

"Touch yourself," Luffy says, and Zoro pulls back enough to release the head of Luffy's cock, swallowing hard his mouthful of spit and precum.

Zoro feels like a mess, breathing hard as Luffy's wet cock smears against his mouth and chin. He touches himself anyway, scraping his fingernails up his ribs and twisting his nipple enough to make himself gasp. 

It's a little performative, maybe, because he normally tries to keep quiet, but Luffy likes it. He always seems to like it when Zoro makes sounds.

Tonight is no exception, and Luffy murmurs something that sounds like praise, grabbing the lube and squirting some out all over Zoro's cock. It's too much, there won't be enough friction, and Zoro groans, mouthing the side of Luffy's cock, because of course, Luffy's not just going to fuck him and be done with it. 

Luffy smears the lube around, smothers Zoro's dick in it, pumping fast and hard and then letting go entirely to get his balls just as wet. He runs his wet fingers down, presses hard against Zoro's perineum, and pauses there, thumb rubbing when Zoro's hips jerk. 

"Fuck me already," Zoro mutters against Luffy's thigh, pumping his shaft and sucking the head of Luffy's cock back into his mouth.

Luffy groans, hips jerking, rubbing lube around Zoro's rim. Zoro hums, annoyed, when Luffy pumps out more lube and pushes it against his hole, getting him so wet it runs down his crack and smears against the plasticky mat. 

Luffy slides one long finger in, smooth, and eases back, pressing in again with the tips of two. Zoro's wet, but he's tight, and it's a good, familiar pain when Luffy keeps pushing in, twisting two fingers in deep. 

"Zoro is always so tight," Luffy says, sounding like he's in awe. Perks of healing Zoro doesn't say, because he's busy choking himself on Luffy's cock. Luffy gets him up to three fingers, alternating between fucking his fingers in deep and playing with Zoro's slicked up dick, and seems like he wants to go for the pinky as well, slick sounds loud in Zoro's ears. 

Zoro pulls back on Luffy's cock, swallowing salt-tang spit, and slides himself out from under Luffy. The mat is slick with sweat underneath him, and Luffy grabs his leg with his less-lubed hand, not letting him go far.

Zoro flips over, pushing Luffy down and grabbing for his cock. Luffy grins at him, hands on Zoro's waist, wet fingers smearing lube over his sweaty skin. Zoro kicks his gym shorts off completely, the leg caught on his foot. 

"Zoro-," Luffy starts, and Zoro doesn't really care what he has to say, grabbing Luffy's cock and lining himself up, tilting his hips so the head catches on his wet hole. Luffy cuts off with a groan, digging his fingers into Zoro's skin as he forces himself down on Luffy's cock. 

Zoro's still tight enough to feel the sting as the widest part of Luffy's cock is pressed inside, but once he's got the head in, the lube makes it easier. Luffy's only slicked up with spit and pre-cum, so there's enough friction to make Zoro's dick jerk and start to leak again. 

Zoro rolls his hips and inches his way to the base, palm splayed out on Luffy's sparkly chest. He reaches back down to check, to feel the tight wet stretch of his rim around the base of Luffy's cock. Bare, he can feel the big vein on the underside of Luffy's cock throbbing, and grabs Luffy's balls with slick fingers. Luffy's big, nice and deep on this angle. 

Luffy lets him play around, get settled. When Zoro looks back down at Luffy, he's broken the skin of his bottom lip, bloodying his mouth, sweat beading on his top lip as he stares up at Zoro with dark eyes. 

"Can I fuck Zoro now?" Luffy says. He sounds pleased- teasing, maybe.

Zoro rolls his eyes, bounces enough to make his dick slap wetly against his bare skin, enjoying the fullness. Luffy's already sweated through the lycra in big patches, and Zoro fully intends to cum all over him. 

Zoro's trying to bounce, the give in the mat below them not helping him maintain a rhythm. He's got about an inch of leverage, grinding Luffy's cock in deep, and it's good, but it's not really fucking. Not like he knows Luffy's capable of.

Zoro's mostly just holding himself in position because he wants Luffy to throw him down. Make him take it. 

Luffy reaches behind Zoro, rubbery arms stretching, and grabs Zoro's ass cheeks, spreading them enough to hurt, digging his fingernails in. Kneading the muscle, making his hole stretch out tighter around Luffy's cock. Zoro grabs his dick, pumping his shaft, annoyed at the wetness making it too smooth, too easy to fuck into his grip. It'll make him last longer though, maybe. 

"Gunna stretch me out?" Zoro says, challenging, "Fill me up?" 

Luffy licks his lips, opening his busted lip up again. When he smiles, his teeth are tinged pink.

"Zoro should know by now," Luffy says, sliding his fingers down to rub against Zoro's hole, "He needs to ask nicely."

"Right," Zoro says, tilting his head back and grinding down on Luffy's cock. He could come like this, eventually. He digs his fingers into Luffy's chest and moans.

Luffy sucks in a breath, wrapping a arm around Zoro's shoulders, pushing Zoro down to the base of his cock and reaching out behind to grab the ropes. Luffy pulls himself up, chest to chest with Zoro, and sinks his teeth into Zoro's collarbone. 

Zoro swears, the abrupt movement stretching his hole and forcing him to shift back off his knees. Luffy's savage, sucking bruises up his neck and licking the sweat off Zoro's skin like he's thirsty.

Luffy grinds him in place, small jerks upwards of his hips, wrapped around Zoro tight. The bite burns like he broke the skin, and Zoro's dick is trapped between them, rhinestones catching rough and making him moan. 

"So good," Luffy says into his neck, mouth hot and wet, "So tight for me." Luffy seems content to grind in deep, but Zoro wants more. He wants to feel it.

It's easier this time, to ask. He knows Luffy's good for it. 

"Fuck me," Zoro hisses into Luffy's ear, "Luffy- come on, please-" 

Luffy mmmms pleased sounds into his neck, leaning back enough to catch Zoro's mouth, licking in. It's wet and hungry, and Zoro can taste blood, coppery in his mouth. Maybe Luffy can taste himself in Zoro's mouth, the bitter tang of precum lingering, because he moans, licks in like he's chasing the flavour.

Zoro has to lean back eventually, catch his breath. 

Luffy shifts his legs, keeping Zoro on his cock while he shuffles to his knees, pulling himself up on rubbery knees. The mat has give to it, flexible to help reduce injuries, and Zoro holds on as well as he can, grip slipping on sweaty skin. Clenching up around Luffy's cock makes him groan, staggering them towards the corner of the ring. 

Zoro lets go of Luffy to grab the ropes, huffing as he's slammed against the turnbuckle. It's padded, solid under his back. Luffy winds himself around Zoro, loops around his neck, and yanks his hair back.

Zoro hisses at the sharp pain, but his dick's leaking all over Luffy's stomach and Luffy must be able to feel the way he clenches up. 

"Zoro should hold on," Luffy says, eyes bright and expression hungry, as if he doesn't have Zoro twisted up in enough loops that he'll never escape.

Zoro wraps his forearm around the top rope on each side anyway, because the tension is good and the idea of Luffy giving him rope burns makes him shudder. 

Luffy leans back, grabs the lube off the mat with his unlooped arm, and Zoro leans forward and bites him.

"No more," Zoro says, trying to get enough leverage to fuck himself down on Luffy's cock, "I want- I like the burn."

"Maybe-," Luffy says, kissing Zoro's cheek and shoving his hand between them, pushing slick fingers against Zoro's rim and slicking up his cock with every slide out, "Maybe I want Zoro dripping wet."

"I can't cum like-" Zoro says, eyes tearing up again when Luffy's grip in his hair shifts and tightens, "It's too wet. It's doesn't-" Hurt enough Zoro doesn't say, but maybe Luffy hears him anyway, twisting Zoro's hair and biting down on his collarbone again, hips jerking. 

It's not just pain- Zoro's not into that alone. He was never going to get hard from the clowns beating on him. It's the way Luffy's fucking up into him, pulling his hair, sucking wet marks against his skin, hot, hungry, wanting him. Hard for him. And Zoro knows- if he didn't want it, if he wanted to stop- Luffy would stop. He wants everything though. Wants to be overwhelmed. 

"Zoro can cum," Luffy says, fucking him slow, dropping him onto his cock, lube falling on the mat as Luffy reaches between them to grab Zoro's balls in a tight grip, "Zoro can cum anytime he likes." 

Zoro kicks at his back with his heel, growling as Luffy laughs and tightens his grip. The loop around Zoro's throat tightens too, pressing against his windpipe and jugular, and Zoro glares at Luffy, mouth open.

Luffy looks at him intently, licking Zoro's blood off his lips. Zoro's about to tell him to fuck him properly, and then he feels Luffy shift his grip, eyelids dropping as he starts to fuck up into Zoro harder, bigger than before.

"Yeah, fuck-" Zoro gasps around the tightening chokehold, "Fuck- stretch me out-"

Luffy's big, fucking up into him increasingly fast, and it's even better than last time, because he's dropped on Luffy's cock, gravity giving him no option except to take it, muscles burning as he grips the top ropes and tries not to whine. 

Luffy's only using one arm and his hip strength to hold him up, looped a dozen times around him, so he's got a free hand to reach down and play with Zoro's dick. He doesn't jerk him off, just toys with him, digging his thumb under the head of Zoro's cock to make him gasp. 

Luffy's still slowly growing in size, stretching out Zoro's hole just a little with every thrust, and Zoro can feel his balls drawing up tight, so of course Luffy stops touching him, leaving him hanging on the edge and dribbling precum.

"How many times can Zoro come?" Luffy says, pinching Zoro's left nipple until he shudders and kicks. Even when he lets go, Zoro's nipple stings, throbbing pain in time with his racing heartbeat, and Luffy makes it worse by sucking the bud into his mouth, laving his tongue over Zoro's nipple, wet heat so good. It's even better when he sinks his teeth in, biting down hard enough to bruise. 

"One," Zoro says, cheeks burning, "Fucking- once."

Luffy leans back, eyebrows high. He's slowed down again, rolling his hips more than thrusting as he gets Zoro used to taking him bigger. 

"Best of three?" Luffy says, sliding his free hand down Zoro's back, rubbing his fingers against his hot, stretch-tight rim. 

Zoro blinks at him, not really comprehending when he's focused on Luffy's finger against his hole, pushing in beside his cock where there's no room for it. He's wet, lube and pre-cum letting Luffy's fingertip slide in, but it stings. 

"So tight," Luffy murmurs, not seeming to care that Zoro's just twitching in his grip, "But Zoro can take more."

That gets Zoro's attention. 

"Yeah," Zoro says, swallowing hard, throat clicking against the warm skin of Luffy's forearm, "Yeah- fuck, fill me up."

Luffy slides his finger out, dropping Zoro on his cock again, faster this time. He turns his attention back to Zoro's chest, latching onto his right nipple this time, sucking and licking until he's stiff under the attention, peaked against the cold air, and then he starts using his teeth, laving over the abused skin while Zoro squirms in his unyielding grip. 

Zoro drops his head back against the turnbuckle, as much as he can with Luffy wrapped around him, and stares at the cobwebs on the ceiling, breathing hard. When he looks down, Luffy's staring at him, mouth open and breathing hot all over Zoro's wet chest, red and starting to bruise under the attention. 

He's still getting bigger. Zoro shifts, tries not to whine, legs shaky around Luffy's waist. The top ropes are starting to chafe his skin, too long rubbing against them, and he tries to focus on the feeling.

Luffy's back to playing with Zoro's dick, jerking him off slowly, half the speed that he fucks Zoro open, and Zoro shuts his eyes. He's on the edge of cumming, on the edge of too much, and it's so good. 

Hopefully, Luffy's going to hang around for a while. Zoro's not sure how he goes back to trying to find someone on Grindr who doesn't drink, and can fuck him three ways to Sunday. Someone that smiles at him, makes him laugh. Luffy's- he's-

Luffy's a fucking tease. Zoro's shaking, losing grip on the ropes, and Luffy shoves his face in Zoro's neck against the loop of his arm, whispers shit in Spanish that Zoro probably doesn't want translated.

Fucking up into him with a roll of his hips, grip so tight on Zoro's cock that he doesn't fully realise when he's coming, cum dribbling out all over his stomach and Luffy's rhinestoned stomach. 

It's good, it's good, it's good, and then it's too much, and Zoro's getting choked through it, hard enough his vision goes spotty and he loses grip on the ropes, grabbing for Luffy's sweaty shoulders. He comes down a bit when Luffy steps back, the lurch of gravity making Zoro tense, helpless in Luffy's grip. 

"Uno," Luffy says, sounding pleased, and Zoro's not an expert in Romance languages, but he understands the implication. 

Luffy drops them, hand in Zoro's hair flatting out, palm protecting the back of his head as he lays Zoro out on the mat and keeps fucking him, on his knees between Zoro's shakey thighs. The new angle shifts how his cock carves out Zoro's insides, and it's worse, or better? More friction on Zoro's prostate, but he's already cum. 

Zoro feels like his heart is beating out of his chest, and when he slaps Luffy's shoulder, hard, Luffy unwinds from his throat, lets him gasp and and swallow and catch his breath. Kisses down his chest, running his fingers through Zoro's cum. 

Zoro opens his eyes in time to watch Luffy put sticky fingers in his mouth, tongue pink as he sucks Zoro's cum off his fingers. Zoro grabs for his own thighs, holding his legs wider so Luffy can lean in and kiss him. Choke him on his tongue, all eager while Zoro's still recovering. 

"Too much?" Luffy says against his mouth. 

"Fuck me already," Zoro hisses, sweat running into his eyes. Back to the mat, he slides with every snap of Luffy's hips against his ass, overheated and wanting. Luffy grabs his hips, pulling him back on his cock, bouncing his hips and smiling, savage, as Zoro's soft dick slaps against his stomach. 

Luffy's still dressed, light sparkling off his chest, brilliant red, and Zoro can feel Luffy's shorts against the backs of his thighs, stretchy fabric bunched up and drenched in sweat and lube. There's something illicit about Luffy, fully dressed, laying him out naked on the mat.

Zoro's not really into degradation, but he feels- he feels like a slut, rolls a stupid fantasy around in his mind that he's one of Luffy's fanboys after a show. Spreading his legs- easy for the winner. Not realising what he's gotten himself into. 

Luffy's not the brute of Zoro's little fantasy, but he's not exactly going easy on him, shoving his wet fingers in Zoro's mouth as soon as he's stopped gasping, hard on his tongue and tight at the corners of his mouth, making Zoro gag and drool.

Luffy keeps pulling Zoro back, fingers digging into his hip hard to keep a grip, and Zoro can't quite take him all the way down on this angle, stretched out an inch from the swollen base of Luffy's cock. He's still so wet, split open, and every now and then Luffy grabs the meat of his thigh instead, lifting his ass so he can fuck deeper, push in right to the base, forcing Zoro to take it. 

Luffy pulls his fingers out of Zoro's mouth, rubs his spit all over his chin, thumb pressed hard against Zoro's upper canines. He seems to like Zoro's mouth open, the way Zoro tries to lick his thumb. He grabs Zoro's sore nipple, twists it hard, and then his gaze drops to Zoro's dick again. 

"No, no-" Zoro mutters, even as he thrusts into Luffy's deceptively gentle grip on his mostly soft dick.

Luffy pauses, slows down and Zoro kicks him in the small of his back. He's ruining Zoro's immersion with his gentle loving bullshit. 

"Not a real no," Zoro snaps, "Just- fucking-"

Luffy nods, rubs his thumb under the head of Zoro's cock where he's starting to harden up, starting to leak, just a bit. Watches him with dark eyes. 

"Can you say pineapple?" Luffy says.

"Fucking- what?" Zoro says, regretting letting Luffy win so easily. He's going to just bend Luffy over and choke him out next time. 

"If you-," Luffy says, groaning when Zoro clenches down on him, as much as he can when he's stretched to the limit, "If you want me to stop?"

He slows down again, and Zoro throws an arm over his face so he doesn't scream. 

"Fine!" Zoro snaps, "I'll say fucking- pineapple."

"Good," Luffy says, warm, like Zoro's done something amazing, "So good for me, Zoro." He follows up by grabbing Zoro's ankles and throwing his legs over his shoulders, so Zoro can pretend that's why he makes the noise he does, cheeks burning. 

Luffy must like the new angle, because he's groaning, losing rythym, strokes become erratic even as he slams his hips into Zoro's ass with bruising force. He's going to come, deep, and if it's anything like last time he's going to fill Zoro up until he's leaking cum. 

"Take it, Zoro- yeah-," Luffy mutters in between strokes, interspersed with Spanish and pushing Zoro's legs back far enough that it burns, like he's going to snap Zoro in half as he leans down and licks sweat off his aching chest, "So good, so tight-"

Zoro doesn't feel tight. He feels stretched out, like he's been remoulded just to fit Luffy's swollen cock, like he'll never be tight again. In his fantasy he's trapped here forever, just taking and taking, load after load until Luffy's done with him. 

Zoro's moaning and saying all kinds of stupid shit, no, no, it's too much, don't cum in me, stop, I can't, and Luffy ignores him, pumping Zoro's dick in a wet grip that's so much worse than dry friction. It's too much, so good, his balls tight and his feet tingling like he's losing circulation, bent too far and stretched too much and Luffy's groaning in his ear, grinding himself deep like he's cumming. 

Zoro reaches around his leg, fingers just long enough to feel the hot, wet edge of his rim, leaking cum and lube as Luffy empties himself inside. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Zoro chants, bites down on his forearm, and Luffy grabs his leg in time to avoid getting kicked in the face as Zoro tries to escape and Luffy holds him down, keeps fucking his cum into him, stripping Zoro's dick hard and fast as Zoro shudders and twists, grabbing for the bottom rope of the ring. 

Luffy sinks his teeth into Zoro's shoulder, punching through his skin, and that's enough to make Zoro cum again, tense and whining. Luffy holds him in place while his dick jerks in Luffy's grip, little spurts that mostly just wring him out, and lets him slump back onto the mat, licking over the wound on his shoulder. 

"Two," Luffy murmurs, rolling Zoro on his side so his leg muscles can finally relax, easing back as he shrinks his cock down, sliding out of Zoro with a pleased sound.

Zoro shuts his eyes, cum leaking out of him all over the ring. He gets about ten seconds to recover, and then Luffy's rolling him over fully, onto his stomach, not seeming to mind the way Zoro hisses and kicks as his oversensitive junk is smushed into the canvas. 

"Not that- fuck," Zoro mutters into the mat, slapping Luffy's hands away half-heartedly when Luffy slides him back enough to spread his cheeks. Zoro can feel Luffy staring at his wrecked hole, the way the rim flutters and tries to close, hot and swollen and leaking Luffy's cum.

"Pineapple?" Luffy says, running his hand up Zoro's ribs, gentle and warm. Zoro hunches his shoulders, bringing his arm up to rest his face against, to give him something to bite down on. Says nothing. 

There's not even the paltry excuse of a broken condom this time. Luffy just really likes eating his cum out of Zoro, apparently, and Zoro has to keep gnawing on the bruised skin of his own forearm to stop himself from sobbing.

Luffy spends some time playing with his rim, two fingers digging in and stretching him back out, tongue swirling between his balls and his hole, and then he's moaning and shoving his tongue inside Zoro, eating him out properly with wet, slick noises that make Zoro's ears burn. 

Luffy cums enough that it probably hides the taste of the lube, but Zoro has the wild thought of introducing Luffy to flavoured lube, shuddering as he imagines Luffy fucking him on his tongue for hours, hot cherry and passionfruit all over him.

Zoro can't cum again, not so soon, balls wrung out and body oversensitive, but Luffy's hardening up again, cock wet against the back of Zoro's calf where he's got Zoro's leg trapped under him. 

Zoro lifts his leg a bit, bumping Luffy's cock, tries to distract himself from the way Luffy's pressing on his prostate and sucking on his rim. The bite marks on his chest rub against the mat, nipples sore and rubbed raw, and everything hurts, in a good way. Overwhelming. Maybe Luffy will fuck him again. He's not sure- he's not sure he can take it. 

When Luffy's cleaned him up enough to be satisfied, he grabs Zoro and rolls him onto his back, splayed out and fucked loose. Zoro blinks into the brightness of the lights, arms above his head so he can cover his face. Luffy sits up, heels under his ass, and spreads Zoro's legs with one hand, stroking his cock with the other. 

Zoro watches him from between his fingers, mouth open, as Luffy stares down at the mess all over Zoro's front, blood and sweat, lube and cum, and licks his lips. Luffy's chin is shiny with cum and lube, chest heaving and sparkling. 

Luffy bites his lip and stares at Zoro while he cums, splattering all over Zoro's soft cock and balls, up his chest and down the insides of his thighs, rubbing the sticky fluid around with the tip of his cock. There's less than before, when he came inside, but its still enough that Zoro can feel it dripping, sticky globs adding to the mess underneath him. 

"You done?" Zoro says, watching Luffy zone out while he smears his cum under Zoro's balls, wet fingers getting close to Zoro's sore hole like he wants to keep playing. Zoro draws his leg up, foot ready to kick if Luffy continues to stare at him like a four-course meal. Intent. 

"Mmmm," Luffy says eloquently, and then flops sideways, stretching out on the mat beside him.

Zoro shuts his eyes. He's feeling shaky, like he's gone all day without food or water. Luffy seems like he's fallen asleep, eyes shut and body loose. His dick is finally soft, wet and lax against the bunched up red lycra, smeared with cum.

No amount of machine washing is going to save this outfit. 

"Hey," Zoro says, kicking at Luffy's leg, and swallows hard, spit like glue. His throat is fucked, between the dick-sucking and all the embarrassing noises. Well, shit. If Luffy's taking a nap- he's just as entitled.

Zoro drags his elbow over his eyes, sore and tired. His skin feels tight, and there's buzzing in his ears, everything washed out and mellow. He only intends to rest his eyes, and startles when something cold and wet touches his chest.

Luffy pauses, cloth in hand, not seeming offended by Zoro nearly snapping his wrist. Luffy's got a sleepy-eyed look as he stares down at Zoro's naked body that makes his cheeks heat up. It's been long enough that Luffy's pulled his boots off and found the bottles of water and cloths, shorts pulled back up over his junk.

Zoro lets him wipe up some of the cum, gone tacky all over him, and sits up against the turnbuckle, snatching the cloth from Luffy so he can shove it under his ass properly. 

Luffy watches him. Opens a bottle of water, and tilts it at him, an expectant look on his face. Zoro's thirsty anyway, so he doesn't tell him to fuck off. Luffy smiles when he finishes the bottle, tossing the empty plastic at Luffy. 

"Maybe a condom would have been better," Luffy says, something hungry in his gaze as he stares at the mess all over Zoro. As if a condom would have reduced the blast radius of Luffy, horny and intent on fucking him up. 

"There's a shower," Zoro grunts, taking his time to crawl under the ropes and off the side of the ring, not wanting Luffy to know how shaky he feels. It's pointless, because Luffy's in that post-orgasm phase of intense, where he hovers in Zoro's periphery and seems like he's two seconds away from putting him into a bridal carry.

Zoro is back to the un-horny phase of sore, and keeps an eye on every object he could reasonably use to stab Luffy if he so much as touches him. 

The shower is, thankfully, on the ground floor, tucked into the corner of the break room where customers can't find it.

Zoro's pretty sure it's been here longer than the bar, and it looks like a home-job, all unfinished concrete and poly-pipe through the walls. No real taps, just the kind of water valves that usually control water flow into something like a washing machine, and a calcium-caked shower head.

Still, the water is hot as fuck, and there's enough room that Luffy doesn't technically have to touch him. 

Zoro gets tired of holding his arms up to rinse the sweat out of his hair, and turns to face Luffy.

"Wash my back?" Zoro says. He can't make eye contact, because what he intended to come out casual comes out slightly wobbly instead, and Luffy inches in closer, palm hovering above his arm. The steam is kind of making him dizzy, and Zoro stares unseeing at the water running down Luffy's naked chest.

"No problem," Luffy says, stepping in close and rinsing the sweat and lube off the small of his back. Zoro leans on him, maybe, and it's a good thing Luffy's strong, because he's shakier than he realises and wobbles when Luffy leans over for more soap. 

"Zoro?" Luffy says, wrapping an arm around him to steady him. 

"Probably should eat something," Zoro mutters, and Luffy hums, sounding concerned. He cleans Zoro up though, turning the water pressure down enough that it's a lukewarm sprinkle rather than a heated deluge, and doesn't release him until Zoro's sitting at the break table, bare ass wet on the fabric seat.

Zoro drops his head on his arms on the table and resolves to never reveal their activities to anyone at the Baratie. 

Luffy wanders off and comes back with his gym bag, changed back into his normal shirt, shorts and rainbow crocs. He's got two bags of pork crackle and a bag of salted peanuts from the bar, a glass bottle of gingerale, and another bottle of water. Zoro snorts, cracking the gingerale and sipping it. 

"There's a whole restaurant," Zoro says, but he takes the pork crackle, ripping the bag open and shoveling bits into his mouth. The flavour combination reminds him of when he first started working at the bar, still too hungover on weekdays to bother meal prepping, or grocery shopping in general. 

"Oh," Luffy says, scraping his chair across the floor to sit down right next to Zoro, "I know. I just don't want Mr Zeff to think he's got mice or something."

Zoro crunches on his pork crackle. Zoro doesn't exactly eat like a mouse, and Luffy is a cavernous pit of consumption. Luffy leaves him these snacks though, apparently content to sip water and stare at the side of Zoro's head. The clock over the staff table reads 3.15am. 

"Do you work tomorrow?" Luffy says, once Zoro's finished the second bag of pork crackle and feels less spacey.

"Today?" Zoro says, picking at the peanuts, "No. I don't think so." He should probably check the roster while he's here, though Zeff might have mentally changed it in the wake of Zoro looking fucked up. Zeff must know about his mutation, but he's weird about Zoro looking too rough while he's behind the counter.

"Okay," Luffy says, still watching Zoro like he's a TV finale. The bites are scabbing over, prickles of pain when he moves or breathes, sore and throbbing. He'll be fine in a few hours. Like it never happened.

"Luffy-," Zoro starts.

"Hey, Zoro?" Luffy says at the same time, and pauses.

Zoro leans back and makes a you talk kind of gesture, relieved, because he's not sure exactly what would have come out of his mouth. 

"Would you like to come back to my apartment?" Luffy says, slow, eyes wide and innocent.

It's not innocent though. There's the weight of his stare, the way he leans forward on his seat, the way he doesn't react when the clock dings, signalling 3.30am. 

Zoro can feel his heart rate pick up again, and he sips his gingerale so he doesn't have to answer. Luffy blinks at him, and then grabs for his gym bag, fishing around in the front pocket.

"You know, you said," Luffy says, "I have-" He pulls out his wallet, velcro mutant ninja turtles, and a carefully folded twenty-dollar note. 

"I banked it," Luffy says, "Zoro can stay one more night."

"One more night," Zoro repeats, staring at the note. That conversation- it feels like a century ago. It wasn't meant to mean anything, and now Luffy's licking his lips and looking a bit nervous. 

"Well," Luffy says, something shy in his tone, "One more night without needing to be on the lease."

It's Zoro's turn to stare. Luffy's slowly turning red, but he's confident, leaning in and putting his hand on Zoro's bare leg.

"I'm in town for a while," Luffy says, face as close to serious as he gets without violence, "Zoro does not have to sleep on Sanji's floor. It makes sense to share, right?"

"Right," Zoro repeats, still catching up. Luffy beams at him, smile like the midday sun, scorching. Zoro's already sweating.

"Luffy- I'm not-" Zoro starts, but boyfriend material is too forward, puts words in Luffy's mouth that he hasn't said. That's not- Luffy's right. It makes sense. Live-in fuckbuddy. Someone who knows about Luffy's mutation, his weird habits, his odd family.  

"I'm not a very good housemate," Zoro finishes lamely, crumpling the metal cap off his ginger ale. Luffy laughs, just quietly, smiling at him.

"Neither am I!" Luffy says, "Zoro is the only one to not complain so far." 

"You'll have to take the ad down," Zoro says, not really thinking, still turning the idea over in his mind. 

"Oh- I already did," Luffy says brightly, "After Zoro rang me and before I went to Usopp's." 

That's- the worst time he could have possibly gone to the hostel. While Morgan was actively looking for him, and he'd be fresh in the minds of whatever unfortunate staff member was on shift at the hostel.

Zoro shuts his eyes. Luffy's so fucking stupid.

Zoro is too though, because the more he thinks about playing house with Luffy, the more he likes the idea. 

"For how long?" Zoro says, tapping his fingers on the table, and then stopping when he realises he's doing it. Naked with Luffy all up in his space, he can't just curl his toes up tight or stab a nail into his palm. 

"Well, I think," Luffy says,  "Grandpa makes me sign again every three months. I think it's mostly so I have to talk to him, but- maybe that long, and then we see?" He looks so pleased, smiling at Zoro. 

"Okay," Zoro says quietly, willing to blame his tiredness for the way he lets Luffy hug him, kissing all over his face. Zoro shuts his eyes, kissing him back when Luffy catches his mouth, and loses his breath when Luffy uses his tongue, fingers wound tight in Zoro's wet hair. 

It's just after 4am when they sneak back down the alleyway, locking up behind. It's cool outside, the road slippery.

Luffy takes his hand, crocs squeaking on the wet bitumen. The street light turns green, and Luffy's smile glows. 

Zoro, helpless, smiles back.