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Sanji gently pushed the handle to the corridor's door, the one that lead to the boy's dorms. He was putting efforts into making as less noise as possible, given the late hour. Everyone had gone to sleep a few hours ago already, but the cook was busy sorting out his kitchen. Keeping everything tidy was tougher, now that their swordsman had taken a similar liking to food as their captain's, and he was working overnight more often than not.
Not that he minded.
As he pushed the door, trying to avoid any loud creaking of the wood, he was surprised to find the room lit up. Puzzle came together when he pushed some more to reveal Zoro, standing there in his naked glory in the middle a pile of clothes thrown at his feet.
Sanji's first reaction was to gasp softly, and close back the door with as little noise as he could. He hadn't expected the swordsman to be there, even less naked.
"That was you, curls ?" Zoro's called from behind the door. "Come back in, I need help,"
Sanji swore under his breath before opening. There went his very slime hope of going unnoticed. "Try to whisper, Marimo. Everyone's asleep," he muttered as he entered the corridor once more.
Fuck. Zoro was unfortunately still naked before him. Sanji opted for the best option he had and closed his eyes shut.
"Really ?" Zoro said flatly. "Don't be a baby, you saw me naked before. And you're gonna need your eyes."
The cook blinked one eye open to watch Zoro heave his bloated belly out of the way to point at his pajamas laying on the floor.
He almost shut his eyes closed again. That was his very issue. Zoro was smoking hot with all this damn fat added to him. Months of eating like a beast made him grow morbidly obese, huge gut bloating forward and heavily hanging down. The muscles weren't lost on him and if anything they managed to make him look bigger. Unable to not look now that he's been asked, he studied the way Zoro's belly looked somehow even larger than usual, nearly filling the width of the corridor. It wasn't a surprise to find him that bloated, Sanji thought as he recalled the dinner he shoved down his throat. He swallowed with difficulty, mouth suddenly very dry. Imagining all of that food sitting inside the swordsman's stomach was making him a little dizzy.
Zoro's voice thankfully brought him back to earth. "I dropped my PJs," he simply said. And Sanji followed the finger that was still pointing to the pile of clothes at his feet.
It was obvious Zoro's silhouette didn't allow for a kneel down. His belly was probably in the way of even seeing where said PJs had fallen exactly. "Do you need help putting them on ?" Sanji asked as he grabbed at all of Zoro's stuff on the floor. The swordsman hummed, before nodding. "Not here then," Sanji said. "We're gonna wake everyone up."
He walked to the bathroom while Zoro shuffled behind him. Sanji tried to think of anything else while his attention was of course fully focused on the faint sloshing sound each step caused on the swordsman's belly. Zoro even muffled something in his throat which Sanji guessed was a burp and fuck he loved those. Flicking the bathroom's lights on, he gave his cheeks two strong slaps. Zoro raised an eyebrow at him but thankfully didn't ask anything, and Sanji focused on the task again.
He decided hiding the swordman's smoking hot belly was a priority, therefore shirt was first. Sanji recognized it as one of the shirts Nami most recently got him. It was a simple blue-gray short-sleeved shirt. Something comfortable for chilly nights.
"Raise your arms," the cook said. He got the shirt through the swordsman's head, before getting the arms one after the other. He then tugged the rest of the fabric down, over Zoro's fluffy chest, his distended middle scar.
Sanji tried his best not to purposely brush his fingers on Zoro's skin when he covered his belly. To his demise, the swordsman looked somehow even hotter with the shirt on. His belly hang was pocking at the bottom, because of how stuffed his upper stomach was. Sanji tried to tug some more, but covering it was out of question.
God he looks huge.
Sanji swallowed hardly again. "You-" his voice came out hoarse, forcing him to clear his throat. "You should sit for the pants, it'll be easier."
Zoro sat on the nearest bench obediently. He blocked yet again a noise that Sanji guessed was another belch as he did, and Sanji's head spinned a bit.
The pants were Zoro's usual grey trousers. The upsized ones. Sanji slid both legs in, pulling them up until he couldn't. "Stand back up now," he asked.
Zoro whined at that. "You're making me move around so much," he complained. With an exhausted grunt, he stood up.
Sanji felt like watching in slow motion. The swordsman's belly properly spilled out of the shirt in a messy jiggle. Cowardly, he shut his eyes down again. He needed to get the blood flowing strongly around his nose under control.
"So ? What- ghuurp- now ?" Zoro said under his palm.
Without opening his eyes, Sanji pulled the pants he was still holding up in a swift motion, securing them at the swordman's hips.
He was feeling Zoro's gaze on him. "What is your dumbass doing ?"
"M-meditating," he replied. Okay. Lame. Even Zoro wouldn't fall for that.
The silence between them stretched for too long, and it forced Sanji's eyes back opened. Zoro was looking at him with a very unimpressed expression. "Let's just go to bed, shall we ?"
As he said that, Sanji turned Zoro by the shoulders and pushed his back towards the door. Zoro grunted, but he let himself be guided out. The fresh air on the deck hit Sanji's face when they got out, and it felt like it calmed the throbbing in his nose. He sighed in relief, letting go of Zoro to reach for one of his cigarettes.
Apparently, Zoro had different plans for him.
It started by a small hiccup. Zoro easily blocked it with his knuckles to his lips. But it was followed by a forceful one. It bounced his belly so hard it untucked from the pajama pants. "Uh, fuck-" Zoro defeatedly said, before unleashing three huge gurgly burps back to back. His hand fell to the side of his gut as he did, and he couldn't do anything but to push them out.
"Shit," he said with a sigh of relief, cleaning the bits of saliva at the corner of his lips. "Scue me, cook."
Unfortunately, it was too late for apologies. Sanji's eyes were locked on the swordsman, lips parted. He didn't have to worry about a nose bleed anymore, all his blood has been transfered down in his pants. Zoro has the audacity to jiggle his fat softly in a comforting manner once the burps out, and the cook was feeling faint.
"Are you still meditating ?" Zoro deadpanned. But Sanji didn't think he was coming back from this one. No blood was currently nourishing his brain. In another words, he was dumbstruck.
As a stupid person would, his hands began reaching. One of them lifted his shirts, leaving it to stay above the dome of his bloat. He let his palms caress his belly. Index finger drawing gentle circles, leaving his nail to scratch at the stretch marks impossibly softly. His thumbs were busy burrying themselves under his stomach, feeling how rock hard it was with all the food. He took a short break from caressing to squeeze at that big roll Zoro had on each of his sides. It was warm, surprisingly soft too.
He felt Zoro hum against his palms and his eyes flew to the swordsman's face. He looked dazed, eye half closed and glassy. "Feels good," he murmurred, voice so low it might as well have been a purr. Sanji noticed he had taken a step towards him, leaning fully into the touch of his hands.
Oh. Sanji thought. He's liking this.
A few of his braincells recovered. Gently but confidently, his hands guided Zoro even closer. He drew his thumbs under his stomach again, and applied pressure. Zoro hiccuped hardly, belly swallowing his greedy fingers as it bounced forward. "Not so sharp," he asked. He sounded more asleep than awake, but Sanji heard his words nonetheless. Softer this time, he moved up and pressed.
It was apparently a successful spot. Zoro belched gutturally, so long only another hiccup stopped it. "Fuck, that's hot," Sanji whispered. He wanted more. He was finally drawing out the sexiest noises he has ever heard, but he needed much more. "Louder," he demanded, pushing his thumbs in a similar manner.
Zoro burped again, but this time in his cheeks. It sounded more like a soft huff than anything. "If you want louder I need to drink something," Zoro thoughtfully said. "Meal was good, but it was a while ago."
Sanji pouted. He went back to massaging the swordsman's gut, seriously considering his words. It was getting really late now. But Zoro was finally indulging him and he couldn't let the occasion go. "Would cheap beer work ?" He asked hopefully.
Zoro blinked a few times, as if he wasn't expecting Sanji to agree. "It's what works best, actually."
It didn't take long for Sanji to make Zoro comfortably sit in the galley's couch while he stripped the pantry of the remaining beers they bought long ago on a summer island. When he came back, Zoro was absentmindedly running a hand over his stomach. He looked content, almost as if he'd been waiting for this as long as Sanji did.
The cook placed the beers on the free spot by Zoro's side. He himself sat on a tool, before drawing it close. "Move," he indicated, tapping gently on Zoro's ankle for him to spread his legs. The swordsman did, and Sanji sad right in between, hands ready for the belly rubs.
"Huh," Zoro said, his good mood seemingly only improved. Without waiting any further, he popped the first bottle open and chugged its content in one, long and powerful go. Sanji's eyes widened as he watched the empty drink be tossed aside, and a next one immediately grabbed.
Zoro's adam apple worked hard to gobble the next drink down. The fuzziness mixed with the speed of his drinking worked magic. His belly was bloating again, now inflating slightly sideways as the front was already at its utter limits. Zoro hiccuped hard after the second drink, and it transformed in a series of equally forceful ones. "Now is your moment," he said between two belly bounces.
Carefully, Sanji reached to feel Zoro's warm gut against his plams for the second time for the evening. It was gurgling angrily, probably eager to force some gas out to make room, but Zoro was apparently purposely keeping them down, most likely for the bloat to be more agressive. In an attempt to soothe the hiccuping down, he massaged with the hill of his palms.
"Woo, fuck," Zoro said as his eye unfocused. "That feels nice. Keep going mister cook."
As the third drink got chugged, Sanji swore he actually felt Zoro's gut expend against his palms. It was swallowing most of his laps now, the lowest part of the hang touching the sofa's mattress in between them.
Third bottle got tossed aside, and Sanji felt the gurgles go crazier. The swordsman looked something akin to a dizziness. But not amount of focus could have blocked the series of explosive burps that forced themselves out of his lips. They each contracted his belly, which enhanced the roundness of his bloat further, and Sanji was going to go insane. Once storm was over, Zoro sank further into the couch. "Feels good," he slurred with his eyes closed.
Feeling daring thanks to everything that happened within the last hour, Sanji leaned in to place a soft peck to Zoro's overworked belly. The swordsman raised an eyebrow at this. "Don't act like it's over," he scoffed. "I'm finishing these."
Under Sanji's utter disbelief, Zoro popped open the next bottle and drew it to his lips. There were seven bottles in total, which disappeared at the speed of light. Sanji could only do so much but follow Zoro's each and every move, absolutely mesmerized. The gut in between them grew to look like one comical and solid ball. The cook was drawing his fingers around the other man's belly button, worried of how stretched the skin around it looked, almost as if it was gonna pop.
Zoro started satisfyingly patting the side of his gut, loudly burping whenever his troubled breathing was allowing him to. He had a proper flush going over his cheeks, and Sanji suspected the swordsman was wasted. His childish whine when Sanji told him to get up was the confirmation.
"But cook- GHUUURP- I'm too fat to get up," he complained, swatting the blonde's hand away. "I want to sleep here."
That last sentence was so slurred, Sanji wasn't sure he had heard it right. "Don't be ridiculous, Zoro, you're gonna feel much better in your own bunk."
He laced his fingers with the swordsman's once more, and without giving the other time to process, pulled towards him. It somehow got Zoro to his feet immediately, Sanji only needing to stabilize his swaying.
Zoro was a gassy mess. Getting up pulled the food and the beer down towards the bottom of his stomach, and he was burping every other breath.
"Pretty sure I'm- BUARP ! too heavy for my bunk," Zoro said, and it was the first lucid thing he'd observed in a minute. As the swordsman threw his head back for yet another uncontrollable belch, Sanji took a good look at the obese man before him. He probably couldn't lift him if he wanted to. What had Chopper said the other day again ? 725 lbs ? In his state, with the several pouds of food and liquid added to him, he was probably 740lbs.
Fuuuck it's so hot.
Sanji freed one of his hands to rub at his temple. The crew was already troubled enough for Zoro's obesity, he felt bad to let the swordsman expose his state that way. But breaking Zoro's bunk because it couldn't handle how fat he was sounded infinitely worse. "Fine then," he said through gritted teeth. "You can sleep here."
To his surprise, Zoro shook his head. "I'm up now," he said. "Let's sleep together,"
Sanji could have banged his head against a wall. The swordsman was drunk, he couldn't read between the lines but gosh he would wonder his whole life if the swordsman had meant the implications.
It was to avoid one of Zoro's drunk tantrum that they ended up on the aquarium's couch. This one was much bigger than the galley's allowing for Zoro to comfortably settle his big body on it. Sanji only sat on the edge of it, by Zoro's hip. He was lulling the swordsman to sleep, either by stroking his hair, or occasionally moving down to give his gut soft pats. It didn't take long for the swordsman's horrendous snoring to fill the room.
The drunkard now passed out, Sanji was left alone to his thoughts. More particularly, one thought.
What the hell was that ?
He hid his hand in his palms, replaying the way Zoro was leaning into his touch, how he'd let him caress and pamper his body without so much of a complain. Hell, he was clearly enjoying it.
Too exhausted by the impossibly late hour, and too confused by how the evening had played out, Sanji opted for a run away. He leaned in, and after a brief hesitation, kissed Zoro's belly again.
The second after, he flew.