Title: Fit To Be
Pairing: HelZo
Rating: R for OOC.
Wordcount: 400 (while on topic, this monstrosity wouldn't have a shot at the prize anyway, so I didn't bother hacking it down.)
Much wrongness. In a sexed up OP-verse why should Sanji get all the fun of being a slut?
There'd be no doubts after tonight. After this night even his father couldn't deny he was a man. Just capturing the pirate hunter hadn't been enough, but this would show him.
In confident darkness he made his uneven way across the yard. Then Roronoa's head came up, open eyes obsidian shards glittering in the moonlight, and most of the liquid courage from his father's whiskey evaporated out his ears. Really, this late, after four days with no food, the man could have the decency to be asleep--
He gathered the last dribbles of bravado. Awake, maybe, but still captured. Beaten, the bruises black splotches, his three swords out of reach, and his arms tightly lashed to the post. In four days he'd been unable to free himself from those cords.
"I still could kick," Roronoa pointed out, quietly, quite casually.
Helmeppo jumped, then drew himself up. "You know what'll happen to that lady barkeep if you do." He smirked nastily, before he lost his nerve stepped close enough to feel the heat radiating from those tensed, taut muscles. "Don't worry, you'll survive." He grabbed the swordsman's rough chin, wrenched his head down. "One month, right?"
Roronoa didn't try to kick, just rumbled, thoughtfully, "Hmm, but will you survive it?"
"I told you--"
"I mean, the embarassment, when the shrieking starts, and your men shine a spotlight on your pink ass, poking up in the air?"
"T-there won't be any shrieking. I'll gag you!"
"I wasn't talking about me," and Roronoa--didn't kick, didn't move his legs, just his--hips, so that wasn't his--boot--
The squeak from his tight throat echoed across the courtyard.
"Besides," Roronoa said, and--moved--again, but Helmeppo jumped out of range in time, "you've got me tied the wrong way round for...that."
He glanced up at the watchtower. No signs of an alert yet...
"Unless," Roronoa suggested, quietly, "one side's untied," and he--twisted his--body, against his--bonds--it occurred to him that as Roronoa hadn't tried to free himself before, those cords hadn't actually been tested yet. Though it was difficult to see if the swordsman had gotten loose, what with the dark, and the need to watch the ground so he wouldn't trip while sprinting.
Being hungover next morning, he didn't pay his prisoner the usual visit. He did order the ropes tripled, however. For the sake of his men's--safety.
Pairing: HelZo
Rating: R for OOC.
Wordcount: 400 (while on topic, this monstrosity wouldn't have a shot at the prize anyway, so I didn't bother hacking it down.)
Much wrongness. In a sexed up OP-verse why should Sanji get all the fun of being a slut?
There'd be no doubts after tonight. After this night even his father couldn't deny he was a man. Just capturing the pirate hunter hadn't been enough, but this would show him.
In confident darkness he made his uneven way across the yard. Then Roronoa's head came up, open eyes obsidian shards glittering in the moonlight, and most of the liquid courage from his father's whiskey evaporated out his ears. Really, this late, after four days with no food, the man could have the decency to be asleep--
He gathered the last dribbles of bravado. Awake, maybe, but still captured. Beaten, the bruises black splotches, his three swords out of reach, and his arms tightly lashed to the post. In four days he'd been unable to free himself from those cords.
"I still could kick," Roronoa pointed out, quietly, quite casually.
Helmeppo jumped, then drew himself up. "You know what'll happen to that lady barkeep if you do." He smirked nastily, before he lost his nerve stepped close enough to feel the heat radiating from those tensed, taut muscles. "Don't worry, you'll survive." He grabbed the swordsman's rough chin, wrenched his head down. "One month, right?"
Roronoa didn't try to kick, just rumbled, thoughtfully, "Hmm, but will you survive it?"
"I told you--"
"I mean, the embarassment, when the shrieking starts, and your men shine a spotlight on your pink ass, poking up in the air?"
"T-there won't be any shrieking. I'll gag you!"
"I wasn't talking about me," and Roronoa--didn't kick, didn't move his legs, just his--hips, so that wasn't his--boot--
The squeak from his tight throat echoed across the courtyard.
"Besides," Roronoa said, and--moved--again, but Helmeppo jumped out of range in time, "you've got me tied the wrong way round for...that."
He glanced up at the watchtower. No signs of an alert yet...
"Unless," Roronoa suggested, quietly, "one side's untied," and he--twisted his--body, against his--bonds--it occurred to him that as Roronoa hadn't tried to free himself before, those cords hadn't actually been tested yet. Though it was difficult to see if the swordsman had gotten loose, what with the dark, and the need to watch the ground so he wouldn't trip while sprinting.
Being hungover next morning, he didn't pay his prisoner the usual visit. He did order the ropes tripled, however. For the sake of his men's--safety.
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Date: 2005-01-10 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-01-11 03:35 pm (UTC)happy to, er, please..!
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Date: 2005-01-13 10:21 am (UTC)