Climb every mountain...
Feb. 25th, 2006 12:29 pmYay! I love this week's topic. It inspired me right away to give this tidbit a try. Hope you guys like it! ^_^
Title: Mountains
Rating: R
Pairing: Helmeppo ~> Zoro
Topic: Pirates and Marines
Word Count: 238
Disclaimer: If I owned One Piece, I'd be a man named Eiichiro Oda.
The fantasizing begins the moment they sit at their mountain of potatoes and start peeling. Helmeppo hates the chore, and daydreaming while applying steel to root lessens the stress just enough. He attacks the ones with suggestions of buds with particular vigor. Watching the severed green fall to the floor is almost enough to make him smile.
While the sun is up, the hazy daydreams are stuffed with imagined revenge or suitably altered memories. There he has a recollected taste of control in an environment that strips him of it completely. The same way that damned pirate hunter ripped him apart with his mocking eyes.
It isn’t until nightfall, when everyone but Koby is sensibly sleeping, that he can finally purge himself. In the dark of the washroom, blond hair sticking to his forehead and neck, his towel clenched between his teeth to muffle the cries, he can finally let imaginary fingers guide his own in the fast desperate dance to finish. Here he can let himself be ravished and helpless; here he almost feel an overheated wall of flesh at his back and hear that defiant, smirking voice in his ear.
And when it’s over, he sometimes feels a weird connection with the swordsman. Dry mouth, aching knees, heaving ribs, itchy sweat and dirt…the physical sensation is only reveled in for a moment. Sleep drags at him, and he has more mountains to face in the morning.
Title: Mountains
Rating: R
Pairing: Helmeppo ~> Zoro
Topic: Pirates and Marines
Word Count: 238
Disclaimer: If I owned One Piece, I'd be a man named Eiichiro Oda.
The fantasizing begins the moment they sit at their mountain of potatoes and start peeling. Helmeppo hates the chore, and daydreaming while applying steel to root lessens the stress just enough. He attacks the ones with suggestions of buds with particular vigor. Watching the severed green fall to the floor is almost enough to make him smile.
While the sun is up, the hazy daydreams are stuffed with imagined revenge or suitably altered memories. There he has a recollected taste of control in an environment that strips him of it completely. The same way that damned pirate hunter ripped him apart with his mocking eyes.
It isn’t until nightfall, when everyone but Koby is sensibly sleeping, that he can finally purge himself. In the dark of the washroom, blond hair sticking to his forehead and neck, his towel clenched between his teeth to muffle the cries, he can finally let imaginary fingers guide his own in the fast desperate dance to finish. Here he can let himself be ravished and helpless; here he almost feel an overheated wall of flesh at his back and hear that defiant, smirking voice in his ear.
And when it’s over, he sometimes feels a weird connection with the swordsman. Dry mouth, aching knees, heaving ribs, itchy sweat and dirt…the physical sensation is only reveled in for a moment. Sleep drags at him, and he has more mountains to face in the morning.
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Date: 2006-02-25 07:57 pm (UTC)Zoro: GAH! :bolted up wide awake and sweating:
Sanji:...nn? What the hell ~_\\ (Go back to sleep)
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