The sun shone like a disk of polished gold in the clear, blue sky. The Grand Line shimmered beneath its bright rays. It was an inspirational sight, one that Franky would normally put into a new song, but the clamor below kept distracting him from his composition. Leaning his forearms on the open windowsill, the breeze ruffled his hair as he leaned outside to see what was going on.
Stretched out on a towel on the deck lawn directly below the crow’s nest, Nami lay sunbathing in a green bikini three sizes too small. Franky wiped the steam off his sunglasses with the hem of his blue floral shirt before slipping them back on his nose. He dragged his gaze from the tempting view and spotted the other lady on board who made his soda bubble. Robin sat with her shapely legs outstretched beneath the shade of the tree. She had her nose in a book, something Franky was getting used to seeing. He was also getting used to seeing extra sets of limbs sprouting from surfaces, like the arm extending from the trunk of the tree to push Chopper on the swing. Chopper’s delighted cries of “Higher! Higher!” floated up to him.
One of these days, Franky might have to invite Robin or Nami down to his workshop to see his blueprints, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be taken up on his offer, or slapped. It hadn’t been long since he’d teamed up with the Straw Hat crew and he was still finding his footing. He hadn’t decided yet if he liked them or if they were all insane. Probably both.
He appreciated strong fighters, though, and these guys were all strong, especially the two causing the distracting racket in front of the galley. Zoro had his three swords out and was earnestly battling with Sanji on the upper aft decks. He blocked a drop kick with the juncture of his blades and swung in retaliation. Sanji back-sprang out of reach, but not before kicking the underside of Zoro’s chin. Zoro’s head snapped up and he looked to be in pain – and enjoying it.
Franky shook his head. “Cra~a~azy.” A glance at the others showed they didn’t seem to care that Zoro and Sanji were fighting like they wanted to injure each other, or the Sunny. Franky’s eyes narrowed. He’d crack their skulls if they damaged the ship.
Zoro charged Sanji like a demented bull. Sanji somehow used the outer galley wall as a running board, meeting the charge with a side-kick that sent Zoro flying. Nami rolled over on her stomach as Zoro’s shadow passed over her. Franky jogged to the opposite window of the crow’s nest and saw Luffy, seated on the Sunny’s figurehead, stretch out an arm and catch Zoro before he sailed overboard. Sitting on the steps behind Luffy, whittling a length of wood, Usopp lowered his targeting goggles, said something over his shoulder, and Luffy flung Zoro back the way he came.
Franky was mildly amused by the way Zoro extended his arms in front of him, like a flying bladed bullet. Returning to the other window, Franky cast a quick glance over the Grand Line, to ensure no ships were approaching the Sunny. He frowned when he caught a flash. He fetched the binoculars, pushed his sunglasses up, and focused out over the water. The fighting quieted below as Franky watched and waited.
He caught the flash again finally and chuckled to himself. It was nothing but a jumping fish, its silvery scales reflecting the sunlight. He made a slow pass with the binoculars over the sea. Satisfied the Sunny remained alone, he lowered the binoculars and leaned once more against the windowsill.
Chopper’s laughter drifted on the breeze. Nami kicked her feet lazily back and forth in the air. Zoro and Sanji had disappeared. Franky raised the binoculars again, checking to see that they hadn’t gone overboard in their fighting. When he didn’t spot them, he turned the binoculars towards the galley porthole. He debated calling down to find out if they’d gone inside – he wasn’t familiar enough with habits yet to know whether or not to raise an alarm.
He tilted the binoculars up, scanning the upper deck in case they were still outside. He found Zoro’s katanas first, leaning against the main mast. He should’ve stopped looking then, knowing that Zoro wouldn’t have parted involuntarily with his swords. But he didn’t, and man he did not know that Zoro and Sanji were like that.
Franky whistled. Around the curve of the main mast, poorly hidden by the mikan trees, Zoro groped Sanji’s ass as they kissed fervently. For all their arguing and fighting, Franky wouldn’t have bet there was any romance involved. Then again, by the way they were devouring each other’s mouths it might just be another weird type of combat for them.
Franky adjusted the focus of the binoculars and propped his elbows on the windowsill. Kneeling facing each other, Zoro and Sanji were locked in a passionate clinch that didn’t appear to be letting up any time soon. Franky wondered how long the two of them had been doing that sort of thing. By the lack of reaction from the others at the sudden drop in battle noise, Franky would guess long enough for it not to be a surprise.
Zoro’s groping of Sanji’s backside became groping of Sanji’s frontside, and Franky thought there might be a song in this. “Among the fiercest pirates are a certain two. Fighting and fucking is what they do. Yeow!”
Franky worked on his new arrangement, watching unabashedly as Zoro and Sanji jerked each other off. The pups had no stamina. They were done before Franky had gotten to the bridge. It was too bad, they were good inspiration. Wicked odes were popular amongst pirate crews and since Franky was a part of one now, he needed to build up his material to entertain them.
“Just when you thought the fighting was done, they’d found another way to fight using tongues—eh? What’s this?” Franky’s eyebrows rose as Zoro pillowed his head on Sanji’s lap. Sanji leaned against the main mast, legs outstretched, smoking a cigarette. He looked down at Zoro and said something. Zoro said something in return and grinned broadly. Sanji’s answering smile made Franky curse.
Here he’d been writing a dirty ditty when he should’ve been writing a love song.
Franky put down the binoculars and shrugged. “Oh well.” He turned his attention back to the sea and his watch. He should try to have the composition ready for after dinner tonight. Maybe once he’d performed it, he’d lose the last of his reservations and really feel like one of the Straw Hat crew.
“It’s not the gleam of steel or the devil in his eyes. It’s the way he moves when he’s between Sanji’s thighs…”