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chibi_trillianHa! I got someone else to write SmoZeff! *happy butt dance* I am a Typhoid Mary of weird shippiness!
This is actually turning into an honest-to-gods multichapter story. I can't say that, though--it guarantees a stallout.
Title: Acquired Taste, Chapter Three: Contact
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Zeff/Smoker. Our trip on the One Piece Wayback Machine continues. Smoker has caught himself a Zeff, and the Zeff in question isn't entirely pleased about it. And yes, you crazy SmoAce fans, there's foreshadowing in this.
Smoker had never done a full-body smoke bind on someone he was attracted to before. It was definitely different from practicing with pells and with the handful of other cadets who would allow him to exercise his “curse” on them.
It was touching every inch of someone’s body with every inch of yours at the same time. It was being so close to someone that you felt if you just pushed a little farther you’d get inside their skin. It was knowing everything about someone’s body and the way they moved all at once, crammed into your brain so fast that it verged on sensory overload. It was a kiss and a blowjob and sex in one intoxicating blend. It was…
It was about to suffocate this poor guy, and Smoker wasn’t into necrophilia. Some part of his brain groaned frustration at having to stop, even as Smoker pulled his prey into an alley and deposited him on the cobbles so he could get some air. As the blond man started to turn a more reassuring shade than the blue he’d been sporting, Smoker thought that he’d just discovered a new ultimate fantasy—finding someone he could molest in Logia form without having to worry about hurting them. He doubted such a person existed, but a man could dream.
Reality, however, meant that Smoker needed to get himself settled down enough to solidify. It took him a minute, but he managed to force himself into his normal human form, seated on the street next to his mystery man. His flesh and blood felt unbearably heavy for a moment, but he was used to that. What he wasn’t used to was managing to come out of Logia form with a boner. He dropped his hands into his lap in what he hoped was a natural manner. If Hina could see him now, he’d never have heard the end of it.
He got himself situated just in time. Blondie was starting to wake up.
****
Zeff opened his eyes and noticed that the afterlife looked surprisingly like a dirty back alley.
It also had a Marinelet in it. He decided that he’d probably gone to Hell.
Fortunately, being in Hell didn’t mean he couldn’t express his displeasure with his manner of leaving the last world on the nearest available target, who happened to sitting with his hands in his lap and giving him a weirdly penetrating look. Zeff whipped his legs up, rolling his body into a shoulder-stand and nailing the grey-haired boy right in the nose. He expected to hear the satisfying crunch of bone breaking followed by the wet, hollow thud of a head hitting a brick wall.
He was not expecting his foot to connect with said brick wall without passing through the intermediary of a Marine skull. Smoke wisped around his foot and the Marine leaned far enough forward that he could reform the upper third of his body. The boy’s cigar hadn’t budged an inch, and now he was fucking smiling of all things.
Shit. This boy…this strange boy…was one of the cursed people. He’d eaten a Devil Fruit, taken a demon’s curse into his body, been granted strange powers in exchange for the eternal wrath of the sea. And he had Zeff at his mercy.
He had to still be alive. Not even Hell would be this unfair.
Zeff swiped his other leg through the Marine cadet, causing him to fog into smoke again, then quickly flipped himself onto his feet and ran. Ran like his life depended on it, because it probably did.
He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting the thick snake of semisolid smoke to snag him by the waist almost immediately and then proceed to resist his best attempts to kick free. For his violent struggles, he was promptly slammed into the wall. It knocked the wind out of him and bruised his shoulder, but at least his hands were okay and nothing seemed broken.
Dammit, fuck this. He’d take getting arrested by normal Marines over being the toy of this grudge-bearing hell-cadet. There was a good chance…all right, an okay chance that his crewmates would bust him out of jail. Zeff opened his mouth to shout for help…
And had another one clamped over it. He was suddenly being pressed into a grubby alley wall by a warm, solid body with a mouth that tasted so strongly of tobacco that Zeff was getting a contact nicotine high and powerful hands that were holding his own valuable ones hostage. He was trapped by someone who could kill him without having to expend too much effort, but seemed far more interested in keeping him alive.
Zeff was so utterly disoriented by this weird turn of events that when the Marine finally pulled away, he blurted out the first thing to cross his addled brain.
“You taste like shit.”
Chapter Four: Simmer
Chapter Two: Not a Good Night
Title: Acquired Taste, Chapter Three: Contact
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Zeff/Smoker. Our trip on the One Piece Wayback Machine continues. Smoker has caught himself a Zeff, and the Zeff in question isn't entirely pleased about it. And yes, you crazy SmoAce fans, there's foreshadowing in this.
Smoker had never done a full-body smoke bind on someone he was attracted to before. It was definitely different from practicing with pells and with the handful of other cadets who would allow him to exercise his “curse” on them.
It was touching every inch of someone’s body with every inch of yours at the same time. It was being so close to someone that you felt if you just pushed a little farther you’d get inside their skin. It was knowing everything about someone’s body and the way they moved all at once, crammed into your brain so fast that it verged on sensory overload. It was a kiss and a blowjob and sex in one intoxicating blend. It was…
It was about to suffocate this poor guy, and Smoker wasn’t into necrophilia. Some part of his brain groaned frustration at having to stop, even as Smoker pulled his prey into an alley and deposited him on the cobbles so he could get some air. As the blond man started to turn a more reassuring shade than the blue he’d been sporting, Smoker thought that he’d just discovered a new ultimate fantasy—finding someone he could molest in Logia form without having to worry about hurting them. He doubted such a person existed, but a man could dream.
Reality, however, meant that Smoker needed to get himself settled down enough to solidify. It took him a minute, but he managed to force himself into his normal human form, seated on the street next to his mystery man. His flesh and blood felt unbearably heavy for a moment, but he was used to that. What he wasn’t used to was managing to come out of Logia form with a boner. He dropped his hands into his lap in what he hoped was a natural manner. If Hina could see him now, he’d never have heard the end of it.
He got himself situated just in time. Blondie was starting to wake up.
****
Zeff opened his eyes and noticed that the afterlife looked surprisingly like a dirty back alley.
It also had a Marinelet in it. He decided that he’d probably gone to Hell.
Fortunately, being in Hell didn’t mean he couldn’t express his displeasure with his manner of leaving the last world on the nearest available target, who happened to sitting with his hands in his lap and giving him a weirdly penetrating look. Zeff whipped his legs up, rolling his body into a shoulder-stand and nailing the grey-haired boy right in the nose. He expected to hear the satisfying crunch of bone breaking followed by the wet, hollow thud of a head hitting a brick wall.
He was not expecting his foot to connect with said brick wall without passing through the intermediary of a Marine skull. Smoke wisped around his foot and the Marine leaned far enough forward that he could reform the upper third of his body. The boy’s cigar hadn’t budged an inch, and now he was fucking smiling of all things.
Shit. This boy…this strange boy…was one of the cursed people. He’d eaten a Devil Fruit, taken a demon’s curse into his body, been granted strange powers in exchange for the eternal wrath of the sea. And he had Zeff at his mercy.
He had to still be alive. Not even Hell would be this unfair.
Zeff swiped his other leg through the Marine cadet, causing him to fog into smoke again, then quickly flipped himself onto his feet and ran. Ran like his life depended on it, because it probably did.
He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting the thick snake of semisolid smoke to snag him by the waist almost immediately and then proceed to resist his best attempts to kick free. For his violent struggles, he was promptly slammed into the wall. It knocked the wind out of him and bruised his shoulder, but at least his hands were okay and nothing seemed broken.
Dammit, fuck this. He’d take getting arrested by normal Marines over being the toy of this grudge-bearing hell-cadet. There was a good chance…all right, an okay chance that his crewmates would bust him out of jail. Zeff opened his mouth to shout for help…
And had another one clamped over it. He was suddenly being pressed into a grubby alley wall by a warm, solid body with a mouth that tasted so strongly of tobacco that Zeff was getting a contact nicotine high and powerful hands that were holding his own valuable ones hostage. He was trapped by someone who could kill him without having to expend too much effort, but seemed far more interested in keeping him alive.
Zeff was so utterly disoriented by this weird turn of events that when the Marine finally pulled away, he blurted out the first thing to cross his addled brain.
“You taste like shit.”
Chapter Four: Simmer
Chapter Two: Not a Good Night
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Date: 2006-03-02 06:21 pm (UTC)The really entertaining thing is that I'm trying to write this as canon-viable and in-character as possible. How it turns out will determine whether it gets cross-posted to OPCrack or OPY when this little series is finished. ^.^;