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It’s not that Sanji doesn’t care for Zoro; it’s that he knows he can take his kicks and still be fine. So he kicks. Aggravating him is the only way to touch him, so he lays the bait and accepts whatever comes his way.

Zoro knows this and that’s why he bothers to fight back. He knows Sanji’s behaviour towards women is just a front, and revels in the knowledge. But he won’t act until Sanji does first. Breaking him down slowly seems more fun.

To see the shitty cook get flustered.

Or maybe it’s because he would blush too.

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It seems like whenever he isn’t around, Zoro does something stupid.

Like trying to cut off his feet.

It annoys Sanji because he usually has to deal with it, though Zoro acts like he doesn’t need his help. More and more scars start to appear, causing him to wonder if Zoro is trying to look like a patchwork quilt.

He bitches about his dislike of them only when the others aren’t around. And lightly traces over them with his fingers only when everyone is asleep.

They’re the proof of Zoro’s strength, but he wishes that he didn’t have so many.

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Often, the shitty cook would make the same food for weeks on end whilst they were at sea. The others would sometimes complain and say they wanted to eat other things, and Zoro silently agreed with them, though he never said it aloud.

Right now, the food they had spent forever eating was squid – it appeared to be the only thing you could catch in this part of the Grand Line – and even Luffy was starting to complain. It seemed there were even things that Luffy did not want to eat. Zoro wanted to complain too, but he knew that it wouldn’t solve anything, so ate the meal in silence whilst cries of “Saaanjiiii…make me something else!” carried through the air.

Unfortunately even Nami and Robin were getting bored of the food too, as they poked at their meals and made small talk instead of eating them. Chopper and Usopp didn’t seem too happy either, and the atmosphere was obviously taking its toll on the cook.

Normally he would have just laughed or decided to make Sanji’s misery even worse, but he couldn’t right now. He had come to peek on the chef whilst he prepared the meals and knew he tried his best to use as many varied recipes as possible. But with their limited supplies and the next island being so far away, there was little he could do with the squid now to make it taste differently.

To be honest, Sanji seemed to be getting quite sick of the food himself, yet he always ate every scrap from his plate. It probably had something to do with his past, yet the blond always got defensive and angry when someone left some of their food.

Finishing the last bit, Zoro pushed his plate forward and asked for seconds.

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“I told you it was too small!”

“Shut up! They can’t see us, right?”

“No,” Sanji said sarcastically, leg sticking out of the wendyhouse’s window shutters in the most conspicuous way known to man. “They can’t see us at all.”

“Good.” Zoro replied, tugging at Sanji’s zipper. “I’m not going to stop now anyway.”

Wanting to kick him in the head, Sanji decided it was best to stay silent. There was no deterring the marimo now; his leg was trapped in the shitty window after all.

However, when the crew walked past sniggering, he did punch Zoro in the head.

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Sanji didn’t just kiss. No; nothing with the pervert-cook would ever be that simple, and not once had Zoro even attempted to convince himself otherwise. Most other people would just part their lips and kiss you carefully, but not Sanji.

He had to first lick around the outside of your lips like a cat, dipping his tongue teasingly between them just to piss you off. Then, when he would finally allow it a bit deeper, the blond would take total control, grasping the back of your head as he tasted every inch he could reach as if you were some sort of food.

And that was Zoro’s problem with the whole thing; he wasn’t goddamned food. Not for the cook, not for anybody! But he guessed that was where the issue had come from. He had seen the other man sampling the food he made for them countless times before, and knew that Sanji was treating him like a dish.

As for whether that was supposed to be flattering or not, he would never know. He’d far prefer to hurry along the process and have shorter kisses, yet there was no way he could think to tell that to Sanji.

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After sex, Sanji was oddly like a cat. He curled up next to Zoro’s side and spoke in a soft purr whilst nuzzling at his cheek in what was a kind-of sweet way. And he liked to be petted. He liked it when one of the swordsman’s warm hands would slide down his back to the slight curve of his hip, but especially enjoyed it when the tips of those fingers would rub behind his ears.

And on top of it all, his hair was as soft as anything. Zoro assumed it was all the care he took with it.

Sometimes the cook was not content to just lay about the whole time, and - like the cat he was certainly shaping up to be - tended to get bitchy if he was touched for too long. Minutes after the calming effect of his orgasm, Sanji would sit up and start to complain about where they had done it, or even just about boring every day things Zoro had no interest in. The blond’s mood pretty much changed with the wind, and yet he could always be counted on to lose his temper easily.

Not that Zoro minded, of course.

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To Zoro’s surprise, the cook was very possessive. Which he figured was strange, seeing as Sanji changed which woman he was in love with every time a new one came along. Despite the fact that every woman he came into contact with was not interested in him that way. In fact, the majority of them were out to kill him, but the dumb blond was too happy that he was getting attention to care about such trivial things.

In any case, Sanji’s possessive attitude towards Zoro was completely ridiculous. The swordsman only found it irritating. Whenever he talked to someone else, he could feel the piercing blue stare on him, causing him to sigh. It was as if the cook expected him to suddenly have sex with everyone he saw – something he would not put past Sanji – when there was no need.

Zoro had no interest in anyone else, particularly not their fellow crew members, though Sanji seemed to believe otherwise. He acted like Zoro was about to leave him any moment. And it was both cute and frustrating as the swordsman really wasn’t like that.

Sanji had yet to realise that, but Zoro was hoping he would sometime soon.

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The first time they had seen each other, they had been spooked. To see another with the same amount of limbs in this wilderness was quite strange, as they had never seen another one before. Curious, they had moved closer together, trying to circle the other and get some bearing on what exactly they were looking at. It had almost come as a shock when they realised they were both so different, and yet so alike.

They were both male, quite tall and easily angered. They liked their personal space and didn’t hesitate to defend it. Both had large, fluffy ears and a tail sprouting from their spine, as well as whiskers growing from their cheeks. But even those similarities were different. The blond’s tail was far bushier, and looked more comfortable to sleep on, whereas the green-haired man’s own was quite long and thin. The ears were also bigger, and they made the pretty face look even smaller than it was.

In comparison, the tiger was more masculine, but they both had animal instinct; and that was why they often fought each other before tumbling around in the grass in a far more intimate way.

To them, it was pretty much a normal thing, though if anyone of their species saw them they would easily have been killed. But they didn’t know better; the two cubs that had been abandoned by their families had no one to teach them what was right and what was wrong. Besides, as long as no one saw them, they would be safe.

But as far how long they would continue unseen was a mystery. Many other animals lived in the woods, and not all of them would just sit idly by and observe.

However, when the time came, they would fight. And win.

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Watching the cook make dinner was one of the few things that Zoro truly enjoyed. The other things were obviously booze, fighting and sleeping. The reason he liked it so much was because he got to see two of his favourite things working together in unison; Sanji and blades.

And oh boy did the cook know how to use them.

With every expert chopping sound, Zoro felt his pants get tighter. His eyes travelled over the cook’s shoulders and down lower, to his bare forearms, the swordsman licking his lips as he spied the knives coming down perfectly. Fuck.

Sanji would have been a fucking pro with katanas, yet he had never even considered it. And that kinda pissed Zoro off, because it was pretty much a waste of talent. Imagining the cook with one or two swords was incredibly sexy, and he was tempted to walk up behind him right now just so he could get a faceful of blade. The look of annoyance he could easily picture on Sanji’s face as he forced Zoro back wasn’t helping, either. However, the blond only attacked with his legs, so it was out of the question anyway.

But Zoro could dream.

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Looking up at the blond teacher, Zoro couldn’t help but get excited. From the square glasses surrounding his deep blue eyes to the long legs that seemed to go on forever, this man was definitely his type. The way the blond hair completely covered half of his face was mysterious and alluring, and the green-haired teen couldn’t help but want to know what was underneath it. Even if it wasn’t hiding anything, Zoro knew he would feel special just gazing upon it.

For the rest of the day, the teen allowed his mind to wander back to the teacher, ignoring all his other lessons with a stupid grin on his face. He recalled the small details about him that he so loved; the strangely curled eyebrow and the sparse yet somehow full beard were oddly arousing no matter what way he looked at it.

The fact the teacher was a man didn’t bother him in the slightest. When someone was that hot, he couldn’t care less if they were male, female or both. All he cared about was getting them to notice him. The rest of what he wanted could carry on from there.

Sneaking out from his last lesson early, Zoro walked toward the room where he had met the teacher in the first place, seeing him through the window. The rest of the desks were empty, so he pushed the door open eagerly, grinning when he saw the look of surprise in his direction.

Ignoring the usual pleasantries, he strode over, bending down and kissing the teacher firmly on the mouth. When the blond jerked back, he just grasped his hair and tugged him back forward, kissing him as deeply as he could.

But a few moments later he was flying through the door from a rough kick.

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There was only one word Sanji could use to describe Zoro when they were having sex. And – unbelievably – it wasn’t shit. Which was weird, because Sanji absolutely loved the word, and Zoro didn’t seem to have any experience in bed. In any case, the word itself was ‘frantic’. The way the other man ripped at his clothes and pushed him up against whatever was around made it hard to think of a better one. The kisses that were pressed to his neck barely stayed at first, and the fumbling with his pants seemed to last forever under the swordsman’s fingers.

The guy could cut through steel with one swing, but undoing a pair of trousers seemed beyond him when he was in this state, all sweat and heat and swearwords as he towered over the cook. Barely. Somehow Sanji always managed to get caught up in his stupid pace, gripping at his shoulders and head while rocking back against him with all of his might.

Eventually they would get out of the clothes and fuck until they were both satisfied, panting on the floor – or wherever else they were – before Sanji would disentangle himself and stalk off. But after the romp, the swordsman would always revert to his almost stoic self and act as if nothing had happened at all. And the cook thought that was fine. He didn’t want the crew to know about their ‘nakama with benefits’ deal anyway.

It was far easier to get along if everyone stayed impartial with each other. Besides, he didn’t want anyone else to see the look on the swordsman’s face when he had finally pushed inside, or to hear the groan when he would orgasm.

Only Sanji got to see those things, and that was how he wanted it to stay.

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The world’s greatest cook deserved the world’s greatest swordsman.

They were a perfect match, and no one could disagree on that fact. From their looks to their personalities, they fit. Even as they bitched and fought with each other, the rest of the crew could tell it was more than they were letting on. Because, being honest, who would spend the majority of their time trying to piss off someone else unless they liked them? As far as the crew was concerned, the two nineteen year olds were courting each other as if they were children.

Because, of course, they made it seem that way. Sanji would say or do something, Zoro would comment on it, and then the next moment they’d be kicking and flinging swords about. They acted as if they hated each other, but it was the moments when they thought they were alone that gave them away. At least once, each individual crew member had walked around a corner to see them acting playful, or walked into a room to see them spring apart and start arguing.

The poor guys must have thought that they were being subtle, or that no one else knew. But unfortunately it was clear as day when you found them sharing a kiss, or when you heard the grunting coming from the galley in the dead of night with their bunks empty. Or even the rare times when they would just be doing everyday things, touching elbows or shoulders ever so slightly.

It was hard for the rest of the crew to keep quiet about it, too. Sometimes they just wanted to turn around and tease the hell out of them to see their reaction. Occasionally they would even make bets on who would catch them next or where the next secret meeting was going to take place, the crew constantly surprised by Luffy’s ability to just watch from the sidelines.

They would never have expected him to be so delicate about such a situation, especially not for this long. He just wasn’t that type of person. At first, he had insisted that it was none of his business and that he didn’t want to know, but over time he got sucked in as well. It just seemed that keeping track of them without them knowing was just too much fun.

The days at sea without excitement were long, after all.

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Everyone else on the ship had called it a ‘funny accident’.

Sanji called it ‘the worst’.

Damn those shitty stairs. With their shitty wood and shitty workmanship. Sure, Usopp had tried to fix the damn things a hundred times, but the third step down had to be slightly shorter than the rest so he lost his goddamn footing.

And Zoro had just had to be sleeping at the bottom of them. As if it was somehow normal to fall asleep anywhere in the way of the rest of the world.

When he’d fallen, he’d not only lost the tray of drinks, but also his dignity. Landing face-first into the marimo’s lap was not something that he found funny in the slightest. Especially when said marimo woke up and started yelling curses at him as if it was his damn fault Usopp couldn’t fix the ship for shit!

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the fresh drinks had fallen over them both, soaking them in places that looked entirely too suggestive for his liking. After the rest of the crew had finished laughing, he’d scowled and snuck off to get changed, but not before noticing how red Zoro’s face was.

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Zoro’s favourite place to fuck Sanji was definitely out under Nami’s tall mikan trees.

It was the place Sanji most disliked to do this sort of thing, so he was far more tense than usual, which in Zoro’s opinion was not a bad thing at all. The way the cook would tense at any sort of noise was rather blissful, and the swordsman liked it to the point that he would break twigs under his boots just to feel Sanji squeeze him deliciously tight in panic.

And luckily for him, the blond never realised he was doing it on purpose.

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Feeling Zoro’s hands trace patterns down his stomach, Sanji couldn’t help but go red as the other man murmured stupid things like ‘happy anniversary’ into his ear. Situated between Zoro’s legs but facing away, he felt incredibly embarrassed by the hardness pushing against the seat of his pants.

Tilting his head back and letting out a sigh, he shuddered when warm lips brushed his ear, the phrase being mumbled again as the idiot shoved his hand down his pants. As the hand wrapped around him, Sanji let out a gasp, grabbing onto Zoro’s thighs as he started to get close.

“Say it,” Zoro murmured, letting go without warning. “And I’ll continue.” Feeling trapped by the demand, Sanji reached down to try and touch himself, groaning when Zoro grasped his wrist and pulled it behind his back, keeping him at bay. “Come on.”

Still being stubborn, Sanji bit onto his bottom lip, determined not to say it. He didn’t want to think about the fact that they’d been ‘together’ for a year, didn’t want to think about the women he had come into contact with and failed at wooing. But he had little choice; his cock was throbbing like mad and the body warming his back made him feel horny…

“Ha-Happy anniversary, shithead.” He grumbled, a little surprised Zoro even remembered the date, let alone gave a shit about how long they’d been getting into each other’s pants. But he’d never pretended to understand the stupid swordsman in the first place, so why should he have started now?

Feeling Zoro smirk against his skin, he gasped as the hand grasped him again, moving a lot more firmly than before. Crying out in orgasm, he was surprised when Zoro pulled back, shoving one of Sanji’s hands into his own pants.

“Your turn.”

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With a crew of nine people, there were a lot of dietary things to keep in mind when making them meals. Like any allergies or foods the crew disliked. Then there was remembering who exactly was allergic to what, and it was this that made Sanji’s life difficult.

Then there were times when certain members hated one thing that the others ate happily. This was what pissed off Sanji the most. As far as he was concerned, food was food, and if it was on your plate, you should damn well eat it. If you didn’t have the decency to say you disliked it beforehand or offer it to anyone else during the meal, then it was yours. And if you didn’t eat it, Sanji wouldn’t stand for it.

Someone had made that mistake today. A certain green-haired sword-wielding someone.

Hell, the guy could eat squid meals for weeks on end, but the second you put a broccoli floret in front of him Zoro was crossing his arms or ignoring the fact it even existed. He wasn’t even looking at the plate anymore, nor at any of the people around the table, ignoring any kind of pointed remark anyone made. Losing his patience, Sanji got to his feet, resisting the urge to kick the table onto the jackass.

“What? Too close to your own species, marimo?” Lips curling into a smirk, Sanji watched the agitated look on Zoro’s face grow, the swordsman incredibly pissed off with him. The rest of the crew went silent before realising the stand off, politely excusing themselves through the door and leaving them both alone. “Even Luffy ate it.” Sanji said calmly, staring at Zoro across the table as if he were just a kid. “So you’re gonna eat it, moron. No complaints.”

A few moments passed and still Zoro did nothing. He didn’t pick up his fork, look at the cook or even give back some sort of retort, causing the blond to scowl at the suspicious behaviour. Just as he was about to lose his temper, Zoro scratched at the back of his head, mumbling.

“Make me eat it if you can, shit-cook.” Taking the challenge, Sanji slipped around the table to face Zoro, tugging the chair out slowly, despite the swordsman’s weight. Straddling his lap before he could react, Sanji pressed the broccoli through Zoro’s lips, smirking as Zoro chewed.

His win.

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Zoro often wondered why Sanji’s fringe was so long on one side. It certainly was a weird feature about the cook – though arguably the curled eyebrow was far stranger – so he couldn’t help but think about it, especially when it brushed over his cheek so softly whenever they kissed.

A lot of the time, he wanted to just tug it up out of the way so they could have proper eye contact for once, but the hair seemed permanently plastered to Sanji’s face. It moved so fluidly until it was about to be moved, and Zoro found that weird. The damn thing acted as if it had a life of its own, like it was on the defensive every minute of the day. And the more it lingered, the more he wanted to push it out of the way and gaze into Sanji’s other, unused eye.

But the swordsman was more than aware that it was never going to happen. He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever seen that side of the cook’s face, even when he was asleep. And if it clung in sleep, it was suitable to assume it would never move.

But that was alright.

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Reaching down to grasp the foot securely in his hand, Zoro looked over Sanji’s sweating body with a bit of pride. The cook’s hands were pressed against his face to try and hide its redness even as he trembled; his body giving away what expression he’d be holding. Despite Sanji’s greatest efforts, Zoro always knew – or at least had a fairly good idea – what the blond’s face would look like when he touched any of the lower parts of his body.

For his fighting style, Sanji was surprisingly sensitive when it came to his legs, and Zoro used this knowledge entirely to his advantage, straying hands gently over the soft skin whenever the cook seemed like he was going to fight back. Somehow just that simple touch was enough to make Sanji cry out and bury his face in whatever was closest, stopping any complaints he may have had.

Whenever the swordsman did something he particularly liked, the cook would try to block off his voice; not wanting the others to find them, though Zoro himself didn’t care either way. As long as they didn’t move in on his territory, they could look and know all they liked. Not that he particularly wished for them to see – because Sanji was his dammit, and only he should be able to gaze upon all the nooks and crannies of his lean body – but having them aware of it could only be a good idea. At least in Zoro’s mind; he was definitely sure the blond thought differently on the matter.

In any case, all he wanted right now was to ravish the cook to the point where Sanji would say his name and regret it later. So he lifted the foot to his mouth and started to lick over the toes, smirking when the blond pushed at his head and whined. Ignoring his complaints, he took one into his mouth, massaging the rest of his foot with his hands even as Sanji squirmed and tried to pull it out of his grip.

He hadn’t received a kick to the face yet, so he was going to assume it was alright.

Chuckling, he moved to lap over the cook’s ankle, looking up at him cheekily. The look of pleasure and shame on Sanji’s face was too fucking hot. Crawling up the cook’s body, he pushed himself between his thighs, kissing his lips softly.

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Sitting across the blond over the galley table, Zoro observed the book the cook was reading. At least, that’s what he pretended he was looking at. In reality, he was staring at the glasses adorning the foul-tempered man’s face, surprised by the fact he was using them for a practical use instead of just to look cool. Usually the cook would just wear them in danger situations, or maybe put on sunglasses to match his clothing choice, but not something like this. He didn’t know that the blond actually needed them.

It was quite strange, and he wondered if Sanji needed them for day-to-day and just wore them selectively, or if the glass was just normal, and it was all for aesthetics. And there was only one way to find out something like that…and it wasn’t by asking.

Leaning forward, he tugged the glasses from Sanji’s face, watching as the cook blinked and looked at him in annoyance, eyes not quite focused. At the gaze, Zoro flushed red, finding it incredibly close to the expression the blond made when he was filled with pleasure, hand going lax as Sanji snatched the glasses back off him, just scowling in response.

“The fuck are you doing, marimo?” Grumbling, the blond made a move to put them back on, stopped by the swordsman’s hand on his wrist, pulling them away again. Getting frustrated by the stupid behaviour, Sanji reached over to grab them, thinking Zoro was just trying to piss him off. And if he was, it was damn working. His eyes widened when Zoro tried to put them on instead, getting dizzy. Taking the glasses back off his face and settling into his seat once more, the cook raised an eyebrow as the swordsman got up, promptly walking into the doorframe. “Moron.”

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There were two things he had gained from their trip to the Baratie; his scar and Sanji.

One was a constant annoyance that aggravated him on a daily basis no matter how he moved, and the other was a wound that cut deep into his chest. He didn’t even know what he did to piss off the cook so much, but Sanji would always come stomping over, challenging him with even just one glance. The damn cook acted like Zoro’s mere presence was some sort of hindrance or danger to his well-being, or rather like a new male lion trying to square off against the alpha male.

Which was stupid, because everyone on the damn ship knew that Luffy was the guy in charge, so why did it have to be Zoro? If the shithead hated being second-best, it would make sense to take out the boss before anything else… At least, that was how Zoro felt about it. Whenever he’d had to beat groups of pirates for money, he usually went for the Captain first, as the crew would do his bidding if he won.

In any case, neither of the things that damned sea restaurant had given him were any good. The scar – whilst proof of his battle and a motivation to go further – only managed to make things more difficult for him as he went about his day, and Sanji… Well, there was a lot to say about that idiot.

There was only one decent thing about him, Zoro thought. And that was his cooking. It was infinitely better than the things Luffy had conjured, and his own messy attempts. Usopp hadn’t been too bad, but he only knew a small range of things that they quickly became bored of. And all this was why the rest of the crew had warmed up to him so easily. The guy could cook. Nami was happy with it too, so he just put up with all of the guy’s crap, though all he really wanted to do with cut the guy’s pretty head off.

Because, dammit, no one should be that annoying!

But when the cook did things like help him clean off and change his bandages, there was little that he could criticise. The touch Sanji used was gentle but firm, and the smirk on his face as he did it was…almost pleasant.

He still hated him though.

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It seemed that every single crew member had their own internal body clock that alerted them when it was breakfast time. And after the first few times of Luffy barrelling through the galley door to see him with his pants around his ankles, Sanji had become more wary. His own body clock was different than theirs; his stomach never alerted him in the way that anyone else’s did, so he ended up having to stare at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately that was the least sexy thing to look at, and it always made him feel uncomfortable knowing he was on a timer, causing him to just stop doing it.

Then the damned swordsman had decided he wanted a piece of Sanji’s ass every now and then, the cook finding himself pushed up against walls and surfaces more often than a bed. And Zoro always seemed to want him just before breakfast would be ready. Over time, he slowly began to get used to hands rubbing over his body whilst he tried to attend to hot pans, shuddering as Zoro palmed his ass. Luckily the swordsman knew enough to refrain from putting it in until all the meals were dished up, flinging the cook onto the nearest empty surface before violently going at it.

They would always finish with just enough time to sort themselves out and make sure the food was alright before the others arrived, knowing looks on their faces. Without ever mentioning it, the rest of the crew would eat their breakfast and say their thanks; though he was sure they knew. They weren’t exactly quiet. The second the door closed, Zoro was on him again.

Sure, Sanji now had to reheat the food before everyone came down, but at least he wasn’t caught any more.

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Shoving Sanji out of the way, Zoro felt some satisfaction in seeing the blue rings land snugly around the blond’s torso, immobilising his arms. Ha. That would show the shitty cook not to get in his freaking way anymore.

However, the moron still decided it was time to kick at him, which he dodged by leaning backwards, a hand grabbing onto the cook’s ankle before he could right himself. Squeezing it painfully tightly in his hand, he swung his own foot out, knocking Sanji off his feet and onto his front, completely vulnerable without his hands. As the cook cursed, he let go of him and watched as he fell to the floor, chuckling at the sight of him so helpless.

For a few moments, he totally forgot their surroundings. Seeing Sanji’s ass wriggling about like that was incredibly pleasant, and he felt himself start to get hard as he realised just how helpless the blond was. In this position, he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to, and after all the build-up, Zoro was looking forward to yanking those black pants down and going at it right there.

So he did.

Then the ring settled around his neck.

Shit.

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Ever since he’d learned how Kuina had died, Zoro had subconsciously found himself watching people closely when they were walking down stairs. No matter who it was or how many stairs there were, he watched them like a hawk, paranoid they were going to fall at a moment’s notice. The second there would seem to be a problem, he would be ready to pounce forward and save them. He didn’t want to lose anyone else like that ever again.

Especially not one of his nakama. Over the few months with them, they had become more and more precious to him to the point that he wouldn’t want to carry on if any of them died. Of course he would never stop if it did happen, but the desire to just end everything there would be too strong for him. He’d probably lose his head and try to accomplish everything all at once so he could just get it over with.

There was one crew member he worried about more than the rest, and it was the damn cook. No one else almost constantly had their hands full with plates or glasses, nor tended to twirl as they did so. It was just him, and Zoro found it frustrating. Hell, the guy’s choice of hairstyle didn’t help ease Zoro’s worries either. The damn blond locks covering one of his eyes made Zoro more paranoid than he’d ever thought he’d be, even if the stupid cook had good control over his legs.

It seemed that every day, the swordsman was waiting for someone to trip and get hurt. As if every day was a test of his strength. And that was okay, as long as no one actually got harmed. But seeing someone die in an accident was definitely his biggest fear.

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The first time Sanji had sucked him off, he had not been expecting such a high level of skill.

The guy was obsessed with women to the point that it was painful for everyone else around him, so the sudden proficiency at blowjobs threw Zoro for a loop. So much so that it took him barely any time to cum, gripping Sanji’s hair tightly as he got it in his mouth and over his face. After recovering from the orgasm, he had watched with wide eyes as Sanji had licked at his lips and wiped at his cheeks with his hands, looking up at him innocently.

The cheeky smirks at him for the rest of the day were embarrassing to say the least, but Zoro had tried to ignore it. He didn’t want to let the blond be amused or think he was fast, but he couldn’t think of any sort of retort or explanation to give him. Hell, he couldn’t even think of a compliment for the guy (not that he would have complimented him even if he had one).

As Sanji smirked at him from across the deck, he decided he’d settle for fucking his brains out instead.

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Sanji was the type of guy that firmly believed a man should never hurt or touch a vulnerable woman without her permission. It just went against his honour. No matter what the circumstances, it was a despicable deed, and he would hate anyone that ever did it. Even the mere idea was enough to get him riled up, as it had been impounded into him in his childhood that women were beautiful, delicate, and that he should only ever do everything in his power to protect or help them.

That’s why he did his best to uphold what he had been taught, even when the women were his enemies. He just couldn’t see himself hurting one, even if she was beating the crap out of him. It just seemed wrong, no matter what way he looked at it. In fact, it practically disturbed him. To him, nothing would ever be worse.

It was a weakness; he knew that. And one day it could possibly cost him something precious. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But, as he looked over at a sleeping Zoro, he decided that taking advantage of vulnerable men wasn’t against his honour at all.

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Looking down at the sleeping blond next to him on the galley floor, Zoro wondered if their actions had tainted Sanji in any way.

After hearing him proudly flirt and be perverse about women, it was more than a little strange to picture the guy in bed with another man. But that was how it was; Zoro had chased after the cook until he had caught him and dragged him down to the floor where he had promptly stripped and deflowered him against the cool wood. Without complaint, Sanji had just accepted all of him, then softly fallen asleep, hand curled up against his face.

After a few moments of listening to his deep breaths, the swordsman had sat up and started watching him, a little ashamed for not having the sense to do it somewhere a little softer. No doubt they would both be covered in bruises the coming day after all of that… And as he watched him murmur and swallow in sleep, Zoro wondered if it was the best thing to do. Sanji would probably wake up refreshed and then stare at him in horror the next day, and the idea was somewhat painful. He didn’t want Sanji to hate him.

If it was something like that, there were definitely other ways to upset the cook than something this intimate and special – at least, to Zoro it was – like ‘accidentally’ tripping him up all the time. He could piss him off any time he wanted really, without having to do something like this. But what if Sanji took it the wrong way? Called him disgusting and told him to fuck off and stay away from him? Zoro wasn’t sure he could take that…

He didn’t sleep that whole night through his worrying, and was rewarded by a smiling cook wrapping his arms around his neck. As he had held him close and run his hands through the soft blond hair, Sanji had laughed softly and just let him do as he pleased. Relieved, Zoro had quietly confessed his worries, gripping tighter onto Sanji as if he were scared the cook would run away at any moment.

But Sanji had just continued to laugh, nuzzling against Zoro’s cheek affectionately while kissing at the earrings dangling from his left ear playfully, whispering into his ear with a smirk.

“Don’t worry marimo; there’s no way you could have tainted me.”

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The day Zoro had walked in on him masturbating had changed the way he spent his days on the ship forever. Instead of looking pissed off and storming out or making some sort of snide comment, the swordsman had just walked over and crouched next to him, staring intently. When he had stopped – who the fuck wouldn’t with that looming over them? – Zoro had glanced back up to his face, offering to finish the job off for him.

Stunned, he hadn’t even had the time to reply when Zoro’s calloused hand had moved his own out of the way and started to stroke him, Sanji too shocked to do anything but orgasm onto the well-practised hand. He’d felt mortified then, as the swordsman had leaned over and murmured to go to him whenever he needed to jack off in the future, his intentions unreadable as Zoro had left soon after.

For a while, Sanji had tried to ignore the proposal, not knowing what to do or say about it whatsoever. They were nakama, sure, and they should help each other out, but this…? Something told him that getting each other off wasn’t quite in that code of conduct. Yet as time wore on and the idea haunted him more, he found himself voluntarily going to Zoro for his ‘help’. He wasn’t even sure why, as each time the swordsman would do or say something stupid to him, and it seemed more hassle than he was willing to put up with. But the day he went to tell Zoro that, the swordsman had suddenly given him a blowjob, and there was not much he could say to that either.

Before he knew it, he had begun to reciprocate the feelings back – usually by hand, of course – whilst Zoro grew more and more adventurous, causing him to worry. He hadn’t necessarily agreed to having a finger up his ass at any point… Yet as it continued to feel good and his own hand felt less and less appealing, Sanji forgot when to say no.

After the first time Zoro had put something larger than a finger into him, he had realised the idiot’s feelings, far too late. Everything had clicked into place and Zoro’s strangely affectionate actions started making sense, causing Sanji to feel sick. He hadn’t meant to lead the other man on, but he couldn’t back out of it now.

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Sometimes fucking the swordsman was a real chore.

It wasn’t that the sex was bad; far from it, the sex was pretty damn good, actually, when he cared to admit it. Nor was it Zoro’s personality whilst they did the deed; unbelievably Zoro was well behaved at the time. It wasn’t about where they did it either, though Sanji sometimes would prefer to be somewhere near a bed when Zoro pounced. No, it was none of those things; they were all fine as far as he was concerned. In fact, it was pretty shocking to see how much Sanji was willing to put up with from that oaf, when he looked back on it.

But when he was trying to redress afterwards…that was when he lost his cool.

Time and time again he had come down from orgasm to find not only his clothes strewn all over the place – which would have been bearable, even – but his necktie jumbled up in a huge knot. For some reason, it was always the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, and it was getting on his nerves.

It was plainly obvious a long time ago that the swordsman did not know how to tie one, nor how to take one off, so he had taught the shitty bastard the correct way to do it, but to no avail. Then he had just told the idiot to leave it to him, but Zoro just didn’t listen, always finding some way to get to it before the thought crossed Sanji’s mind. And the blond wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he really was that dumb.

Either way, it was getting to the point where he’d had enough. He was sick and tired of fixing the same damn thing each time – which occurred at least once a day, if not more. If the moron wasn’t going to do it properly, then he wasn’t going to wear a goddamned tie at all! Fuck appearances for once; this was far more important! It didn’t matter if the rest of the crew would comment on it. Besides, he would still look irresistibly charming without a tie.

But after he stopped wearing a tie, when he woke up, it was something else. Nowadays, he found his belt twisted into random shapes, his eye twitching just from looking at the mess.

Rotten bastard.

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Zoro didn’t like it when Sanji smoked.

Sure, it made the cook look sexy, and gave him something to do with his hands when he wasn’t fighting, but that didn’t mean it was okay. Even if Sanji did smell particularly nice after a cigarette, or if his mouth had a unique flavour the swordsman was coming to enjoy, he shouldn’t be doing it. It was bad for him, and Zoro wanted him to stop. He smoked so damn much that the swordsman figured that it would be the smoking that would kill him later on. It was such a realistic possibility too that it was even worrying.

Yet he could not deny that he liked the way Sanji would purse his lips as he blew out streams of smoke, nor the sheer elegance that he seemed to radiate with a cigarette between his fingers. It was incredibly sexy, but there was no way he was ever going to admit that to the cook.

He had already tried to take the cigarettes from him before, only to find the cook smoking a different packet later on in the day. Sanji must have a secret stash of them somewhere, yet no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t find it. And that was frustrating, because it seemed like Sanji would never listen to him even if it was for his own good. It was even more annoying when the blond had agreed to give up in the first place.

As far as he could remember, Sanji always had a cigarette in his hand. The only time it seemed the cook wasn’t smoking was when they were fucking each other.

But, that was okay. As long as Sanji didn’t smoke then, he guessed he could accept the habit. Or just fuck him more.

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As the cook had kicked out at the boulders rushing toward them in just wedding gear and sandals, Zoro had realised it was time for him to take action too. Gripping on the floor of the corkscrew stairs, he tugged up with all his might and made the flat surface break into shards they could walk on. Rushing up the stairs faster, he watched almost in awe as Sanji kept lashing out with his legs, finding it a marvellous sight.

However, the blond quickly paid for his bravery. Pausing at the top of the staircase, every single one of them was out of breath and tired, but none as bad as the cook, whose feet were battered and broken from kicking the rocks away. At that moment, all he wanted to do was bend down and lick off the blood, cradling those strong limbs in his hands until all the pain had drained from them. But unfortunately there was no time for anything like that, as there were pressing matters that they had to attend to, such as getting back both their ship and Nami.

Besides, broken feet or no, Sanji would probably have kicked him in the face anyway.

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Sitting on the back of the moving animal, Zoro turned his attention to the scenery behind him. He’d climbed on just after the damn cook, the wind slapping against his chest feeling great and making him feel ready for battle. That moron who dared to call himself the strongest in the world better be prepared for the next time they met! After such a stupid comment, he was more than ready to test out that claim, his body almost singing in anticipation.

Just as he was getting pumped up, he felt a hand rest over his own, glancing to his left to see Sanji looking out at the scenery with him, a cigarette held between his teeth tightly. It was obvious from the way the cook was sitting that he was thinking the same thing; the ridiculous claim from that ugly guy was getting to him. Personally, Zoro disagreed with the man. If anyone was the world’s handsomest man, it had to be Sanji; it was just the cook being a complete dork that ruined the image. No one was going to admit that they liked him when they saw him slobbering at the sight of a bra, were they?

Glancing behind himself to double-check Usopp was still enthralled in his made-up image of the Animal King they were supposedly going to meet, Zoro kept his face impassive. It wouldn’t have been a good idea to let anyone notice the gentle touch he and the cook were sharing, and his facial expression would certainly be a clue if anyone was looking. Luckily, Nami was too preoccupied with being on her goat to notice either.

Twisting his hand, he brushed their fingers together lightly and looked back at the scenery. This peace wouldn’t last very long. Best to enjoy it now.

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Slamming his bare foot down hard onto the swordsman’s balls, the cook was surprised to see just how much the idiot liked it.

Hell, he’d expected Zoro to enjoy a little pain – all those injuries in fights certainly weren’t for nothing, as Zoro could have easily dodged – but to enjoy this was… Well, just watching it happen and knowing what exactly he was stamping on was almost enough for his own balls to start aching, so he couldn’t even fathom liking the feeling. To the blond, it was incredibly uncomfortable, but he found as long as he kept his eyes on the pained swordsman’s face it was a lot easier.

He’d heard about Pavlov’s dog, but this was pretty damn ridiculous. It was a surprise the swordsman didn’t have a boner during every fight.

But if Zoro was going to act like a dog, Sanji was definitely going to treat him like one; the leather collar and leash strapped around the marimo’s neck a testament to that statement. Grinding his foot down a little harder, he found himself aroused by the gasp coming from Zoro’s lips, tugging the leash to bring his head closer. The swordsman should make himself useful.

But even as he had Zoro exactly where he wanted him, he felt like he was the one on the leash instead. It was clear from the expression on the other man’s face that he was enjoying every damn second of the supposed torture, and the cheeky look he made as he slurped along Sanji’s cock didn’t feel anything short of predatory. As much as he wanted to think he had Zoro where he wanted him, it was clear that it was actually the reverse.

His dog or no, Zoro was calling all the shots here, but Sanji didn’t mind.

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Everything seemed to be going perfectly fine up until this point. He’d managed to get across what he wanted to do, how he felt – more or less, anyway – and the cook had gone along with him almost perfectly. So there they were, both panting and sweating as Zoro had rubbed up against the bastard’s entrance, about to thrust in. A foot had then pressed to his chest, and the goddamn whiny cook had ruined the moment by saying…

“Oi shithead. Put on a condom; I ain’t having your children.”

Pulling back, all Zoro could do was stare. What the fuck? What the hell had Sanji been smoking? How could they even have children anyway? The serious look on the blond’s face – flushed with arousal as it was - hadn’t helped his train of thought one bit. Children? What? Unable to understand what Sanji was even going on about, he flicked his thoughts to the actual comprehendible part, shaking his head.

“I…I don’t have one.”

“Then you ain’t fuckin’ me.” Annoyed, Zoro was about to shout at him for leading him on as Sanji didn’t have any of the goddamn things either when a foot crashed into the side of his head. When the blond straightened and started pulling on his clothes, the swordsman found himself lost for words. Sanji could honestly just stop in the middle? Didn’t it hurt?? With a quick pat on his head, the cook was out of the door, leaving Zoro to deal with his problem alone, though he could have at least stayed and helped him jerk off. Zoro would have done the same for him, and it wasn’t as if they had to fuck anyway! But no.

At the next island, he borrowed money off Nami and bought the largest pack he could find.

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Sometimes when he would awake, Zoro would have the distinct impression that the cook had been next to him at some point, watching him. The scent of smoke floating around him didn’t help his suspicions, nor the small piles of ash he could find near his head. As for why the blond saw fit to look at him, he didn’t know; finding the action strange, but oddly not uncomfortable. If Sanji wanted to stare, then he could stare all he damn wanted. Zoro could really care less.

But when the moron was so damn obvious about it, he had to wonder if he wanted him to know or not. And if he wanted him to know, did he want him to act on it or not? Rolling his eyes, he would remind himself that he would never figure out what the damn cook was thinking. So he just ignored the ashes, continuing to sleep wherever he felt like it. But over time, the piles grew larger and larger, the swordsman able to guess exactly where the other man had sat and watched him. More and more, he would start to feel hands brushing over his chest and cheeks in his dreams, getting more and more embarrassed as he realised the culprit. What the hell Sanji was petting him for, he didn’t know, but he was going to find out!

The next time he settled into a spot, he didn’t fall asleep. He just closed his eyes and waited, not disappointed as he heard the familiar noise of Sanji walking, making a show of being asleep as the cook settled next to him. Feeling oddly like he had caught him in the act, he was about to open his eyes and shock him when Sanji leaned over and pressed their lips together. Surprised, his eyes shot open, the sight of the blond’s lips on his own almost pushing him into overload.

Without thinking, he grabbed Sanji by the shoulders and flipped them over, kissing him hard as his hands scrambled to run over his body and into his hair. Struggling unexpectedly, Sanji pushed him off and started shouting insults, causing the others to come running as Zoro pulled him in for another kiss. Hearing the gasps, the swordsman carried on anyway, kissing the cook until the resistance stopped, licking his lips when he finally pulled back.

“You asked for it, cook.”

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If there was one thing Zoro prided himself on other than his strength, it was definitely his restraint and self-control. Whenever he wanted something, he could always block out the desire with hours and hours of training and meditation. In fact, it didn’t even matter how much he wanted it, he was quite capable of blocking it out without even that, causing the other members of the crew to think there was nothing at all he wanted. Of course, excluding the title of greatest swordsman.

But whilst this was a good thing most of the time, it really made the weeks leading up to his birthday unbearable. Round every corner, there would be someone waiting, just to ask him what he wanted on a day he found completely insignificant. It felt like he never aged anyway, so having them get so excited every time there was a birthday was annoying. And it wasn’t only his; for every damn birthday on the ship, they would all act like idiots, making Sanji bake cakes or some special food for the occasion.

That was even more annoying, because the cook would snoop about and ask pointed questions about what they wanted, interrupting his naps more than once about it. As always, he told him to just fuck off, and ended up with a stupid cake he didn’t even want to eat.

He never got anyone anything for their birthdays – he had no money, and he refused to pay Nami the blasted interest she’d force on him anyway – yet they always seemed to put a lot of effort in for his, and it made him feel strangely guilty. Even the bastard cook was nice to him on that day, letting him drink the good booze without even so much as a snarl. He wasn’t going to complain about that though; having the idiot shut his trap for one day was always a freaking godsend, in his opinion.

However, the crew did not always get him the best gifts. And he was trying to remember how much they all meant to him when he had walked into his bedroom and found Sanji tied up naked on his bed. Why the hell they thought he would want this was beyond him!

But the longer he stared, the more enticed he felt himself becoming, stacking his swords against the wall. Losing control once wasn’t so bad, right?

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Sanji had never liked swords.

Their only purpose was to harm and kill, and he hated that. The way Zoro used them was as if he was granting death upon anyone who even came close to him, the curved blades reminding the blond almost painfully of scythes. Not that he was opposed to death in particular – he spent hours and hours around dead things after all – but to see something with such a base purpose pissed him off. They were weapons, nothing more, and he could not see how someone could be as obsessed with them as the swordsman was.

Yet every time they were in battle and Zoro beat down an enemy, he could not have said he wasn’t grateful for them. Time and time again, the swordsman would help to protect the things that Sanji was quickly holding dear, and he was startled to find he was coming to admire them. The way he perceived them seemed to change too; as the more he saw a sword in Zoro’s hand – or mouth – he found them comforting, as a source of protection. He almost felt safe.

And now he couldn’t say he would have changed them for the world.

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There was more than one reason Brook liked Zoro.

It wasn’t just his awesome skills with blades, nor the attitude that Brook truly admired in a man, but just the generosity that only Zoro seemed to have.

The day the swordsman had come back with a pair of pink panties hanging off the grip of one of his katanas, he had offered it to Brook quietly.

“Do you want it? I get them thrown at me all the time, and I don’t even want them. Just don’t tell Sanji.”

Clutching them, Brook knew Zoro was truly a god among men.

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Being kicked out of the galley by a particularly pissed off Sanji, Zoro looked at him from his upside-down position on the deck, wondering why he put up with his crap.

The blond was a catch, no matter what way he looked at it. Sure, he had a foul temper and a limited vocabulary, but the man sure could cook, and he definitely knew how to look utterly sexy whilst doing so. When he laid those things side by side, he knew what he’d rather have had, which is why he kept his mouth shut, even when Sanji would annoy him.

The pros far outweighed the cons, and with such a pretty member on board the ship, Zoro felt as if Sanji would quickly turn to someone else if he even so much as hinted that he was going to let him go. And, dammit, when he had seen the tall blond heading towards their table all that time ago, he had called dibs! To Usopp’s disappointment, the sniper hadn’t been able to see just how good the damn cook was until he’d gotten closer, and he’d constantly cursed Zoro’s vision ever since.

And though every time he wanted a kiss he had to wrestle a cigarette from those wonderful lips, Zoro decided some sacrifices had to be made. His health be damned – the title of Greatest Swordsman wasn’t a health guarantee with all the others chasing after you anyway – he would have Sanji til the day he died. Even if that meant choking on cigarette smoke first thing in the morning and suffering kicks to the chest throughout the day. The damn blond was worth it. At least, Zoro thought so. Then again, he had felt those gorgeous legs in action, so he was probably a little bit biased.

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When Nami and Robin had held hands on the deck and proclaimed that they were lesbians, Zoro suddenly felt his courage take over. The look on Sanji’s face was torn between wonderment and despair – with the latter overtaking the former as he realised he could never ever watch – so Zoro had taken a step forward, grabbing the blond’s arm. He had planned to keep it a secret, but with the positive responses around him, and the boldness of the women, he just couldn’t anymore. Not if he wanted to call himself a man.

“Me too. And I like you, cook.”

Suddenly, the whole crew went silent, and all their wide eyes turned to him. The grins that had been there previously had faded away into shock. However, Robin was still grinning, chuckling gently as she let go of Nami’s hand and explained:

“We were just joking, swordsman-san.” Feeling his face heat, Zoro forcefully let go of Sanji’s arm and crossed his own, looking to the side. “We wanted to tease cook-san.”

“I-I was too!” Noting the ever-constant stares, he snarled. “You’re an idiot if you believed that for a second! As if I would be attracted to some skinny lovey dovey bastard like him!” Feeling humiliated and stupid, he stomped off; going to get a cold bottle of booze. Dammit, he couldn’t believe he’d done something stupid like that. At least no one would take it seriously now. He’d said it wasn’t real, and they knew he didn’t lie to them, so it should be fine.

However, when he found extra food on his plate at dinner, he was starting to suspect the cook didn’t actually mind. Especially not with the flirtatious looks he was given every time he looked over to him.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

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“C’mon Luffy, its simple!” Usopp whined. “Marry, shag or throw off a cliff?”

Making that ‘I don’t know/I don’t want to’ noise that everyone was all-too-used to, Luffy tilted his head. Out of the corner of his eye, Zoro watched the exchange, inwardly amused by how frustrated Usopp seemed to be getting. It was a simple question after all: If he had the chance to, who would he pick for each option?

Zoro was pretty damn entertained. The way Luffy was taking it so seriously – or was he? – was pretty damn hilarious. The fact that the Captain really didn’t want to answer was quite obvious, and he almost would have felt sorry for him, had there been another type of entertainment on the ship. He could really have gone for a marine attack right now, but they’d not run into any for ages; disappointing since he’d been training so hard since the last set and wanted to try his new skills.

However the conversation was soon getting rowdier as the tall chef found his way over, prodding Luffy for his answers with a smirk on his face.

If he could do any to Sanji, Zoro would definitely do all three.

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Pressing his lips up every inch of Sanji’s legs had seemed like a great idea at the time.

They were fucking gorgeous legs, and the idea of worshipping every part of them before they wrapped around his waist was fitting and sexy. There was nothing in the world that seemed more perfect than that. At the time, of course. Now that he was doing it, Zoro was getting incredibly frustrated. Why were they so fucking endless? It felt like he’d been down here forever, and as he glanced up, he saw the look of annoyance on Sanji’s face before the cook wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it.

Impatient bastard! Zoro scowled, reaching up to grab the offending hand, dragging it away and lacing their fingers instead. He’d get to it, dammit. Why couldn’t the pervert wait a few damn moments for him to get there? Hearing Sanji groan in disappointment, he looked up to his face. Enjoying the flushed cheeks and half-lidded eye, he couldn’t help but feel the need to moan, his cock throbbing needily between his legs. Damn, he hadn’t had anything yet… Stupid cook’d had all the attention so far, and it still didn’t seem enough for the horny blond! Then again, nothing ever seemed enough for Sanji, and he had to admit that he did like the cook’s insatiable appetite.

“Dammit marimo, you’ve been kissing my legs for five fuckin’ minutes!” Feeling his face go red, he stared up quietly. “Hurry up or I’ll do it my goddamn self!” That being all the motivation he needed, Zoro shifted up, wrapping his hand around Sanji’s cock instead, stroking roughly. Smirking at the look of pleasure on his face, Zoro thrust in.

If the bastard wanted an orgasm, he’d be the one to give him it.

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Anyone else would have said his hair was ‘golden blond’ or ‘honey-coloured’. But not Zoro. No, that shithead had to pick what was perhaps the least complimentary way to describe the shade, and Sanji had been infuriated for hours.

After kicking him in the face, he had stormed out of the galley and tugged his clothes back on properly. Soon after, he went back into the men’s quarters and went to bed, pulling his covers over his head moodily. When Zoro had nudged at his side, he’d just rolled over and ignored him, and after two more attempts the swordsman had given up and gone to bed too. And the bastard damn deserved it too.

The next morning when he had been preparing breakfast, Zoro had come in and tried to hug him from behind.

“Oi, cook…about last night…”

“Shut up.” Brandishing a knife at him – though he wasn’t sure whether it was a punishment to the swordsman or not – the blond scowled. “I’m busy; fuck off.” Without a word of complaint, Zoro just sighed and left, shaking his head. If Sanji wasn’t going to listen, there was no point him staying, right?

However, when everyone came down to breakfast half an hour later, Zoro sat and stared at the item on his plate in agitation. The self-satisfied look on the cook’s face as he looked over was annoying, so he picked up and ate it without complaint, bowing his head before leaving. He’d take that as a warning never to do it again, though he felt fucking bad enough about it already. Yet as he went to lunch and found the same thing, he raised an eyebrow. Sanji’s point had gotten across already…

For dinner, it was the same thing too, and he lost his temper. He would never ever compare anything related to the cook to food ever again. Even if Sanji fucking asked him to. How the hell was he meant to think of anything else when he had Sanji pinned under him after a hard day’s work? Glancing up, he’d seen a flash of yellow and said the first word that came to mind; it wasn’t like he’d wanted to say that!

It had just been there, like some magical answer to his prayers. He couldn’t think like that anyway!

Dammit, he swore that if he ever saw another banana, he’d shove it up Sanji’s ass.

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Sanji’s eyes were mismatched.

It was a fact, and an interesting little tidbit he’d discovered when no one else was around. As he’d stroked through the blond’s hair, he’d caught a glimpse of bright green from the usually-covered eye, and hadn’t resisted his urge to tug the hair up out of the way.

Of course, the cook had been completely unimpressed with him for peeking, and he’d ended up with a foot slamming into his face for his efforts. As he’d winced and sat back up, the blond had pointed at him and shouted various things that he wasn’t listening to, before storming off quickly. The reaction had been far less violent than he would have expected, and he assumed it was because Sanji trusted him to keep his trap shut that he hadn’t ended up with broken bones all over.

And of course he wasn’t going to say anything!

He loved to know things about Sanji that the others didn’t know; probably more than he should have if he was honest about it. It was oddly thrilling, and he couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Luckily, the cook apparently knew that well.

So that was why the next time they were alone, Sanji let him lift the hair and explore – with permission this time, of course. As the swordsman had gazed upon the ocean blue and grass green eyes, he’d been unable to help brushing his thumb down the blond’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss. He couldn’t care less if the teen’s eyes didn’t match; Sanji was still unbelievably sexy, and perhaps even more attractive now that he knew. Any reason the blond had for hiding it was ridiculous.

When Sanji had pulled away and warned him not to tell anyone, he’d just smirked. He’d never tell.

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Zoro knew Sanji hated compliments. Well, that wasn’t exactly true because the cook actually fucking loved them – if they were about his food. But whenever the swordsman tried to give Sanji himself a compliment, he would always wind up injured and Sanji would always glare angrily. It was fucking ridiculous.

Though seeing Sanji made his day better – especially when the cook was either half-dressed or naked – he wasn’t even allowed to say one nice thing to him. Goddammit, even when they were alone Sanji would kick his head in for it, and it was incredibly frustrating.

Hell, he couldn’t even jokingly compliment him! Whenever he’d said things like ‘nice view’, he’d ended up getting kicked worse than when he’d been sincere, and he was baffled by Sanji’s agitated behaviour. Why wasn’t something like that okay? Whenever the girls said a slightly polite word, he was all over them, hearts in his eyes as he pestered them to say more, but when it was Zoro, a kick to the face seemed appropriate? Fuck that!

He and the cook had been shagging for months now, so they were technically lovers, and he was looked down on for speaking his mind??

Sanji didn’t make any fucking sense, but he was sick of being hit. Any other person would have just given up, but he was determined to be able to compliment the cook on the things he wanted to, so he just followed him around. Every spare moment they were by themselves, he’d mention a thing he liked, attempting to dodge the various kicks thrown his way unsuccessfully.

After a few hours, Sanji lost his temper and started screaming at him for it until Zoro had him pinned to the wall. As the swordsman whispered more and more compliments into his ear – gradually getting ruder – Sanji had squirmed and gone bright red, unable to kick out at him as Zoro’s hips were between his thighs. Covering his ears, Sanji had tried not to listen, gasping as Zoro had started licking at his neck. He surrendered an ear as he pushed the swordsman’s head away, glaring angrily at him. With a smirk, Zoro asked what was wrong, continuing to grope the cook as he waited for his answer. Loving the gasps, he squeezed Sanji’s hips tightly, surprised when Sanji hissed into his ear:

“It’s embarrassing, stupid!”

Zoro spent the rest of the day grinning.

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Sanji’s not the type that actively checks out men.

But on this ship, where most of the crew are men, it is hard for him not to pay attention to them. And Sanji likes exotic men, so the swordsman does things for him that he never really thought possible. It’s impossible for him to remember the last time someone managed to entice him, and it’s his exotic skin that seems to do it.

Sure, Usopp’s exotic too, but not in the way Zoro is. All those muscles and that short green hair are just so appealing, and Sanji finds himself staring quite often. He’s always walking around topless, all sweat and smirks whenever Sanji goes by. It seems to be entirely on purpose, too.

The scar across his chest that signifies when they first met is one of the things the blond knows he cherishes. And that gives him hope, though he knows all too well it is more of a symbol of Zoro’s fight with that guy. Yet Sanji likes to hope.

So he teases and flirts, to try and gauge where he is on Zoro’s radar. The swordsman pays attention to him, and that is all he needs.

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The only thing Zoro knew about love was that it was very much like a kick in the head.

Now, whether that was to do with the fact that his partner was Sanji, or whether the emotion was just like that in general, he had no idea. He’d never been in love before, and he’d never even wanted to either! As far as he was concerned, being ‘in love’ was some dopey girly thing that only wussy guys and clingy women did, but then he had met the cook and that philosophy had quickly flown out the window. Unless he was now a wuss, which he didn’t think was the case. If anything, he’d gotten stronger from his time with the cook.

He wasn’t even quite sure how the whole thing had come about, but now he could barely spend a few hours without seeing Sanji before he’d get agitated. He wanted to always know where he was, what he was doing… He supposed he was the possessive type. That, or the stalker type; either was viable for his current behaviour.

He’d taken to watching Sanji cook meals now. Sitting on the couches, he’d watch every movement of the blond’s body with scrutiny that bordered on obsession. And he knew that, yet it didn’t stop him from doing it. Which definitely should have bothered him more, but unfortunately had no effect. Of course, the stalking did affect the cook, who would often turn around and start yelling at him to go away, whilst Zoro would adamantly demand a reason for why he was being kicked out and refuse to budge.

And that was without mentioning the fact that they fought like mad animals almost every day. Swords would be drawn, shoes would crash into faces (mostly his), and they would shout and squabble as if their lives depended upon it. It seemed that at least five times a day, he would taste Sanji’s heel as it smacked into him, and it bothered him less and less as time went on. In fact, he’d begun to welcome it; starting to piss off Sanji on purpose just to feel the leather on his skin and pain in his cheek with the occasional taste of blood on his tongue.

But that’s who he was – and that was who Sanji was too. They had to fight.

Yes; a kick in the head sounded perfect.

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Sanji wasn’t sure why, but every single thing that the swordsman did got on his nerves in the worst possible way. Whether he was eating, sleeping or even fighting him, there was just something about him that would agitate the blond, making him want to kick him hard in the face.

As far as the cook was concerned, Zoro’s entire existence was an annoyance.

Yet there was nothing he could do about that; the bastard was a valued crew member who had been around far longer than him. By the time he’d arrived, the stupid swordsman was someone the rest of the crew depended upon, and he won over the new members too damn quickly. There wasn’t another member on board who didn’t like him, and that got on Sanji’s nerves the most. Why couldn’t anyone else see how damn infuriating he was??

The stupid green hair and cocky smirk were only two of the things about the man he really hated. The fact the idiot stared at him a lot – well, he’d been staring at him too, but in hatred – got on his nerves, and he hated the way Zoro would look away whenever someone else entered the room. What? Was he too scared to get caught having a silent fight with him or what? The red across the swordsman’s cheeks didn’t help his moods either. What the hell was going on in the marimo’s head?

Of course, when Zoro grabbed him and gave him a rough kiss, he still found him annoying. Even after the touches that his body arched into and the sweaty sex on the galley floor. Even as he kissed back and touched him all over too.

The swordsman still pissed him off to no end. But maybe he was a little more bearable now.

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In Sanji’s humble opinion, he was the master of love.

There was not one thing about the subject he felt he didn’t know, despite the fact that he’d neither had a serious relationship nor sex. As far as he was concerned, he knew everything, particularly when it came to women.

So he bragged and bragged about the knowledge and abilities he didn’t have, and gave advice to others that usually ended up in disaster. And when they came to him again about it, he just blamed their technique and walked away. Quickly. Then again, maybe it was their own fault for asking him, when he practically radiated ‘inexperienced’.

Of course, when someone had actually turned around and told the cook that they were in love with him, he was left flabbergasted and had no clue what the hell to do. But when the love came from the most unexpected source, who could have blamed him? It’s not like anyone would have expected Zoro to find him attractive, let alone fall for him. They were supposed to dislike each other, after all.

Taking advantage of his silence, Zoro had leaned in and kissed him, pressing his body up against the wall before Sanji could even react. His hands cupped and kneaded at the blond’s thighs and ass, even as the rest of the crew stared at them in shock. The swordsman didn’t have the sensitivity to confess anywhere private; why would he? He’d never been interested in this type of thing before.

After a short while, Sanji had started to struggle and push him away, cursing loudly whilst giving the women pleading looks. But no one came to his rescue; instead cheering them on as Zoro dragged him away.

That day, the ‘master of love’ conceded his defeat in the galley.

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It was eerily quiet on the Sunny that evening.

The patch of ocean they’d sailed through since Thriller Bark had been calm but the sky outside went dark and grew cold early. Because of that, no one was out on deck any more; all of them staying inside save for the poor soul stuck up the crow’s nest on watch. Who, on this occasion, happened to be Usopp. She recalled the complaints the sharpshooter had made as he climbed up the mast not much more than an hour ago.

But, of course, the silence could not last long. Not on this ship.

“Goddammit marimo; you are a walking fashion disaster!” Ah, there they went again. This happened every damn time they got a minute to get changed into new clothes, and she wondered why she didn’t just expect it from the get-go. It wasn’t like the two ever surprised her by behaving. “Let someone with taste show you how it’s done.”

“Oi, what’s wrong with the way I dress?” A pause.

“Your Skypiea outfit made you look completely gay! What was with those goggles; we were on some goddamn clouds, moron!”

“’Cause pink is a totally straight colour.” Zoro retorted, his voice rising just in case she couldn’t hear. “And don’t even get me started on those girly-ass trousers you were wearing!”

As the bitching continued, Nami put down her book and rolled her eyes. Another day, another argument. It wasn’t enough that they’d all just risked their lives battling Moria and Kuma; Zoro and Sanji had to have another fight. Or should she just say ‘foreplay’?

Hearing the familiar crash of one of them tackling the other to the floor, she sighed. It was just too much to ask for peace around here. She didn’t know why she bothered.

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Looking up at the far larger man, Sanji had gestured for him to go with him. As the first to receive the orb, he could have easily picked Robin or Nami, but felt it was best to pick Laquos instead. Firstly because he’d been eyeing the guy since they’d arrived, and secondly because he wanted revenge on Zoro for going back to this ‘Saga’ guy. Who, by the way, he was convinced was the swordsman’s shitty ex or something. There was no way the mosshead would have betrayed them otherwise; he was sure of it.

In any case, the blond had known they had a little time before they had to get the orb to its rightful place, and so had pulled the guy to the side. Pressing their mouths together, he had been completely unsurprised when the man responded to him perfectly and allowed the heated make-out session to commence. When they’d pulled apart, there were no words spoken as they dashed to the pillar and spied the marines.

But now, as Zoro was sulking on the other side of the Merry, Sanji was sort of regretting it. Even though the bastard had gone back to the stupid silver-haired guy (who – to Sanji’s distaste – was quite attractive), the blond could tell he was regretting ever doing it. And since it had been a promise the idiot had made, Sanji couldn’t very well stay mad. Yet Zoro was sulking, and quite obviously too.

Agitated, he bit the bullet. And the end of his cigarette as he lifted his fist and grit his teeth. Being nice to him was just fucking painful.

“Yo! It’s all water under the bridge! You can come down, Zoro!”

That night, Zoro pinned him down in the galley and didn’t let go of him til morning.

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If there was one thing Zoro could be truly counted on to do, it was get lost.

No matter what, the swordsman seemed to find himself on the wrong side of town, or with the wrong people. Given some directions or a map, he would still end up wandering off course, wondering where the hell he was. Often, he found his way back, but by some coincidence; sometimes even animals helped, like a South Bird or Luffy on a flying fish.

But, there was one thing the swordsman did not need a map for. Sanji was pleased to be it.

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It was no surprise to anyone that when it came to one of the girl’s turns to be on watch, Sanji offered to take it. The blond idiot would do anything for them after all, and Nami always thought that was a good thing, especially when they were coming up to a winter island. At times like that, she let him take over, mainly because he would stay up and bring her drinks and soup and pretty much do the watch for her if she didn’t. And if he was going to be awake anyway, she might as well take the chance to sleep.

But, of course, that then meant that the cook was sitting up in the crow’s nest wrapped in a blanket and shivering all evening. Which she would have felt bad about, had she not wanted to be out there herself.

One night, she was unable to sleep however, and decided to go and take over. Dressing, she’d gone outside and started to climb up, surprised by the scuffling she could hear. As she neared the top, she froze in place at the conversation that hit her ears.

“Fuckin’ get lost, marimo!”

“Shut up dartbrow; you’re frozen and I’m not letting go til you warm up.” Zoro retorted, the shifting getting louder. Hearing a squeak, Nami wanted to peek over to see what was going on, but resisted.

“It’s colder with your hand down my pants!! …Ah!”

Eyes widening, she made her way back down silently. Stalking back across the deck, she realised her hand was clasped to her mouth in surprise, and didn’t dare remove it until she was in hers and Robin’s room again. As she climbed into her bed, she allowed herself to giggle. If it was like that, she’d never feel guilty again.

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Zoro had long since learned to ignore what Sanji said to him.

If there was anything he knew about the cook – and there was a lot he knew about him – it was that the blond was never honest with him. No matter what was going on, Sanji seemed determined not to agree with him to the point of stupidity. Of course, for the truly important matters, the cook couldn’t help but give his real opinion, but for everything else there was always a clash. Usually over the stupidest things too, and it wasn’t like the rest of the crew hadn’t noticed the weird behaviour either.

Unfortunately Sanji was as transparent as the clingfilm he sometimes wrapped their food in. The others had now learnt not to pay much attention to the blond’s words – if they ever had anyway – when they followed something he had said, and it was probably better off that way.

In any case, it was times like this when he had the blond pinned underneath him that he just ignored every word that left Sanji’s lips. More than half of it was just insults anyway, and the rest was a mixture of demands, moans and lies. Hell, when it came to him, it was almost like Sanji couldn’t tell the truth! As if he’d die if he said what he was actually feeling.

So when the blond told him to stop, he ignored it. Like he was going to listen to that when those long legs tugged him in closer instead of kicking him away! He put far more importance in what the cook’s body was doing, and since he hadn’t yet been kicked to death for it he assumed he wasn’t doing it wrong. If Sanji hated it so much, he’d damn well act on it; he knew that as a fact.

But not everything the cook said under him was negative. Ignoring the moans of satisfaction and demands for more, there was one other thing Sanji said. But Zoro just couldn’t believe it. Though it was only ever whispered as if Sanji didn’t want him to hear, though there was more emotion in the words than he’d heard from the cook before… He just couldn’t believe in them, no matter how much he wanted to. Because everything else was all lies. Why would this, of all things, be true?

They were just words after all.

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Sanji watches from afar because he thinks his love has no hope. He hesitates to touch, refuses to be honest, yet often picks fights just so he can hold the attention for a few moments if nothing else. He wants to wrap his arms around that muscled body; to hold and be held until the morning begins, but can never quite reach out. Instead he watches, following the other man with his eye til it hurts and even then finds it difficult to tear his longing gaze away.

He loves from a distance. He’s good at it after all; much practise had from his time on the Baratie, watching another with his desperate stare. A stare that screams to be loved, since he will never find the confidence to let it be yelled from his lips. That love, however, was nothing like this. That love was the love of a child for its parent, as he had never met his own. This one is the type of his age; endless, maddening and all too painful.

It feels like it encompasses every part of him and he knows he can’t let go. But it also feels impossible, so he can never act; too scared of rejection to even try his luck.

Many knowing people have told him he is dazzling in his unrequited love, yet Sanji can’t believe them at all. If he is so alluring, why is it that he is never seen? Why is it that he is never loved? Not once has he heard the words, and his heart sinks every time he bitterly wonders if he ever will.

The chase is something he is used to. The capture is something he hasn’t experienced. He doesn’t think he can but he can’t stop chasing either, and it is painful. He wants and wants and wants, but never receives. He gives his love freely, to anyone he thinks will accept and always walks away empty-handed, sullen.

If anyone would love him he would be grateful, he thinks, and that is why he tries again and again so that someone – anyone – will just notice him! It doesn’t have to be the one he’s aiming for; he could learn to love anyone if the feeling will be reciprocated. At least, that’s certainly how he feels.

But deep down, he knows he will never stop chasing Zoro. And that is what hurts.

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Sulking up in his training room, Zoro nursed the bright red foot-shaped mark on his cheek with his palm, looking across the room in annoyance. It wasn’t his fault they’d been caught in the middle! He hadn’t been expecting anyone to just walk in on them; else he’d have brought a blanket or something to cover them with. Dammit, Sanji was just too bitchy; there was no need to have kicked him! If he’d have known, he wouldn’t have done it.

Yet the cook seemed determined to pin all the blame on him, as if he’d planned the whole thing. Like he’d wanted the rest of the crew to find out they were screwing. If he was honest he really didn’t care much, but the blond was acting like it was the end of the world. A boot to the head and Sanji had ran off, red as a beetroot as the others looked down at him quietly, leaving him to explain it to them. There wasn’t really anything he could have said though, so he just shot them a glare and come up here.

And now Sanji probably wasn’t going to go near him for at least a week! And what a cold, lonely week it was going to be; especially if the cook decided to kick him out of the galley or something. Zoro wouldn’t have put it past him at all: if Sanji could walk away in the middle of sex after kicking him, there was probably nothing that he wouldn’t do.

Groaning, he rubbed his face again and leaned back against the wall, directing his gaze to the ceiling. It wasn’t entirely his fault; Sanji had let him!

Upon reflection, perhaps fucking in the middle of the deck was not such a good idea, after all.

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It’s the little things he likes.

The soft gasps for air, nails digging into his skin. The feeling of long legs around his hips. That sense of achievement when he watches the subtle changes in expression and hair shift across the other man’s flushed cheek.

He focuses on the little things more than the larger ones. Finds it easier to hold back and gets more out of it that way. Thinks his partner does too.

So he likes it when Sanji does little things. Like sucking hickeys and tugging on his middle earring.

But he’ll never admit it out loud.

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In contrast to Zoro, Sanji enjoys the bigger things.

The thrust of hips, the biting kisses. The grip on his wrists when he’s been pushed down and taken nearly by force. The jolts of pleasure rushing up his spine from every single move.

However, he knows his partner prefers the little things, so takes the time to indulge him in them. He knows that the swordsman likes hickeys, knows that when he pulls on that middle earring just so, that Zoro’s hips will jerk forward the way he likes it.

But what he enjoys most is the biggest thing: control.

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Staring blankly over at the cook, Zoro had to blink a few times as he tried to digest the earlier sentence. It didn’t seem to be sinking in, so he shook his head, slapped his cheeks lightly and looked over to Sanji again.

“…Repeat that.”

With a snort, the blond stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved a bit closer, poking him in the chest with a finger.

“I said, ‘you should iron your clothes’, marimo.” Batting his hand away, Zoro merely raised his eyebrow, not even dignifying it with a reply. At that, Sanji sighed. “You always look messy, that’s all.”

“Why do you care, dartbrow?” Zoro snorted, reaching up and grabbing the cook by the tie. He yanked him down so their faces were level, smirking as Sanji tried to pull away. “Aren’t you afraid someone’ll steal me away if I look too good?”

“Like anyone would!” Sanji snapped as he tried to pull away, only to be tugged in closer by the swordsman til their noses touched. “No one is stupid enough to want you.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro murmured placatingly. He wanted to point out that the blond must have been pretty damn stupid, but he stopped himself before the words even materialised in his head. “Whatever you say.” His lips pressed against the cook’s for a moment before he pulled back, a grin covering his face. “But I ain’t ironing nothin’.”

The kiss earned him a kick to the face and a bitchy lover for the rest of the day, but he was sure it had been worth it. Sanji wasn’t mentioning ironing his clothes at any rate, and that could only be a good thing.

When Sanji started to do it for him, Zoro gave in. If he didn’t have to, he didn’t care.

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The day Zoro had realised Sanji’s feelings towards him, he had been in shock.

As the idea had sunk in, he had sat in his usual place and stared at his hands; annoyed to find he couldn’t sleep. Hours had passed before he had gotten to his feet and gone to find the cook in question; a hand grabbing Sanji’s collar as he turned the blond to face him. Without another thought, he had crushed their lips together, the rest of the crew watching on in amusement.

As a chorus of ‘hallelujah’ was sang, they both flushed red. Cheeky bastards.

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For all the times they had yelled that it was over, the two knew deep down that in reality it never would be.

When one would declare that it was the end, the other would snort and act like he didn’t care. Then the next night they’d find themselves entangled together all over again and not say a word come morning. It was how they always operated; sniping at each other to try and hurt though it never actually worked.

Zoro was usually the first to lose his patience, despite his great control over it the rest of the time. No matter what happened, he would usually be the one to shake Sanji out of his bed and take him elsewhere, though he found it far more exciting when Sanji broke first.

Feeling Sanji’s foot in his spine was never fun, but having the cook clutch at him and whisper dirty suggestions into his ear turned him on more than he would ever admit out loud. Of course it was obvious when he grabbed him right back and pressed up against him that that was the case, and Sanji knew it.

They both knew the effect they had on one another, and they always tried to use it to their advantage. Yet one word and they would be right back to square one; screaming insults and pulling away like just touching made them sick.

It was stupid, and they knew the other never really meant it but they couldn’t help but follow it out again and again, as if it were some kind of dance. As soon as they separated, the other would always be in their mind, teasing them. But they’d give in again, because they always did. They knew it was inevitable and didn’t want to fight it.

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Amazingly, sixty seconds could change everything. Hell, sometimes it was even less than that.

One minute they would be calm and smiling and the next they would be at each other’s throats, swords and legs flying through the air. It was still so surprising how Zoro and Sanji could flip attitudes at a few simple words and go from contently sitting near each other to smacking the other into a wall.

On the sidelines, the rest of the crew would just shake their heads, keep talking and leave them to it. They didn’t want to interrupt the idiot mating call.

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It was hard to ever have a holiday when you were a Strawhat.

They just never seemed to catch any breaks. If Luffy wasn’t getting into strange fights, Zoro and Sanji were bound to be having some kind of bitch-off in the vicinity, or someone would realise who they were and ask them for help about something.

But sometimes, none of that happened. Everything went strangely smoothly, and Nami could relax. Then came the night.

The next morning she was irritable as hell. She should have known better than to have the room next to Zoro and Sanji’s; the headboard was banging all damn night!

As they came out of their own room glaring, she groaned when she realised they were already bitching at each other. How two people could spend the entire night having sex and then suddenly be at each other’s throats was beyond her.

She was about to ask them about it when Luffy came barrelling down the corridor with a girl in his arms. Five seconds later she heard the shouting of marines and just walked back into her room, locking the door behind her. Someone else could fix it.

So much for a ‘peaceful holiday’.

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How this had happened, he’d never know.

There had been glimpses of it when they had bathed together, the occasional thought that Zoro must be stuffing, yet it had never seemed like this. Until he had seen it up close, the blond had been in complete denial. One glance was all it had taken for him to take back all the times he had thought otherwise, and before he had known what was happening, he was sore.

If he hadn’t seen it himself, Sanji never would have believed it, but…

There was a huge monster living in the swordsman’s pants.

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Sometimes Sanji wasn’t a total bastard.

While the cook could be the most annoying, whiny, lovesick, bitchy asshole that Zoro had ever had the misfortune to meet, there were times he was almost pleasant. Like when there were no women around and it was just them sitting somewhere. At times like those, they actually made conversation and barely fought at all, which Zoro oddly enjoyed.

They would sit and look up at the stars and just be near each other til morning came and the swordsman would wake to see a blond head resting on his shoulder. Before he knew what had come over him, he would always have wrapped an arm around Sanji and petted his hair gently as he heard him snoring.

Moments like these were rare and far between, so he took advantage of them whenever they happened, just resting his chin on Sanji’s head carefully. Of course, whenever the cook showed any sign of waking up, Zoro would pretend to be fast asleep and let him leave in silence.

The next time they would come across each other, they’d avoid gazes and kick up a fight as quickly as possible. But not without bright red cheeks.

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At times, Sanji really did believe in miracles.

The first time they had gone all the way, the cook could have sworn that a divine force that liked him must have been watching. Not only was Zoro actually considerate and – dare he say it – good, but his prostate had been found with ease, and teased mercilessly. He couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt this good before.

Sanji was surprised Zoro had managed to find it without a sign pointing to it. But even then he would have doubted that the swordsman would have been able to find it. The skill Zoro was using to make him cry out was unexpected but definitely not unwanted, and Sanji found himself trying to pull him even closer as he gasped for breath.

When they eventually pulled apart, he ignored the smug smirk on Zoro’s face and moved to light a cigarette, inhaling the tobacco lazily. As Zoro draped himself over his back and stroked up his stomach with just his fingertips, Sanji leaned back against him, resting his head back on his shoulder to look at the ceiling.

Too bad the swordsman couldn’t use a little of that ability for directions.

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The first time he had ever laid eyes on Zoro, the bastard hadn’t seemed like much. He just looked like an idiot, and considering his personality the assessment was good. Okay, so maybe he had looked like an exotic idiot, but an idiot nonetheless, so Sanji had just ignored him.

However, as he had joined the crew and spent time with him, Sanji found that he was a lot more than that.

An expert fighter, a caring nakama, amazing in bed: these were the things he really was.

Yet the first impression had been right: he was still an idiot.

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When Zoro had realised his attraction to Sanji, he had been completely shocked. Not because of an issue like gender, but because he had thought the cook was someone he disliked. But he didn’t fight it; instead making his move the next time they were alone.

The fact Sanji was attracted to him too had been more surprising. Who would have thought the girl-crazy love cook actually fancied the grumpy swordsman that picked fights with him all the time?

Their feelings for each other had been unexpected from the start, yet he wouldn’t have changed them for the world.

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To say that Zoro and Sanji were a little different was a massive understatement.

One ran after girls, one ran away from them. The swordsman slept a lot, the cook barely slept at all. Sanji spent hours and hours on his appearance, Zoro threw on what was closest without a care. Even their fighting styles were different; Zoro’s being dependent on his upper-body strength and Sanji’s in his hips.

There were so many things that they were almost polar opposites in, yet they stayed together no matter what. If anything, the vast range of differences just made things more interesting.

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But whilst there were many differences between them, there were many similarities too. The desire to protect what they loved, to gather their dreams. The way they kept their crew together through thick and thin even when it was painful. The fact that they seemed to have the same ideas of where to kiss, then be quick to blame the other when someone inevitably saw.

In terms of temper, they were quick to lose them. In terms of insults, they were quick to throw them. In terms of clothes, quick to lose them. And neither had any complaints about that.

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Someone had once said that eyes were the window to the soul.

It was a quote Sanji knew well; had spent his life trying to experience. When he met Nami and stared into her eyes, he couldn’t see anything at all, doubting the words for the first time. If it didn’t work with her, surely it was a lie! He should have been able to see something; Nami and him had a great budding romance between them, didn’t they?

Yet when he looked into Zoro’s eyes, he saw himself reflected back in them. And that confused him more than anything.

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The time Sanji had joined the crew was always going to be etched into Zoro’s memory. Not simply because he had joined, but because that had been the day that he had first faced Mihawk and obtained the scar adorning his chest like a medal.

Every time he looked at it, he was reminded of that day; more and more memories of the blond sneaking into his mind as time passed on. Zoro didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but smiled at them anyway. If he was going to remember, he was going to enjoy them.

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If there was one thing about Zoro that Sanji worried about, it was his health.

Whilst he took care of his needs (both as a cook and as a lover), the moment the idiot swordsman stepped onto a battlefield it was out of Sanji’s hands. There was only so much he could do for him, especially when Zoro would practically make it his business to get as injured as possible. It was almost like the swordsman liked being in pain, and the blond wasn’t going to put that past him.

There was nothing he could do, yet he worried anyway.

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Until the time that the cook had joined the crew, things like food and drink had only been necessities that kept him alive. What they were and how they tasted didn’t matter to him at all. In fact, until the very time he was almost too tired to do anything else, food was not on his mind at all. The important things had been training and travelling to beat Mihawk, then trying to protect the crew from the dangers they ran into.

But after Sanji had cooked for them that first time, Zoro had looked forward to meals ever since.

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Both Zoro and Sanji were shocked when they woke up one morning to a small parcel lying next to them. For one thing, they were only dressed in a sheet on the galley floor, and secondly they’d barely slept at all. Who had managed to find them and get that close when they were asleep, anyway?? After a brief argument over being caught, Sanji had reached down and opened the bag, going red to the tips of his ears when he saw the items inside. Zoro had taken the parcel then and simply been amused. Lubricant and condoms, eh?

As Sanji started getting pissy at him over it, he just shook his head and tackled the cook to the floor. Like he was going to let the gift go to waste; these things looked pretty expensive, and it was rare for them to get something so good for doing it. With his total lack of money and Sanji’s cigarette addiction, they never had much money to begin with, so he took the things gratefully. For a little while, this meant he didn’t have to borrow money from Nami, and that was only ever a good thing. He was sick of the interest piling up so much without adding to it. Soon enough however, he had the cook crying out and really got down to business, not noticing the figure in the other room at all.

Watching just long enough to make sure they were using them, Chopper made his slow way back to the men’s quarters, smiling to himself. He was responsible for the crew’s health after all; both physically and sexually. He’d known about their relationship for a while (everyone had; they weren’t discreet) and it wouldn’t do for either of them to get sick like that, would it?

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The past was a topic neither of them ever discussed. Like Luffy, they never felt the need to know everything about their crew, no matter how close they were. When one became a Strawhat, they threw everything bad they disliked about themselves away and were reborn. That was just how things were.

So whether they became a little closer than with the rest or not, it was the same. Sanji didn’t speak of starving on that island, and Zoro didn’t talk about how he had lost Kuina. They didn’t want each other’s pity, and their relationship was better for it.

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As with the past, the future was another thing they didn’t talk about. As far as they were concerned, things would happen and they would go along with them without being held back by promises they didn’t want to keep. They were going to fight for their dreams as it was; adding other things to that was unnecessary, and stupid.

Of course, whilst they didn’t talk about it, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t on their minds.

Their fumbling in the dark would only continue until the time that one wanted to end it. Sanji knew Zoro could die the next time he faced Mihawk, and Zoro was aware that the cook’s heart was easily swayed. Hell, with all of their constant battles it was probable that the dreams they fought so hard for would never get realised, but they just didn’t want to think about it.

A relationship built on lust was best left alone. When they became bored, they would stop and both had silently vowed not to let it turn into more than that. Yet vows like those were hard to keep, and deep down they hoped that the future had them together for years to come.

Chapter Text

Roronoa Zoro did not have nightmares.

He never had and he never would; that was how it was.

At least until he had started fucking the cook. After that he could sense something changing in himself and the first time he jerked up out of his hammock in a cold sweat with wide eyes he tried to laugh it off. The fact he couldn’t remember exactly what it was that had woken him was practically a godsend, so he shook it off and pretended he just needed to use the bathroom.

The second time it happened, it was harder to deny. For a start, he’d been to the toilet barely an hour before, so it was impossible to be that. Then coupling that with the fact that he had the distinct image of blond hair matted with blood burned into his mind’s eye, and it was obvious what was going on. Yet he managed to push the thought away and get back to sleep, shaking his head vigorously.

When the fifth one happened, he had no more excuses. He was having stupid nightmares. But there was really nothing to worry about: he’d be fine if he didn’t piss Sanji off.

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Alone in the hotel, Sanji scowled and lit another cigarette. They’d made plans to come back here hours ago, and it was already dark outside. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered. The second they had docked here the swordsman’s hands had been all over him until he had kicked him in the head and promised to do this. After all, he’d had to stock up on groceries for the ship first. Zoro had reluctantly agreed to wait, and Sanji had gone on his way, taking his time to get everything perfect.

At the time they’d agreed on he had come back and waited in the foyer, losing his temper when an hour had passed without even a glimpse of green his way. Annoyed, he had booked a room anyway and given a description of the swordsman (“a grumpy green bastard”), going to wait for him. That had been two hours ago now, and he was wondering if maybe he should just go to sleep.

Stubbing the cigarette in the nearest ashtray, Sanji stripped off his clothes and went for a shower, not seeing Zoro outside looking around frantically.

Zoro was probably lost -- and had definitely lost his chance.

Chapter Text

It was only supposed to have happened once.

A hurried clinch in the galley caused by arousal, humiliation and impulse. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more and he’d known that even as they’d pushed against each other. He was sure Zoro had known it too, like an unspoken agreement neither needed to voice. Soon afterwards they wrenched apart, acting like they were disgusted to even be in the same room. As Zoro had pulled up his pants and left with a bottle of booze, Sanji had caught his breath and lit a cigarette, flopping back against the nearest chair.

It hadn’t been mentioned again since, yet as the days passed by Sanji found his eyes following Zoro’s every move. Training, sleeping, eating; he watched it all, though he couldn’t understand why. He was haunted by the memory of Zoro’s skin on his own, the feeling of the swordsman’s mouth pushing hard against his as climax hit and the fleeting sensation of fingertips brushing through his hair with a tenderness he couldn’t describe.

After a week had flown by, Sanji had realised he was obsessed, locking himself in the galley and trying to cook the feelings right out. Of course, it was impossible. Being so close to where it took place was maddening, so much so that he couldn’t take it. There was nothing he could do: if he left the room he would undoubtedly run into Zoro and jump him, but if he stayed he knew he would go insane from yearning.

Striding into the galley without a care, Zoro pulled the decision from his hands. Sanji tried desperately to ignore him yet his arms were flung around the swordsman’s neck before he could stop himself.

The last thing he recalled was Zoro’s fierce gaze as pleasure overtook him.

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With Zoro’s hand clapped over his eye, it was almost like Sanji was blind.

His other senses heightened, the smell of sex and sweat filling his nostrils as the heavy panting and husky words from the swordsman echoed in his head. The heat of Zoro’s hands felt doubled; his body straining and shivering against him with every minor touch or long caress. He could taste the salt of his own sweat in his mouth, even the air seeming to have a flavour of its own as he gasped it in.

Though he was vulnerable, he enjoyed this most of all.

Chapter Text

Lifting the cook’s leg higher, Zoro noticed him start to tremble, a smug grin growing over his face as Sanji glared at him in response. The gritted teeth and sweat on his brow didn’t get past the green haired man either, just fuelling the grin further as he took a steady thrust inside.

He knew the blond hated it this way, proven right when there was an angry hiss of ‘fuck you’ thrown his way. Instead of laughing he continued rolling his hips forward; the tensing of Sanji’s jaw and the shuddering of his body speaking volumes he’d never say.

Chapter Text

When the cook had told him to drop his pants and close his eyes, Zoro had no idea what was in store for him.

A clinking noise of something in a glass, the blond getting on his knees in front of him, a wet tongue touching his sensitive flesh. Then nothing. As he began to take a breath something freezing rubbed under the head, his eyes snapping open to find ice cubes between the cook’s lips. Gritting his teeth he watched Sanji lean forward, both the ice and his cock disappearing into his mouth. Closing his eyes again, Zoro moaned.

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Opening his eyes, the first thing Zoro saw was a pale expanse of back. The pleasurable feelings that had disturbed him from his slumber now had an explanation; the swordsman’s eyes trailing down that back to watch hips fucking themselves down onto him. Glancing back upward, he saw the familiar mass of blond hair, murmuring as he sat up and reached around to grasp Sanji’s throbbing cock. As he licked down the cook’s neck, he thrust his hips up hard, drawing a groan from Sanji’s lips.

With a smirk, he decided that this really was the best way to wake.

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Slipping his fingers deeper, Zoro gazed down at the almost painful arch of Sanji’s lean body as it writhed under him, the cook’s head thrown back in bliss. Carefully tilting his fingertips to the side, the swordsman chuckled at the gasped curses, that blue eye turning his way and catching him in its sights.

Suddenly, the urge to push inside grew strong and he was sliding his fingers out and pressing into the blond before he even realised it. There was a strangled whimper and then Sanji arched up toward him again, cock brushing his abs and making him sigh.

Chapter Text

Rocking down harder onto Zoro’s lap, Sanji’s eye followed the line of scar adorning the swordsman’s chest. The mark that symbolised the day he joined the crew. Shifting forward, he reached out long fingers to trace along it, not missing the grunt Zoro uttered under him.

The cook then glanced to Zoro’s face, a shaky smirk growing on his lips as he caught the brief look of surprise that lingered. It didn’t last long though, as he was quickly rolled onto his back, lips meeting his neck as their chests pressed firmly together and the scar caressed him right back.

Chapter Text

Their reunion was one of silence. There was a long pause between them as they half-glared at each other, neither asking where the other had been. It wasn't as if Zoro wouldn't discuss his efforts if asked but he didn't feel like bringing it up for no reason. Though he had gotten stronger, it didn't seem like the time to brag - not that he would have done so anyway - since Sanji seemed secretive and unwilling to talk about what he'd been up to. The rest of the crew were chatting and hugging each other enthusiastically, but his attention was focused on the cook, who seemed too much unlike his past self.

Bored of the silence, the swordsman said the first thing that came to mind:

"Get yer ass in the kitchen and make me a sandwich." Zoro smirked, loving the twitching of Sanji's eye as his cheeks started to stain red. He couldn't help but enjoy teasing the cook, and though two years had passed nothing had changed between them. To him it was business as usual.

And that meant pissing off the cook until he got a foot swung at his head.

This time, however, it was different. Instead of the usual sort-of-play-but-actually-serious fighting, Sanji booted him in his now-blind side, taking Zoro by surprise. Before he really had time to react, it was followed up by another and he found himself crashing into the nearest wall. As he blinked away the pain and shifted into a sitting position, the chef just huffed and walked off with a hand in his hair; his whole posture screaming that he felt uncomfortable.

With a sigh, Zoro turned to sit with his back against the wall and closed his good eye. Better to just doze now that he was here, in this cosy sunny spot. Later, when he woke up he saw a solitary sandwich on a plate next to him. Opening it warily, he saw a simple sandwich of meat, cheese and a green slop of sauce.

Sauce in the shape of a heart.

Feeling his own face go red at the sight of a damned green heart, he put the bread back on and hastily rubbed in a circle; ruining Sanji's weird message. Lifting it to his mouth, he took an aggressive bite, ignoring the taste on his tongue and the feelings of nostalgia it caused.

Stupid cook.

Chapter Text

“Zoro, please use me.”

It wasn't often that the cook got into one of these moods, but when he did, it fucking drove Zoro wild.

Usually one to demand all the attention, Sanji surprised him by wanting almost nothing from him – just their bodies slamming together. No foreplay, no prep, just the swordman's cock buried deep inside him where he liked it the most.

The sounds Sanji made like this were like music to Zoro's ears. He was breathy, desperate and fully honest for once.

When begging, Sanji never had to ask twice.

Zoro always gave him what he wanted.

Chapter Text

"Hey, cook. Will you bite me?"

For a moment, Sanji was stunned. With his back to the galley floor and Zoro pressed down tightly against him he could barely breathe let alone process what the swordsman was saying. His body was aching for more but Zoro had stopped moving. He groaned in disappointment and squeezed on Zoro’s cock.

Zoro moved his head closer so his breath was hot against Sanji’s ear, voice husky yet cautious. "Please."

Wordlessly he turned his head and bit tentatively at Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro trembled above him.

“Fuck, again.”

Sanji couldn’t help a smirk.

“You masochist.”

Chapter Text

Early into their relationship, they had realised that they didn't like to kiss.

Biting, licking and sucking, sure, but a mouth-to-mouth tongue kiss was just not for them. At best, such things were awkward and at worst they were kinda gross.

For Zoro, it was simply uncomfortable but for Sanji, it was downright disgusting. So they never kissed.

Unless Zoro was feeling particularly sadistic, of course.

He'd learned through their romps that when Sanji was about to cum he wouldn't resist being kissed. In fact, it often sped up the process.

He always got kicked for it straight after though.

Chapter Text

Sanji's favourite moments with Zoro were when the swordsman was naked.

Just getting to look at the entirety of that powerful body was rare, so he took every opportunity he could.

That's why, when they had to share a communal bath, Sanji had stared too much and Zoro had caught his glances. The swordsman stared back, then grinned.

“Mine's bigger.”

Sanji went bright red.

“No it's not!”

“Oh yeah? I'll prove it.” Zoro grabbed him and dragged him somewhere private, ending up hot and sweaty against a wall.

And that was how the Strawhats were banned from yet another bathhouse.

Chapter Text

The first time, it had been a complete accident.

After an intense round of lovemaking Zoro had pulled Sanji tight to his chest and buried his hand in his hair, just enjoying the softness of it. The cook was still shaking against him, probably overwhelmed by his orgasm even now.

“You alright there, little one?” A joke – a tease that Zoro was still taller. They competed over everything else, so something like their height may as well play a part. Sanji sighed and melted against him; the opposite reaction from what the swordsman had been expecting.

“Yes Daddy.”

As the words met his ears, Zoro tensed. A second later Sanji stiffened too, realising what he’d just said. Moments passed where neither said a thing. Their faces were red; Sanji’s in embarrassment and Zoro’s in… arousal?

Fuck if he knew why he reacted like that but he wasn’t one to question it, eventually pulling back to look Sanji in the eye. He knew the cook could feel his renewed hardness jutting against his thigh.

“’Yes’ what?”

The flush across Sanji’s cheeks spread up to the roots of his hair. He stared into Zoro’s eyes, repeated the word. Nervousness tinged his voice but it didn’t matter.

Zoro immediately rolled him onto his back, breath hot against Sanji’s ear as he resumed what he’d been doing.

“Good boy. That’s right.”

Now there was no way that it was a slip of the tongue.

Despite both of their initial confusion, they’d taken to the nickname – and dynamic – like flies to honey. Something about it just felt right and neither of them wanted to fight it.

As usual, Sanji was a brat at times. Saying stupid things to piss Zoro off and then following up with soft apologies with the word that made him lose his sense of anger at the sound of it. He couldn’t help himself from responding in kindness; soft touches and gentle words that would have made him want to knock himself unconscious at any other time.

He knew he was letting the cook practically get away with murder when Sanji booted him in the side and then pouted his frustration away.

The next time it happened, Zoro sighed and laid a firm hand on Sanji’s shoulder. The cook looked at him in surprise, hesitant.

He was going to teach the little shit some manners now. Daddy wouldn’t spoil him forever.

Chapter Text

Sanji was quick to forget the punishment, returning back to his cocky self not even a few days later. Though he’d cried and begged for Zoro to forgive him at the time, it was almost like it had never happened. Zoro would have preferred his actions to have more of a lasting mark; it was weird but when he was in this headspace he just wanted to be kind to him. Wanted to treat him gently and with care. Not that he didn’t enjoy being rough with him in general but when Sanji’s voice went soft and the nickname left his lips it was different. Then again, there was something appealing about reducing him to a weeping mess when he was like this too. Zoro didn’t want to have to be mean to him but he couldn’t deny he got into it when he started.

Either way, it seemed a little discipline every now and then was necessary.

“What’re you going to do, Daddy?” Sanji teased under him. “Hit me with your belt?” His leg kicked out at Zoro’s sash, sending it billowing behind him for just a few seconds. He looked back up to Zoro’s face in amusement.

“No,” Zoro was calm as he grabbed at Sanji’s pants. “Not my belt.”

Sanji flushed red as it dawned on him that perhaps he’d been pushing a bit too far. Zoro pulled his belt from his waist with ease, yanked Sanji’s trousers and underwear to his knees and then sat down, dragging Sanji face-down across his lap in one smooth motion. The cool leather pressed against Sanji’s thigh as Zoro’s other hand looped around his neck and fisted in his hair, holding him in place.

“I’m sor—“

“No you aren’t. Not yet.” The statement was punctuated with a light smack against his ass. Then another, harder this time. As Sanji wriggled in his grip all Zoro did was make the hits stronger, faster; alternating between hitting his butt and his inner thighs without warning. Swapped his grip so the belt buckle slammed hard and drew blood.

Sanji was sobbing wordlessly now, his ass bright red and wriggling against Zoro’s thigh. Taking pity on him, the swordsman pulled him to sit in his lap, eyeing his erection. Tears were streaming down the cook’s flushed face, his eyes shut tight and his mouth twisted as the choked noises escaped his throat without restraint. The sight calmed any anger and frustration Zoro had been holding up to this point. Sure, his lover was a bratty little thing but he did love that about him. Enjoyed putting him back in his place. Knew Sanji liked it too.

Without a word, he took Sanji’s cock into his palm, stroking it gently and watching Sanji squirm. The blue eye looked nervously at him as soon as Sanji opened his eyes, trembling in his lap.

“Da-Daddy?” Quiet, not sarcastic. Good.

He’d endured it well, seemed to have had enough. It was time to give him a reward.

Chapter Text

Zoro stroked his hand up the side of Sanji’s face what was covered with his hair. The cook flinched as his fingertips reached his cheek, looked nervously at him. Ever since they’d met he’d never seen this side of Sanji’s face. He didn’t know why but the cook seemed to be hiding something.

Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable, Zoro moved his hand across to lace it through the hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Sanji sighed in relief against his lips, wound his own hands around Zoro’s neck.

As he slipped his tongue into Sanji’s mouth, Zoro closed his eyes. It didn’t matter really; whatever it was that Sanji was afraid of was not something that was going to put him off. For all he cared the cook could be brutally scarred there and it would not have stopped him wanting to be with him. Would not have made him think any less of him, nor unattracted. He’d never felt like this for anyone else before, after all.

Sanji didn’t know that but it was true. Only he made Zoro like this.

Perhaps he’d see what the big secret was someday.

Chapter Text

As Sanji stared at Zoro, took in his new look, the cook swallowed.

When the fisherman had told him that Zoro had a deep scar across one of his eyes, Sanji had prepared for the worst. Had reminded himself that he had changed too, though not as drastically. Flipping his hair from one side to the other wasn’t much but it was at least something.

He’d rolled his eyes at the fact that Zoro had boarded the wrong ship, had scowled to himself and taken a large drag of his cigarette at the fact their reunion was going to be delayed even further. Sanji wouldn’t say it aloud but he’d been desperate to meet back up with him, finally see him after these two years of hell and retain a sense of normalcy.

So when the ship had resurfaced, cut clean in half by Zoro’s sword, Sanji had been relieved. He’d tried not to let it show, had tried to pass it off as not caring either way. But his eyes had been glued to Zoro despite himself.

It had been two years since they’d seen each other last and he had expected some things to be different but what met his eyes was far beyond his imagination. The swordsman was even more muscled, his chest broader than ever. The fact that it was now on display was something Sanji couldn’t help but appreciate; Zoro showing off his scar like the victory prize it was.

What was disappointing to him was the fact that now Zoro wore long sleeves, kept his arms covered. He’d never thought he’d miss that stupid white shirt that the swordsman almost never took off, but he did now. If his chest had improved that much, he could only imagine the change in Zoro’s biceps. How much bigger they’d be, the firmness of them, whether the veins would bulge when Zoro would wield a sword. Sanji felt oddly robbed.

His cheeks flushed as he wondered what it would be like to be held by those arms now, how it would feel to be pressed up against the firmer muscles of Zoro’s chest. He could barely wait for nightfall. To be embraced by him.

Too bad that the swordsman was such an idiot. Who got on the wrong ship anyway?

Calming himself, Sanji shook his head. He’d just have to not let him out of his sight.

Chapter Text

After cutting the annoying wrong ship to pieces Zoro had noticed Sanji on the pier, staring at him.

Sanji seemed different than he remembered; his shoulders broader, his beard a bit fuller. Otherwise he was pretty much the same, still wore suits and walked around with his hands in his pockets. It took Zoro a moment to notice the flipped hairstyle, only realising it once he saw Sanji’s eyebrow and had a feeling that something was off.

So that’s what had been under Sanji’s hair this entire time. It was a little boring.

What wasn’t boring though, was the intense stare Sanji was giving him; his eye clearly fixated on the swordsman’s chest and arms. Zoro couldn’t help smirking internally. The cook probably thought he was being subtle but even after two years apart Zoro could read him like a book.

Sanji was looking at him like a man in the desert would look at an oasis, need all but written over his face. A little frustration too: every time Sanji’s eye flicked to his arms he seemed agitated. Like he was angry about something.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted to see them but Zoro felt more like teasing him than appeasing his desires; taking every opportunity to cross his arms and let his sleeves bunch up just a little. Watching as Sanji’s gaze was drawn, hopeful but ultimately disappointed. How amusing.

Now he’d wound up stuck with him, both bitching at each other in the familiar dance that hadn’t changed one bit. Pissing each other off just for the sake of it.

When night fell, Zoro was going to give him exactly what he wanted – wrap his arms so tightly around Sanji that he wouldn’t be able to breathe easily. Hold him down against whatever surface they ended up at, let him feel exactly how much stronger he’d gotten while he was away.

He assumed the cook would do the same; wind his legs around Zoro and squeeze the life out of him until he could barely breathe either. Both straining in each other’s grip until all their energy was sapped from them and release made them boneless. The thought had his blood pumping through his veins but unlike Sanji he wasn’t going to let it show on his face.

For now though, he was just going to keep winding him up. Driving him crazy.

Chapter Text

As Zoro had asked, Sanji wound his legs around his head, lightly grasping it. The swordsman looked up at him from between his thighs, impatient and eager.

Sanji went red as he started putting pressure on Zoro’s head, crossing his calves tightly behind it. Zoro’s face flushed after a few moments, his teeth gritting as he closed his eyes. The cook didn’t understand where this request had come from or why Zoro even wanted it in the first place but had agreed simply because of the swordsman’s excitement.

Zoro’s hands grasped at his thighs as he let out a breath. For a moment Sanji thought he wanted him to stop but was proven wrong quickly when Zoro insistently tried to push his legs together even harder. Cheeky fucker.

Scowling, Sanji stopped restraining himself, flexing his thighs against Zoro’s head with as much strength as he could. Zoro groaned in response, the lustful sound causing Sanji’s cock to twitch in excitement. When Zoro opened his eyes, he saw it immediately, leaning forward to take it in his mouth.

It was Sanji’s turn to moan then; his head flopping back as a shudder ran through him. He didn’t let up the force around Zoro’s head, surprised by his ability to perform under pressure. If the roles were reversed he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up, let alone get more enthusiastic about it.

All too soon he came with a cry, grabbing at the swordsman’s shoulders as Zoro just swallowed it down. His legs relaxed before he meant them to, the cook panting as Zoro pulled back and looked down at him in desire.

Slipping up his body, Zoro grabbed hard on Sanji’s thighs and wrapped them around his waist.

“Now do it here while I’m inside you.”

Masochistic bastard.

Chapter Text

Pushed up against one of the walls on the deck, Sanji held back a moan as the swordsman’s lips traced across his neck. Zoro was being weird again. The cook shivered, eyes lidding as he wondered what it was this time.

Zoro leaned in close to Sanji’s ear, stroking his hand down one of thighs meaningfully.

“Hey, that thing you do when you set your leg on fire…”

Sanji pulled back, his annoyance and surprise written all over his face. Quite frankly appalled that he’d even been asked.

Diable Jambe was for fighting only – it didn’t exist just to make Zoro turned on, goddammit! Though he usually tried to do whatever it was that Zoro asked of him, this was too much. There was a far cry between squeezing his head with his thighs and burning his skin off. Even if he was careful, he’d probably end up leaving him covered in burns and then they’d have to explain it to Chopper when he inevitably needed medical treatment or got seen shirtless while he trained.

“What? No!”

As Zoro began to sulk, Sanji’s eye twitched. He was not going to accommodate the idiot’s masochistic request this time!

Nope. No way.

Over the next few days, things did not improve.

The problem now was that every time Zoro glanced in his direction, he could see the longing for it written all over his face. When the swordsman got an idea into his head it was almost impossible to dissuade him – Sanji was just trying to ignore it but it was beginning to piss him off.

On about the sixth time Zoro looked at him like that within a day, the cook’s temper snapped.

Spinning on the spot, Sanji set his leg ablaze and launched an attack at him right in the middle of the bathroom while the other men were around.

As they began yelling and cheering at the impromptu entertainment, Zoro looked at him in pure shock, lust underlining his gaze as he dodged the first blow as slowly as he could get away with. Sanji felt his leg brush against Zoro’s side, watching the flush of excitement spread on the swordsman’s face. Sanji was annoyed at himself for giving in, swung again.

If he wanted it so goddamn badly he was going to fucking get it, just not how he’d asked. At least they could get away with this.

Chapter Text

“Listen, Zoro. It’s just sex. I don’t feel that way about you.”

Sanji’s cold words cut into Zoro’s chest far deeper than Mihawk’s sword had. The swordsman couldn’t help the dumbfounded expression on his face, the confusion in his head or the bitterness that suddenly welled in his heart.

Zoro didn’t remember quite how it had started but he and Sanji had been having sex on and off for months now; finding themselves entangled in various parts of the ship late at night when no one else was around. Over that time his feelings towards the cook had changed from playful rivalry to something more, something a lot stronger he’d never felt before.

He’d been sure that Sanji had felt the same, had been cultivating feelings of his own in silence. They never talked about it, barely even acknowledged it outside of the trysts but things had been gentle lately; the touches seeming like they’d meant more as time had gone on.

Evidently that was not the case for the cook, who was shaking his head and waving his cigarette dismissively in front of him. As if trying to push Zoro’s emotions away along with the smoke.

“I like women. You understand that, don’t you?”

Zoro winced internally – and possibly externally – at the clarification he didn’t want, didn’t need to hear right now. He felt stupid for baring himself like this. For misunderstanding such a basic thing just because Sanji had been doing this with him. Of course this meant nothing to the cook. Just Zoro and Zoro alone.

“I get it.” The steely tone in his own voice was surprising but he didn’t stop there. “I was just saying it because I thought it’s what you’d want to hear.” Zoro was sneering, his fists balled by his sides. He wanted to grab one of his swords, teach the idiot a lesson for messing with him like this. “Since you’re so obsessed with love, I figured I’d play along with you. Get you to spread your legs for me again.”

Sanji regarded him from over the edge of his cigarette, his fingertips pressed against his mouth as he took a drag.

“That so?” Sanji sounded angry, though he was trying to seem unconcerned. “Too bad; I ain’t in the mood. Keep your gross jokes to yourself.”

As Sanji stalked off, Zoro slapped his hand to his face in despair. Fuck.

Chapter Text

When Zoro had confessed his feelings to Sanji, the cook had been startled. He’d been hurt too many times, in too many ways to believe that what Zoro was saying could possibly be true. So he’d put up a front to protect himself, waving it off as a prank despite the more rapid beating of his heart.

Then the idiot swordsman had just proved him right, claiming the whole thing was just an excuse to get into Sanji’s pants once more – though he didn’t really need to do that in the first place. In that moment Sanji was both enraged by the attitude and relieved he’d protected himself, leaving in agitation before he lashed out and gave his lie away.

Since then he’d been avoiding being alone with Zoro entirely, not trusting himself to be able to keep up the charade. Zoro seemed to be avoiding him too; their gazes not meeting even once, no matter what was going on. Sanji guessed it was over; things were too awkward to continue now.

As it was, Sanji felt ridiculous and used. He’d known from the start that it wouldn’t mean anything but that hadn’t stopped him developing feelings anyway, much to his distaste.

But what was worse than that was Zoro being a dick about it.

It was unbelievable really. Sanji had never thought of him as that kind of guy. Not developing feelings was a given, but to be so nasty about it? He was disgusted just remembering it.

So why then, did he feel there was something more to this lurking under the surface?

For all intents and purposes, Zoro’s behaviour had just been strange. Though Sanji had felt validated in his decision at the time, he couldn’t help thinking it over whenever he had a spare moment.

The look on the swordsman’s face had seemed sincere as he’d said it. He’d only really reacted differently when—

Cursing, Sanji left the galley and went straight to Zoro, fisting a hand in his shirt and waking him from his sleep.

“What you said— did you actually mean it?!” Zoro didn’t look at him, confirming Sanji’s suspicions. “You idiot!”

Frustrated more at himself than Zoro, Sanji yanked him closer into a kiss. The rest of the crew looked on in amusement. Zoro shoved him away, clearly nervous.

“Wh-What’s this for?!” Zoro was spluttering, red-faced and surprised.

Sanji just kissed him again.

Chapter Text

Sitting against the wall next to Zoro, Sanji jumped when he felt the swordsman’s hand on his thigh. They’d sat down to keep themselves steady while the ship hurtled forwards but it seemed like Zoro was trying to unsettle his heart instead.

“What’re you doing?” Sanji hissed, pushing at Zoro’s arm.

“It’s alright,” Zoro glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “No one’s watching.”

Sanji looked out to the rest of the crew on the deck and realised the swordsman’s words to be true. Everyone else was excitedly watching Franky, trying to get involved in the Coup de Burst. They were far too busy worrying about escaping Bonbori’s stomach and not getting puked on to pay attention to anything else. His gaze trailed back to Zoro as he cautiously slipped his own hand onto Zoro’s thigh.

“Alright. But the second they turn around—”

Zoro grinned at him.

“I know.”

As the ship flung forward at breakneck speed, they used the wall and each other’s bodies to stay upright. Still casting their gazes at each other rather than where they were headed. They knew it would be alright either way – always was as long as they were together.

Chapter Text

“You fuckin’ suck at this!” Sanji complained, shoving his hands at Zoro’s chest.

For a moment, Zoro paused, dumbstruck by the bluntness of Sanji’s words. Right up until now he’d been moaning and squirming under him – there was no way he didn’t like it!!

“A-Aaah?! The fuck you saying?” Agitated, Zoro took another hard thrust inside, eyes narrowing as Sanji’s lip quivered and the cook squeezed on him.

“This is what I mean!” Sanji opened his eyes, teeth grit in frustration. “You’re just big and you’re ramming away – it hurts!”

Zoro scowled then, reaching his hand to grab at Sanji’s cock.

“If it’s that bad, you wouldn’t be like this, would you?”

Sanji moaned at the touch on his dick, his legs trembling slightly around the swordsman’s waist. Just that made Zoro feel satisfied; this was definitely some sort of stupid banter on Sanji’s part. Trying to piss him off like usual, trying to gain an upper hand. He wasn’t going to fall for it.

“That’s… not relevant!” Sanji gasped, his fingers digging into Zoro’s pecs hard enough to hurt. The slight sting just excited him more. “Doesn’t mean your technique isn’t shit!”

Zoro could feel Sanji’s ass twitching around him, hot and tight. It felt maddening, addictive. He didn’t want to stop moving inside him, though he’d already stilled at the annoying complaints. What the hell did Sanji expect? This was completely new to him – and he was certain the cook had no experience either. If someone told him otherwise, he wouldn’t believe them.

“Oh really?” Zoro gave Sanji a long stroke. “You think you can do better, then?”

Sanji groaned but rose to the challenge.

“I know I can!”

Sanji pushed his hips back hard, taking Zoro off-guard and forcing him to fall backwards. The cook shifted to straddle his lap, eyes narrowed and panting softly. The swordsman just stared up at him, defiant himself but amused by how easy it was to rile him up.

“Just stay still,” A warning more than a request. “And I’ll show you how to fuck a man.”

He’d been expecting Sanji to swap more than just their positions, had figured the cook would fuck him instead. But what he got surprised him; Sanji rocking up and down in his lap desperately, making facial expressions nothing like before.

The next day, Zoro uncharacteristically found himself reading a book on it to improve.

Chapter Text

“Oi, cook.”

Sanji rolled his eyes as he heard Zoro enter the galley, the smell of sweat and pheromones filling the air. The idiot must have been training too hard again, probably wanted some sake or something.

Turning around, he was surprised to find Zoro right next to him with a lusty look on his face. The swordsman’s hands grabbed at his hips as he leaned in closer, his intentions now very obvious. Sanji scrunched up his face at the overwhelming smell, pushing at Zoro’s chest with a leg to force him back.

“What, no! You stink!”

Scowling suddenly, Zoro just tightened his grip on Sanji, stubbornly pushing back against his leg. The adrenaline and endorphins from working out were still running through him, it seemed, as he forced Sanji’s leg up against his own chest.

“Does that even matter?”

“To me it does!” Sanji turned his face away, using a hand to push at Zoro’s head. “It’s disgusting, no way!”

Not put off in the slightest, Zoro let go of a hip to reach his hand around the back of Sanji’s head. The cook gasped and shuddered as he ran his thumb firmly down the nape of his neck, from the root of his hair to where his shoulder blades began. A wave of heat rushed through Sanji at the touch, his cock jumping in his pants.

“Are you certain?” Zoro’s voice was teasing now, the swordsman repeating the motion with his thumb. Sanji bit his lip.

“Not unless you shower first!”

Zoro’s hand dropped from his neck in annoyance.

“Fine.” A pause. “But only if you come with me.”

Sanji sighed deeply, shrugging his shoulders. The idea was better than getting bent over in the kitchen by the sweaty beast at any rate.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Zoro dragged him to the bathroom eagerly by the wrist, Sanji just sighing and allowing himself to be led. Once they got inside, Zoro flung off his clothes and eagerly started yanking at Sanji’s.

“Run the bath, idiot.” Sanji smacked his hands aside, removing his own clothes with care. Zoro scowled but did as he was told, climbing in when it was ready.

Lathering his hands with shampoo, Sanji strode over and started scrubbing at Zoro’s hair. When was the last time he’d even washed it? The swordsman was quiet, sinking lower strangely.

Zoro had fallen asleep. Sanji laughed and left him there.

Chapter Text

“Oi, cook. Get that gross shit out of here,” Zoro grumbled from his position on the floor, idly kicking his leg out in Sanji’s direction. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Sanji scowled as he looked down to him, agitated as ever by the hatred of his habit as well as the swordsman’s stupid napping places.

“I’ll smoke where I want.” To punctuate his statement, Sanji blew smoke down in Zoro’s direction, watching gleefully as it coiled in the air around Zoro’s face. “Not my fault some dumbasses are too stupid to sleep in their beds like normal people.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed as he stared him down, the swordsman’s mouth tensing in visible anger.

“I sleep where I want.” His own phrase was mirrored back to him, mocking and challenging him. “Go be disgusting somewhere else.”

Normally this would have been enough to make Sanji launch a kick at him, enough to piss him off into yet another fight. However something was different this time.

For just a moment, Zoro’s usually green eyes had seemed to go red.

Sanji shivered at the thought, not sure if it had just been a figment of his imagination. It required further testing. He straightened himself and flicked some ash from the end of his cigarette onto Zoro’s pants, sneering like he didn’t care.

“Shut up, marimo-head.”

The red came back, more intense and exhilarating than Sanji had expected. This time it lingered as the swordsman pushed up from his lazy position, slapping the remnants of the cigarette from his clothes.

“I’m not an ashtray, eyebrows.” Zoro’s voice was dark, his other hand clenched into a fist. He seemed like he was right on the edge of snapping; one more push would probably do it.

The cook usually considered himself a smart man but that didn’t stop him from making some very questionable decisions.

Slowly, carefully, deliberately, Sanji flicked his cigarette butt right into Zoro’s face.

The still-lit end smacked Zoro in the cheek, leaving ash on his skin as the remains fell down onto his shirt. Sanji would have laughed if Zoro’s hand hadn’t been around his throat less than a second later, the swordsman glaring into his eyes with so much anger it made him shudder. All Sanji could see was red.

“Fuck you!” Zoro spat, nails digging into Sanji’s skin.

The cook’s lusty pleading response startled them both:

“Please do!”

Chapter Text

On the deck on the ship, Zoro was getting frustrated by the constant noise coming from the women’s table. The damned cook was squealing and squawking over them again, the sound painful to his eardrums. Why couldn’t he keep his shit to himself or not be so obnoxious about it?

“Oi, I’m trying to sleep over here!” The swordsman growled, rubbing at the back of his head as he glared in their direction.

Sanji stiffened at his interruption, turning back to him with a sneer.

“Shut up, mint chocolate.”

“You first, banana creampie!” Zoro spoke quickly, stumbling over his words a little as he picked the first thing that really came to mind. Everyone around him stared, Sanji’s face going bright red with rage.

“The fuck did you just call me??”

The cook was taking it way too seriously. As far as Zoro was concerned it was just food. Sanji had insulted him with food so he’d just responded in kind. Like they always did.

As a foot was launched at his head and they began to fight, Zoro didn’t get it. He didn’t stop calling Sanji it though; yelling it at him across the ship and laughing every time Sanji scrambled to get over to him for another battle. Why the cook was being so immature about being called food, he didn’t know. But teasing him like this was fun – it was far too effective.

It was only later, when Usopp pulled him aside and explained what a creampie was, that Zoro actually understood. His cheeks flushed red but he wasn’t going to take it back. Even when images of Sanji with one crossed his mind.

Though he’d never thought about it before, it was oddly appealing.

Little did he know he’d get to cause it himself one day.

Chapter Text

Sanji frowned at the sight before him, taking it all in as he stood on the deck, hands in his pockets. Zoro was sprawled out on the deck like a cat, almost blocking his way to the kitchen.

No – not a cat, Sanji corrected himself. There was no way the swordsman was something so small, so docile. With his hulking physique and the stupid stripes on his haramaki he was far more like a tiger. The scars adorning his body just seemed to drive that point home.

Snorting to himself, Sanji resisted the urge to boot him in the side and wake him up. Wild beasts were difficult to deal with when their beauty sleep was disturbed, after all.

Stepping over him with a bored expression, the cook went into the galley.

He smirked as he pulled out a sake cup, pulling something from the fridge to fill it with before peeking out of the door and leaving it next to the swordsman’s face. As he started making dinner he couldn’t stop the amused grin from covering his face, eager for the reaction. Teasing Zoro was always fun; winding him up and getting him raging over the smallest things.

Though he was excited, Sanji switched his focus to the task at hand. Feeding a full ship was not an easy job but he loved it.

A while later he heard a disgusted sound from behind the door, breaking into laughter. Zoro stormed in soon after, fisting a hand in his shirt and yelling in his face. Not one to just take it, Sanji mimicked the action and yanked hard on the swordsman’s clothes too. Screaming at each other over a silly prank, as usual.

Sanji didn’t see what the big deal was. Cats were supposed to like milk, weren’t they?

Chapter Text

Nami-san had decided to start selling calendars of them in order to get money. Sanji hadn’t minded that – it had seemed like a good idea at the time. What he did mind though, was how focused she was on the damned mossball. How he’d not only gotten a calendar but one where he stripped off at that.

“It’s what’ll sell,” Nami had told him when Sanji had complained, waving him off with a hand. “Don’t get jealous.”

Sanji wasn’t jealous! Not really. Sure, he was a little bitter that the swordsman was getting this much attention, that he’d become the main attraction out of nowhere, but he wasn’t jealous. That would imply he had something to be jealous of, which he did not. He was certain his own calendar would sell better anyway; he was far more attractive and less gross.

Besides, it was hard to be envious of the big dumb idiot when he kept getting yelled at.

“Oi, Zoro, stop falling asleep!” Usopp yelled, camera in hand. Sanji didn’t blame him; he’d be mad too.

The swordsman was lying down on the beach, half in the ocean and topless, his hand on his chin as his eyes had fallen closed. Now he was snoring, clearly fast asleep despite the waves ripping against him. Sanji had to marvel at how he could fall asleep in such a situation.

“Actually, this could work.” Nami mused, laying her hand on Usopp’s shoulder. “Keep going.”

And that was how, despite the intention for this to be sexy, they’d ended up with a bunch of photos of Zoro asleep in stupid places. They made it into a calendar anyway, Nami beaming as they sold out pretty quickly.

Sanji still wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be: he’d hidden one away for himself.

Chapter Text

Zoro and Sanji were fighting again. Loudly. So loud in fact that it was pissing the navigator off.

“Kiss and make up, you two!” Nami yelled, shaking her hand at them angrily.

There was a pause as they looked at her, then back at each other. Sour expressions, like they would rather never apologise for what they were doing. Nami just shook her head, waited for one of them to say sorry first. Expected it would be Sanji, given how eager to please he usually was.

To her surprise, Zoro moved forward first. Staring at Sanji intently, like he was preparing himself for it mentally. The cook seemed to stare back at him, both of their bodies growing more tense. It was as though they were about to just disregard what she’d said.

Before she could even say anything, Zoro leaned forward and kissed Sanji on the mouth. Nami was stunned but not as much as she was when Sanji didn’t pull away and instead pressed back against him. As the cook’s arms looped the swordsman’s neck and Zoro’s wrapped Sanji’s waist, they glanced in her direction with just their eyes.

Lost for words, Nami just stared. Watched as they for some reason started using tongue, still weirdly staring at her, as if asking if this was enough. Her gaze was drawn away when she noticed Sanji’s hands trembling as they yanked at Zoro’s hair, Zoro’s arms shaking as they clenched tightly around Sanji’s body. Even though they were kissing, they were still goddamn fighting!

The whole thing was just ridiculous.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Now red in the face, Nami stomped over and separated them physically. Sanji rubbed at his spine as Zoro scratched at the back of his head, both still glaring at one another. “If you guys so much as raise your voices again, I’ll make it hell for you.”

“Yes, Nami-swan!” Sanji responded, though his voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. Zoro just grunted and turned away.

Shaking her head in frustration, the navigator began walking back over to the others.

“…Do you think she bought it?” A whisper so quiet she could barely tell who had spoken.

“I guess so.” A pause. “…Wanna finish up in the supply closet again?”

Nami decided not to turn back around to confirm what she was hearing. Her heart was beating so fast she wouldn’t be able to take the idea.

Chapter Text

Sanji left the galley to join the others on the deck, taking a break from the elaborate cake he’d been baking to have a well-deserved cigarette.

“Oi, cook! Bend over, I’m not kidding.”

Sanji turned his head to look at Zoro in surprise, his face flushing bright red. They were on the deck surrounded by the rest of the crew!! What the hell was he talking like that for – saying things he only reserved for when they were in private – when there was no way the cook was going to listen??

“Shut up, mosshead!” Unable to keep the nerves out of his voice, Sanji could have kicked himself at the way it strained and sounded panicked. If what Zoro had said hadn’t already given them away then he sure as hell didn’t want his reaction to it to be what made everyone realise. “Like hell am I going to do what you say!”

The swordsman scowled as he laid his hand on Sanji’s shoulder and tried to force him face-first over the railing. The cook panicked, flicking his leg up hard behind him and right into Zoro’s crotch.

As Zoro stumbled back in pain and started yelling, Sanji whipped around to look at him, almost screaming from his annoyance. Soon enough they were at each other’s throats; legs and swords swirling in the air without restraint.

The rest of the crew glanced over for a moment before turning back to what they were doing. They were more than used to this now, but who wouldn’t be when it was at least a daily occurrence?

“I really wish they weren’t so aggressive with each other all the time,” Nami mused, watching the impromptu fight from a distance. “All Zoro had to say was that Sanji-kun’s pants had icing powder on them.”

Chapter Text

The ship was running low on food. Zoro and Sanji had been nominated to fish.

“Fancy making things more interesting, mosshead?” Sanji smirked. “Whoever catches the least fish has to do what the winner says.”

Annoyed by the cook’s smug attitude, Zoro took the bait.

“If you lose, you’re gonna let me fuck you.” Zoro hissed, frustrated that even after all this time Sanji still refused to allow it. The cook would be fine all the way up to when he was supposed to put it in and then rush off in a panic just when things were about to get serious. One look at his cock was all it took for him to lose his nerve and it was driving him insane. It wasn’t that big.

Sanji flinched back from the statement for just a moment, red to the very tips of his ears.

“And if you lose?” Sanji seemed to regain his composure, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Seemingly thinking he had more than a chance to win instead, as if Zoro didn’t always win these stupid competitions between them. The cook was just a sore loser, never admitted to it. That would change today. “You owe me the best head of my life.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed at the challenge, almost wanting to do it just to put Sanji in his damn place.

“Pff, like that’d be hard. I’m already the best head you’ve ever had – you’ve never done it with anyone else!”

“I-I’ve done it plenty of times!” Sanji somehow went even redder, giving him away. “You just don’t believe me, you overgrown river dweller!”

Pissed off by the constant jabs at his hair, Zoro drew one of his swords. Marimo this, lost that – couldn’t the idiot think of something else to say for once? As soon as it was out of its sheath, Sanji had raised his leg defensively, ready for a fight.

The fishing competition was forgotten as they charged at each other, all thoughts of anything else left behind in their need to beat the crap out of one another. Like most times before it, there would be no winner or loser and neither would get what they wanted – this battle was going to end up in another draw when they got forced apart and yelled at for being annoying.

Maybe one day they’d finally settle it, but today was not that day.

Chapter Text

Sanji shuddered on Zoro’s lap as they both came, watching the swordsman’s face as he grit his teeth and grabbed harder onto his hips. They weren’t supposed to be doing this – having gone to bed early so they could be well-rested for the next. It had just been difficult not to start touching each other once they’d settled down; their bodies responding in excitement at the other’s proximity.

Though neither would have expected it, they’d been having sex regularly for a while now; brought on after a few close calls where they’d almost kissed and then gotten agitated and done it for real. He couldn’t remember who had been the one to start it but he knew such things didn’t matter – neither had wanted to stop once they’d started, tumbling to the floor and drowning in lust until it was over.

It was weird but stranger things had happened to them since they’d gotten onto the Grand Line. This just felt like more of the same though it was different.

Tired from exerting himself, Sanji snuggled down next to Zoro, embarrassment coursing through him at the intimacy between them. It wasn’t like them to act like this, all soft touches and affection but Sanji had to admit he didn’t hate it. In fact, it was quite pleasant and far more comfortable than he wanted it to be. So much so that he couldn’t help himself from trying to make it a little less bizarre, his lips brushing Zoro’s neck as he said the first thing that came to mind:

“I could beat the shit out of you.”

Zoro chuckled and wrapped his arm lightly around Sanji’s waist, pulling him in closer.

“I know.”

Sanji knew where the amusement was coming from. Zoro wasn’t making fun of him or trying to imply that he couldn’t do it but instead encouraging him. The damn mosshead had made it very clear by now that he was into that sort of thing, that the thought of getting kicked around was an enjoyable one for him. Sanji didn’t understand that, didn’t understand why exactly the idea was appealing to himself either. Then again a lot about this relationship of theirs was incomprehensible at times – why question something if they both liked it?

Choosing not to reply, Sanji just closed his eyes. They had a big day ahead of them tomorrow. It was time to sleep.

Chapter Text

“So, uh…” Sanji tried to act casual, like what he was about to ask wasn’t a big deal. He asked everyone this question, always got responses that were simple enough. Zoro would probably give him an easy answer too. “Your birthday’s coming up. What do you want?”

Zoro lifted his head to look at him, smirking.

“You.”

“Th-That’s not what I meant!” Sanji felt his face go bright red, gripped the lining of his pockets tightly. “What do you want to eat?”

“You.”

Frustrated by getting the same answer twice, Sanji lifted his leg and planted it on the wall right next to Zoro’s face. The swordsman just kept smirking, though this time he moved one of his hands to stroke Sanji’s foot.

“What, am I not allowed to ask for that?” Zoro’s fingertips slid under Sanji’s trousers to touch his skin directly. “I know whatever food you make is gonna be great. I’d rather ask for dessert.”

Flustered now from the compliment, the touch and what Zoro was implying, Sanji huffed and tried to pull his leg back. Failed because Zoro gripped his ankle, yanking him harshly forwards and causing him to lose his balance as he toppled directly onto him.

The swordsman’s other hand wrapped around his back as he tugged him to sit on his lap, Sanji bracing his hands on the wall to try and pull away.

“Oi!” Sanji shuddered when Zoro kissed at the side of his neck, protesting but not struggling all that much now. “S-Stop it, someone might see!”

“Then promise me my dessert.” Zoro murmured into his skin, flicking his tongue out to lick up towards his ear. “I’ll let go if you do.”

Sanji was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t want to give in to Zoro’s pushy demand but he didn’t want to be caught like this by the others either. Goddammit, why was this idiot so unreasonable at times like this?! He just wanted to know what food to make!

“…Fine.” Sanji twisted his head to the side, agitated. “You’ll get your stupid dessert.”

As promised, Zoro let go. The smirk on his face had returned with double the enthusiasm. Sanji pushed off of his lap and got to his feet again, frowning down at him. What the hell was so funny?

“You just called yourself stupid.”

Sanji kicked Zoro in the face.

“Shut up!”

Chapter Text

Since Sanji had gotten back from his almost-marriage, he’d been acting strange. Climbing into Zoro’s hammock in the middle of the night, grinding against his back and gasping while Zoro tried to sleep. At first he’d tried to ignore it but it kept happening night after night, keeping him awake.

Eventually Zoro had lost his patience, rolling over and touching Sanji back, enjoying the flushed look on his cheeks and the haze in his eyes. The next morning Sanji hadn’t seemed to recall it at all, puzzled when Zoro had brought it up. Acting like he was crazy, asking him if he’d dreamt it whilst taking a step back from him in discomfort.

It was then that Zoro realised why Sanji’s eyes had been hazy; he’d been doing it in his sleep, seeking out Zoro’s body without even knowing. Why it was happening all of a sudden, Zoro didn’t know. Sanji had never sleepwalked before, let alone anything else.

After that, he asked Chopper about it as a hypothetical scenario that might happen. The doctor had replied that it wasn’t all that unusual, that sometimes it was a temporary reaction and might go away all by itself. Zoro had found that to be a relief, didn’t want to stop.

When Sanji climbed into his bed again that night, Zoro accepted his advances without restraint. Didn’t bother trying to wake him up, didn’t see the point in making him angry and distressed by what he did in his sleep. Just touched him back carefully, making sure not to leave any marks or evidence behind. Even helped him back to his own bed afterwards, tucking him in as if he’d never left in the first place.

Just because Sanji didn’t know he was doing it, that didn’t mean Zoro couldn’t enjoy it.

Chapter Text

“Ha, bet you’re a real sword-swallower.” Sanji mocked, amused far more than he had any right to be. Not that he thought that Zoro was actually gay, just looking for an excuse to insult him however he could. Liking the way Zoro always got pissed off at him and fought him without a moment’s hesitation – it reminded him a lot of being back on the Baratie.

Zoro calmly looked over as he took his sword out of his mouth, sheathing it slowly and with care. His eyebrow was raised as he took a moment to let the words sink in.

“Sword-swallower, huh?” Suddenly something in the swordsman’s expression changed as he gripped onto Sanji’s wrist, yanking him close. “That meant to be an insult or are you asking me for a blowjob?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide as his face went red, tugging his arm out of Zoro’s grip hurriedly. He wasn’t sure what to make of that response, averting his gaze from nerves. Zoro had seemed predatory out of nowhere, even the tone of his voice lowering – in a way that caused Sanji’s stomach to tense uncomfortably.

“Uh, I…” Sanji should have said it was an insult but his head had gone blank. Too startled to think straight, too surprised that Zoro hadn’t just yelled at him like he’d expected.

“If you ask nicely,” Zoro murmured, moving in right up against his ear. “I might be inclined to show you if you’re right.”

At that, Sanji jerked away and took a few steps backwards, his whole face feeling like it was on fire. He could feel himself sweating, stammering even though no words left his lips. Zoro just smirked as he followed him over, pinning him against the wall with one of his arms.

“What is it that they say, ‘if you can’t take the heat, stay outta the kitchen’?” Zoro chuckled and licked his lips, Sanji’s eye following his tongue though he wasn’t trying to. “You should know better, shitty cook.”

Sanji was speechless. Continued being speechless even when he was dragged into a storage room, even after Zoro got back up from his knees with that same smirk on his face. Flushed red and boneless, Sanji fell to his own knees then, shuddering when Zoro grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up.

“Let’s see if we can put that filthy mouth to good use, hm?”

Chapter Text

Zoro was always blown away by the language that Sanji used. Most of the time it was crude, insult after insult, but sometimes the cook took things to the other extreme.

Soft words, detailed descriptions, a low husky voice instead of his usual brash loudness. Switching from one language to the other at the drop of a hat. Sanji could curse him out for hours on end but in the same breath switch to a sensual purr in French that Zoro did not understand.

Whatever he said didn’t matter – it was the tone that mattered at times like those. How he’d whisper into Zoro’s ear and it would all sound seductive or obscene, depending on his body language and where his hands were on the swordsman’s skin. Making Zoro shudder in delight, cause the fire that burned inside him to only heat up more.

Truth be told, Zoro loved it when Sanji spoke French the most. Always done in private moments, when the cook was looking for a way to tangle them together. He’d oblige no matter what else was going on, unable to resist at the sound of his name on Sanji’s tongue.

He hoped it would never stop.

Chapter Text

As Sanji lay sleeping beside him, Zoro’s attention was firmly on their hands. Before he’d drifted off, the cook had grasped one of his own, interlacing their fingers together on the pillow between their heads. The touch had been surprising to say the least, but now that Sanji was asleep Zoro had calmed down.

Enough to see things he’d never really noticed or paid attention to before; the contrast in their skin tones, the way Sanji’s fingernails were trimmed with care. How much slimmer Sanji’s fingers looked compared to his own, how soft and warm they were. The slight callouses on the inside of his palm from where he’d hold utensils, the three small scars on the back of his thumb that had mostly faded.

Compared to his own hands, Sanji’s seemed much daintier. Far less rough, much softer. He wouldn’t let that illusion fool him; he’d seen with his own eyes how powerful they were, how much strength laid in them whenever Sanji would flip onto his hands to kick their foes. Able to support him for what seemed like an eternity, despite the fact that the cook insisted he’d never use them to fight.

Zoro felt in this moment that he could spend a lifetime staring at Sanji’s hands. As though he could map out the bone structure and veins so intently he’d be able to recognise them at a single glance. Know them from their touch alone, from the slow pulse he could feel thudding against his own fingers. Memorise the spiralling patterns of his fingerprints if he got the chance, be able to know every single thing he touched from the marks left behind.

Embarrassed by his thoughts, Zoro closed his eyes. Obsessing over his lover’s hands made him feel creepy. Clearly, he needed the rest.

Chapter Text

When Sanji woke up, he noticed that Zoro’s hand was still holding onto his own.

It had been an impulsive action on his own part to grab onto it before falling asleep; a small act of intimacy that he’d felt Zoro wouldn’t have appreciated. He’d expected to wake up with the swordsman facing away from him, his back turned like usual. To see him asleep facing him instead, in the same positions they’d been in before, was pleasant and a little embarrassing.

Like this, Sanji could see Zoro’s face whilst he slept. Examine the firm lines of his jawbone, the sharp edges of his eyebrows. For all his insults about how Sanji’s curled, the swordsman couldn’t exactly say anything; his own were weird too, just not in as obvious a manner.

Looking at his eyebrows led Sanji’s gaze between them, where they were furrowed together even now. As though Zoro couldn’t stop frowning no matter what; the skin wrinkled together like he was unhappy with something. Perhaps having an odd dream, though no other part of him seemed stiff.

Carefully, Sanji reached up his other hand to trace the spot with one of his fingertips. The first wrinkles Zoro was going to get would definitely be here. Not laughter lines like Sanji would have wanted, but a sign that he never relaxed, was always worried about something. No longer laughing as freely as he used to, not since they’d all ended up separated for two years.

It was times like this that Sanji wanted to ask what exactly had happened to him, but the timing was all wrong. He had so many questions – what happened to his eye? Why didn’t he smile as much? – yet he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Sanji sighed quietly as he rubbed at the frown, trying to make it disappear from the pressure of his fingers against it. Hoping to undo some of the damage, to prevent it becoming a permanent crease in his skin.

Zoro stirred under his touch, the edges of his lips twisting as he turned his head away. Almost breaking their clasped hands apart as he laid on his back, Sanji’s stomach doing a somersault at the thought of him waking up to Sanji staring at him.

He laughed nervously as he let go of Zoro’s hand and pulled on his clothes, leaving the room quickly. That was too close.

Chapter Text

It was rare for Zoro to see Sanji injured. Sure, he’d had his fair share of scrapes but always seemed to come out of it in a much better state than himself. He took better care of his body, Zoro supposed, less likely to be risky since he didn’t want anything to happen to his hands.

A shame then, that he’d got caught off guard and sprained one of his wrists during one of his headstands. Not expecting the enemy to attack the floor under him at that moment, though it was a pretty smart tactic on their part. They’d paid the price for their genius though; kicked to hell and back by an enraged cook as Sanji stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Now that Chopper had seen to him, Sanji’s arm was in a sling and he was in a foul mood. Told not to cook or carry anything, Zoro designated as his helper much to their mutual annoyance.

Getting told what to do by Sanji was frustrating, especially since he never seemed satisfied. ‘You’re stirring too slow’, ‘pay attention to the heat’ – Zoro had already had enough after helping him cook once. He didn’t know how he was going to cope for two weeks, let alone the upper limit of ten.

The only good thing about all this was the fact that he had to help Sanji in the shower. The cook had tried to tell him no, but with his dominant hand hurt he could barely scrub his hair. It had been with great reluctance that Sanji had accepted his assistance; clutching his towel tightly to himself as if worried about something.

Zoro would have been offended by the gesture if he hadn’t been checking him out. Taking every opportunity to glance at his naked body, surprised by how soft his skin was to the touch. Wanting to touch him more and in other places, his own hands slapped away whenever he tried.

Still, Sanji couldn’t keep himself hidden forever. Needing help getting in and out of the bath, glaring at him the whole time. Looking embarrassed when he stared brazenly, turning away as if shy. His whole face red as he hid it behind his hair, his ears giving him away. Hell, Zoro was almost tempted to say it was cute.

Though the situation wasn’t exactly ideal, at least this was keeping Zoro’s sanity intact.

Chapter Text

Zoro didn’t consider himself someone who had any innocence left. Since Kuina’s death it felt as though his own had died along with her; the swordsman forgetting anything about being a child and pushing himself to become stronger no matter what. It had always been his goal anyway but he had become obsessed with it since, wanting to accomplish their shared dream as quickly as possible.

Anything not to do with that got pushed to the wayside: food became a simple source of nutrients, things like friendship and love cast aside, treated as hindrances rather than things he needed. He still managed to make friends of course, but Johnny and Yosaku were like coworkers in a way; people who respected him and stayed by him for his strength more than anything.

When Zoro had met Luffy, that had all seemed to change. The Strawhat crew was something special; a group of people with completely different goals united under the same cause. They didn’t always see eye to eye on things but it didn’t matter. Oddly it felt like a family, and was far more comfortable than he’d expected it to be.

When Sanji joined the crew, it was like all the things Zoro had been pushing away came back to sink their claws into him. A weird fluttering in his chest and lower down whenever he interacted with the snarky cook, a need to compete with him that he hadn’t felt for anyone else. Similar to how things had been with Kuina but different – stronger, more intense. Zoro didn’t quite know what to do with it; ending up arguing and fighting with Sanji at every opportunity just to get his attention.

By the time he figured out what those feelings really were, it was far too late to stop them. Sanji made him feel things he didn’t like, things he couldn’t expend his energy in pursuing. Not only because there was always a crisis at hand but because the damned cook was a self-proclaimed ladies’ man, not sparing men a moment unless he had to.

Still, that didn’t change how Zoro felt butterflies in his stomach at the sight of him, how interacting with him at all made him feel light and comfortable. How he worried for him when they were apart, wanted to see him all the time.

Perhaps there was still some innocence left inside him after all.

Chapter Text

Zoro watched Sanji calmly as he applied his makeup, admiring the deft movements of his fingertips as he blended the edge of his eyeshadow. Not an unusual sight for him now but one that he still couldn’t help staring at. What was weird about this situation was not that the cook was wearing makeup but that he was doing so in his normal suit.

“Still can’t get over how good you are at that.” Zoro murmured, sitting patiently on the sofa while he waited for Sanji to finish getting ready.

Sanji turned in his seat to look at him, eyebrow raised. Drawing Zoro’s attention to the dark blue on his eyelid, the contrast with the light pink on his lips never failing to surprise the swordsman. The kind of colour combination he’d never expected to work but somehow it did.

“You wanna try?” Sanji lifted a tube of lipstick up, tapping the side of it with a finger. Zoro was fairly certain that it wouldn’t look good on him but shrugged. This was a chance to see how Sanji felt about it, to try and get in his head a little more. Besides, if the cook could work such magic on himself then it probably wouldn’t look awful.

“Sure.”

Within moments Sanji had gotten off his seat, one hand cradling Zoro’s chin as he wielded various things in his other.

“Close your eyes.”

Zoro did as he was told, enjoying the gentle touches of Sanji’s hands on his skin. The expert way he smoothed over his eyelids, the strange yet not unpleasant feeling of the lipstick running over his bottom lip. Following Sanji’s instructions without complaint, trusting him fully.

When Sanji pulled back, Zoro was immediately set on edge by the sound of muffled laughter. More than used to the sound of that by now, opening his eye and frowning.

“What?”

Sanji covered his own mouth with a hand as he turned his face away, shoulders shaking.

“N-Nothing! It… suits you.”

As Zoro caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror, his face flushed bright red. What the hell was this idiot thinking?? He grabbed Sanji by the collar of his shirt, shaking him whilst Sanji burst into laughter properly.

“Wash this off now!”

He should have known better. Sanji could work magic on his own face but that didn’t mean he’d choose to be kind to Zoro’s.

Chapter Text

In the men’s quarters, Zoro awkwardly did up the buttons on a shirt. Trying to ignore how tight it seemed on him, how uncomfortable he felt in the damn thing. Focusing on why he was doing this in the first place, what the point of it all was.

Sanji was always going on at him about how poorly he dressed, so why not make a little effort? It was the idiot’s birthday after all – and though he was essentially stealing his clothes he was sure Sanji would appreciate it. The cook would probably complain anyway but something was better than nothing – not like he had money to buy him something.

As he shrugged on the spare suit jacket, Zoro winced. Maybe this was a bad idea. He felt constricted even though he hadn’t buttoned it the whole way, despite the fact that he’d given up midway up his chest.

Why were Sanji’s clothes so damn small? He knew they weren’t the same size but this just seemed bizarre.

Zoro shook his head and attempted to push past the feeling in his chest. The one that told him he looked ridiculous, that Sanji was only going to be angry. Gifts were about the thought behind them, right? Sanji’d get that.

He snuck his way to the galley in silence, somehow avoiding coming across any other members of the crew. Good. He didn’t want to be seen like this anyway; didn’t want the amused questioning over why he had raided Sanji’s locker.

When he walked through the door, Sanji cocked an eyebrow at the sight of him.

“Good lord, what are you doing?”

Not the reaction he was hoping for, but hey; at least this wasn’t rage.

“I, uh…” Zoro was lost for words. How was he supposed to say it? ‘it’s your birthday so I dressed up for you’? No way.

Sanji strode over, looking him up and down. His gaze lingering on Zoro’s chest longer than he’d perhaps intended.

“Take it off before you rip it to shreds.”

Zoro sighed and shook his head as he turned to go back outside. So much for trying to make Sanji happy…

The cook grabbed his arm to stop him, pulling him backwards.

“No, in here.”

It was then that Zoro detected the flirtiness in Sanji’s tone, that he saw the look in his eyes.

Oh, this had gone better than he expected.

Chapter Text

“You’re always cumming on my face,” Sanji grumbled, looking annoyed. “For once I want to do it to you.”

Zoro shrugged.

“Sure.”

For a second Sanji was surprised. He hadn’t been expecting the swordsman to agree, thought he’d refuse or laugh about it. Eagerly he grabbed at his belt, hastily undoing it before Zoro could change his mind.

As Sanji pulled himself out of his pants, Zoro sat cross-legged in front of him. An odd choice but he wasn’t going to complain; reaching for his head to pull him closer. Zoro smirked as he looked up at him, taking his cock in his mouth and starting to suck.

Tongue tracing over every inch, squeezing his throat tight just how Sanji liked it. Driving him crazy.

“Ah, I’m gonna—” Sanji groaned, pulling at the back of Zoro’s head. When he slipped off, Sanji shuddered and came, his eyes closed as he grit his teeth. Forgetting for a moment what the entire point of this had been, lost in his orgasm.

“Shit!” Zoro’s exclamation caused Sanji to open his eyes, surprised to see the swordsman clasping a hand to his face and hissing through his teeth. Sanji’s eyes went wide as he realised what had happened, falling to his knees and grabbing at Zoro’s head to try and get a better look.

“You fucking idiot! You’re supposed to close your eyes!”

Zoro pulled away from him, grumbling to himself. Frustrated, Sanji got to his feet and ran off to get something to try and clean it up, still somewhat shocked by Zoro’s stupidity. This was basic stuff! Why had he let that happen?

Sanji returned with a wet towel, forcibly pulling Zoro’s hand away to bathe at the area.

“This better not blind me,” Zoro groaned, letting Sanji fuss over him. “Already disadvantaged enough as it is.”

Sanji didn’t respond, just dabbing at him and trying to make sure everything was alright. When he’d finished, Zoro blinked rapidly as if to assess the damage. Waiting patiently for the verdict, though he was nervous. In the rush of panic, he hadn’t gotten to see it at all but now he was far more worried about Zoro’s eye than anything else.

Zoro let out a sigh of relief, causing Sanji to bow his head forward and let out his own sigh.

“Next time just finish in my mouth.”

Sanji could live with that.

Chapter Text

“Hey, your shoulders look pretty stiff. C’mere a minute.”

Zoro quirked his eyebrow at Sanji. Not usually one to care about the stiffness of his body after a workout – sleep would solve that, solved everything – he wasn’t sure what was going on in the cook’s head. Probably some kind of dumb prank at his expense, intended to make him look dumb.

Sanji sighed as he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders dramatically as if hurt by the swordsman’s caution.

“I’m offering you a massage, stupid.”

Zoro rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair and stood in front of him, crossing his arms. Still not exactly trusting this, surprised to feel Sanji’s hands immediately land on his back and start digging his fingers into his muscles.

“Ah, yeah, you’re super tense.” Sanji murmured, his lips somehow right next to Zoro’s ear. “Lower your arms, it’ll make it easier.”

He didn’t appreciate being told what to do, but the touches actually felt pretty nice. Each press and poke smoothing out his skin, causing Zoro to relax his arms without bothering to fight him on it. Sanji was oddly pretty good at this, though he hadn’t expected that at all.

A grunt left his lips as Sanji firmly ran his thumb along the edge of one of his shoulderblades, Zoro’s eyes closing despite himself. It was like the stress was being pushed right out of him – he could get used to this.

The cook’s hands danced expertly over his back, over every inch of his skin, almost forcing it to calm under his fingertips and making Zoro feel oddly boneless and sleepy all of a sudden. Well, he was feeling pretty tired anyway; had been planning on taking a nap before Sanji had spoken to him.

Zoro was almost dozing off as he felt Sanji step around to his front, fingers digging into his shoulders from a different angle now, thumbs just above his collarbone.

As he felt a weight press against his chest that was definitely not a hand, Zoro’s eyes snapped open. Seeing Sanji burying his face into it, heart-eyed and with a bit of a nosebleed. Bloody pervert cook!

“Oi, I don’t think this counts as a massage anymore.”

It was Sanji’s turn to tense then, a sheepish smile on his lips as he looked up at him.

“What, no good?”

Zoro sighed. Fine, he’d allow it.

Chapter Text

Watching Sanji cook was like observing a painter create their masterpiece. An artform in and of itself; no motions wasted and everything done with such precision that it felt like magic in a way.

Even something as simple as adding seasoning was done like this; not even a single grain of it beyond the cook’s expectations. Like he was one with every tool at his disposal, able to control the tiniest movements to perfection. Zoro had never seen him taste his creation and reach for a previous ingredient – always jumping to the next one without skipping a beat.

This level of mastery was something he always sought for in his own pursuits – knowing each millimetre of his swords as if they were a part of his own body. Able to wield them no matter the situation, always get the result he was aiming for.

He never said it aloud but Sanji had his respect for this. His slovenly manner with women and annoying attitude aside, every other part of him was filled with a grace that the swordsman couldn’t match. Elegant and calculated to the point that it was frustrating, always for skills that he couldn’t compete with him on. If they ever had a cooking match, he’d definitely be the loser – if Sanji would even let him in the kitchen, that is.

Another thing he wasn’t going to voice, not wanting the idiot to get ahead of himself and have something to lord over him. Then again, it wasn’t like Sanji wouldn’t know it anyway – he just never brought it up either.

As competitive as they were, at least neither of them overstepped their boundaries. Zoro would probably have burst a gut laughing if the cook tried to wield a sword – it was best left alone.

So instead, Zoro just watched. Witnessed that obnoxiously perfect creation slowly come to life, revelling in each twist and turn of the cook’s hands until it was finished. Looking away before Sanji turned around, often pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t notice he’d been staring. Met more often than not with a kick to the side to ‘wake’ him, with sneering words that chastised him for merely being there.

If that side of Sanji suddenly disappeared, Zoro wouldn’t miss it at all. Alas, it seemed as permanent a part of him as his shitty eyebrow.

Oh well, he could live with it.

Chapter Text

When the crew had gotten back together after the Kuma incident, everyone had largely remained the same. Still excitable and friendly, cheerful despite the troubles they had been through.

The only one who seemed drastically different was Zoro: like his emotions had been unplugged from his brain, leaving only anger behind. Small smiles here and there but nothing compared to what they had been before. Almost as though he was afraid of showing how he felt, lest it be turned into a weakness and used against him.

Sanji didn’t know the reason why and to a degree, he didn’t care. The cause wasn’t the issue – the only thing that mattered was setting it straight. He’d have thought that the fact that everyone had grown stronger would have eased the swordsman’s concerns, but his strictness appeared to double instead. With this crew and Captain, such things were necessary but not to this degree. Zoro took it on himself to always be the voice of reason; the dampener on the party when others were trying to relax or just have fun.

Though it wasn’t really his job, the cook took it onto himself to try and fix that: attempting to appease whatever silly whims the bastard had even if they went against his own ideals. Adding poison and razors to his bento for Punk Hazard had just been the start, rising to every provocation and snide gesture just to prove to him that he could calm down a bit. That he was strong enough already, that the others could hold their own now and didn’t need him leaning over them so much. He’d have tried persuading him with words but Zoro wasn’t the type to listen, despite the fact that he used the same tactic to try and keep everyone else under control.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough. Despite his best efforts, Zoro remained cold and stoic. Repressing himself to the point of detriment, pissing the cook off and making him change tactics. He knew the bastard had a thing for him – no matter how much he tried to hide it – so used that to his advantage, visiting the training room when everyone else had gone to bed.

It was after a rough tumble on the metal floor that Sanji finally got what he’d been waiting for: a genuine smile. His body ached and his pride faltered but seeing that was worth it.

Chapter Text

Something was weird about Zoro today. The swordsman had been staring at him from the moment he’d stepped into the galley – a predatory, hungry stare that made Sanji shudder from head to toe. He knew that look all too well by now but seeing it start at breakfast had put him on edge.

When Zoro got into one of those moods, he knew exactly what was going to happen. Usually it wasn’t long before Sanji found himself shoved up against a surface but even the damn mossball wouldn’t be so reckless in the middle of the day, right?

As the hours passed, Sanji felt more and more paranoid. Every time he turned a corner he expected the swordsman to be there, ready to pounce on him despite the others being around. Weirdly his absence only made Sanji more anxious – not about being found out or caught unawares but itching for the moment that Zoro would finally snap.

By the time night fell the cook was feeling incredibly frustrated, on the edge of tumbling Zoro into a wall himself. He felt oddly played with and he disliked it; the way that his entire body seemed to be screaming out for Zoro’s touch.

It was as he was doing his final clean of the kitchen that Zoro burst through the galley door, stomping his heavy boots into the sanctity of Sanji’s domain and yanking him into his arms.

Sanji was so keyed up that he didn’t bother arguing about it, clutching back at him just as desperately as Zoro’s head descended on his chest. He tore at his shirt with his teeth to rip it open, and even as Sanji’s buttons went flying the cook didn’t care.

The hurried tryst against his kitchen counter left him speechless and shaking, his breaths ragged when Zoro finally pulled away. The look was gone from his face now but he hadn’t stopped staring, his jaws open as he sucked in oxygen. Sanji didn’t know what to say, embarrassed by his own lack of composure, and then Zoro froze up for a moment, his eyebrows knitting before he coughed into his own hand.

The sight of his shirt button sitting on Zoro’s palm made Sanji finally break his silence, bursting into laughter at the look of surprise on Zoro’s face.

“If you were still hungry you shoulda said something. You didn’t have to eat my clothes.”