The first thought Zoro had upon meeting Sanji was Fuck, that guy is hot. The second thought was Fuck, that guy is annoying. Those two things hadn’t changed over the time they’ve been crewmates. Zoro still thought Sanji was hot and annoying. Most of the annoying behavior Zoro didn’t mind too much. He liked being challenged and people standing up to him, even if they were wrong. But the constant throwing himself at women shit that Sanji did irritated the piss out of Zoro. He was sick of the heart in the eyes, outbursts of adoration, and bowing to their every whim. It happened constantly to Nami, Robin and every female that they met. Zoro wanted to yell at Sanji, “Yes, we get it, you like women.”
Which was why Zoro choked on his beer when he heard Sanji chatting up a man.
Zoro yanked off his bandana and stuffed it in his mouth, his eyes watering as he coughed. Dressed in his usual, comfortable long coat, red sash, and green haramaki, he was hidden behind a wide stone support pillar at a single table in a local tavern. He’d picked that seat when he’d wandered into the bar mid-afternoon because he could lean his chair back against the pillar and look out at the view. A floor-to-ceiling window that stretched across one wall in the tavern overlooking the sea.
Dagger Isles were aptly named as they appeared to be a series of dagger tips sticking out from the ocean. The Thousand Sunny had docked that morning at the biggest isle. The terrain was rough and mountainous, with houses, shops, hotels, and other businesses carved right into the mountainside. Transportation up and down was by bubble lifts. The wind whipped through the isles at all hours with a low hum of vibration against the rocks.
Zoro had Beli, for once, and was on his eighth beer of the afternoon, simply enjoying the view. A band played soft music from one corner of the tavern. Nicer quality tables and chairs sprinkled the room and the dark wood bar had plush stools. Gas lighting provided a cozy glow against the carved stone walls. The patrons were a mix of locals and visitors.
The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon when Sanji had come into the tavern. Zoro recognized Sanji’s voice immediately, speaking with someone unknown. With his back to the pillar and the main part of the tavern, Zoro couldn’t see Sanji nor who he was with, but they seemed to have taken a table close to Zoro on the other side of the pillar. Zoro didn’t feel like having his evening ruined by fighting with Sanji about something undoubtedly stupid, so he kept his mouth shut.
Sanji and his companion – male and cultured-sounding – were talking about food when they arrived. An hour later, they were still talking about it. The taste of food, cooking food, spicing up food, what food paired with what other food, and on and on. They paused only to order drinks and, of course, food, extending the food conversation in a new direction. Zoro held his fingers up to the waitress for two more beers the next time she wandered past, to help drown the mind-numbingly boring conversation. If this was how Sanji spent a free evening, Zoro felt sad for him.
But then the tone changed. There was an undercurrent that Zoro almost missed. The food conversation drifted onto dessert. Zoro thought he was going to get another hour of the best way to bake a chocolate cake – apparently adding coffee made it better – and had started to slug back his beer when Sanji said, “The dessert I had in mind involves less… formal attire.”
That’s when Zoro choked on his beer. First, because it was the worst pickup line he’d probably ever heard. And second, because Sanji had said it to a man.
Zoro considered flirting to be walking up to a hot guy and asking if he was interested. If Zoro got What do you have in mind? in response, he knew he was getting laid. Zoro thought being straightforward was better than playing stupid romance games, where people talked around sex without saying what they wanted. Zoro preferred to know if it was a yes or if he was wasting his time. And while he’d gotten hit on every once in a while over the years and had to endure some terrible pick up lines, Sanji’s took the dessert-topic-appropriate cake.
Apparently, the guy was into bad come-ons, because he said, “That is a tasty offer. Let us take this someplace more private, shall we?”
Zoro heard the scrape of chairs against the floor. He waited a moment until footsteps walked off before jumping to his feet and peering around the pillar. He needed to see what kind of guy wound Sanji’s clock. He spotted Sanji’s familiar blond head winding through the tables, heading for the door. The guy was in front of him. From what Zoro could make out, the guy was about half a foot taller than Sanji, had black hair, broad shoulders, and was wearing a suit.
Zoro debated on going after them, to get a better look. But the only thing outside the tavern was the bubble lift and waiting area. There were no good places to hide. Plus, Sanji had great observational haki and he’d probably notice Zoro trying to spy on him. Instead, Zoro sank back down into his chair and shook his head in wonder. Sanji and a guy. Mr. Ladies Man was into guys. Or at least that guy. But why that guy? It couldn’t only be his attractiveness. They ran into hot guys all the time on the various islands where the Sunny docked.
Zoro took a swig of his remaining beer, gazing out the window again as he let his mind ponder the situation. Could it have been the suit? Or the guy’s manners? Sanji was into shit like that for himself. Zoro could never figure out why anyone would want to fight in a suit, as it restricted movement. Zoro was surprised Sanji didn’t tear a hole in his crotch every time he did a split kick. But if froofy clothing was all it took to get into Sanji’s trousers, he didn’t let on in Dressrosa.
Zoro tapped his finger on the side of the glass. The guy must also be a chef, Zoro figured. Who else could spend that much time talking about nothing but food? Maybe the key to Sanji’s gay chastity belt was knowing how to cook. Could that be it? Did Sanji go for guys who were good in the kitchen? If Zoro learned how to cook, would he be eligible to fuck? Annoying or not, Sanji was still hot and Zoro wouldn’t mind a go or two. Zoro had elaborate jerk-off fantasies to what those insanely powerful hips and legs could do in bed. Having someone on the crew to scratch the occasional itch when they were too long at sea would be great. Zoro was all for casual sex and it appeared Sanji didn’t mind a no strings bed partner.
Trouble was, Zoro was terrible in the kitchen. He knew that water was boiling when it bubbled and that was about it. He never really cared about what he ate or what it tasted like until Sanji started putting food in front of him. Now, he could tell the difference between the good and bad stuff when he ate out, and that he liked some things better than others, but that didn’t mean he knew about the shit Sanji and that guy were talking about, like smoothness, texture, tang, richness, and a million other words that went over Zoro’s head.
Another problem: who would teach Zoro to cook? The galley was Sanji’s domain. He wouldn’t allow anyone else in there without good reason. Zoro debated on whether or not he could tell Sanji the reason was to get laid, but then he realized he’d prefer it to be a challenge. Could he learn to cook well enough that Sanji would want to throw Zoro over the nearest barrel and fuck his brains out? The anticipation of winning made Zoro have to adjust his trousers.
It still didn’t solve the issue of who could teach him how to cook. Zoro could learn a few things here and there at the islands they stopped at, in between fighting powerful bullies and overthrowing governments. But while Zoro had a lot of patience, that would take too long even for him.
Maybe the solution still lay with Sanji. Zoro could conceivably ask the cook for lessons under the pretext of wanting to learn the useful skill. It would create a challenge within a challenge, as well, because Zoro would have to put up with Sanji’s annoying ass while learning. Zoro could win twice.
A smile spread across his face as he brought his beer to his lips. Winning twice sounded very good. All that was left to do was wait until they were on the ship again before pouncing. Zoro had plenty of time for another beer.
Zoro got lucky himself on Dagger Isles. He ran into a redhead that he found appealing, asked if the guy was interested, and spent the night trying to break a bed at the hotel. The next morning, relaxed and pleased with himself, Zoro made his way back to the Thousand Sunny. He liked Dagger Isles because it was hard for things to move on him. The bubble lift went up and down and that was about it.
Zoro actually met Sanji at the bottom of the lift to the docks, as Sanji stepped out of another bubble a short way down the line. Zoro tried to see if he could tell that Sanji got laid. Sanji was still dressed pristinely, with a tucked in blue shirt and knotted tie. The constant wind tossed his blond hair around, so Zoro couldn’t tell if it had been mussed from sex. Sanji’s hands were in his pockets and a cigarette dangled from his lips. He looked like he always did, damn it.
“Get lost again?” Sanji asked, ambling up to him. He blew a puff of smoke into the wind.
“No. Just heading back.” Zoro couldn’t see any telltale love bites hiding beneath Sanji’s collar. He wondered if Sanji could even get them with his exoskeleton. He knew that the exoskeleton had dampened Sanji’s pain to nearly nothing and that he didn’t get that hurt anymore. But love bites were more about pleasure than pain. Shit, maybe Sanji couldn’t feel pleasure, either. Maybe he’d gone off with a guy to find out if a bit of roughness would allow him to feel and he learned that it didn’t. Zoro suddenly felt anxious on Sanji’s behalf. “You can still feel things, right?”
Sanji gave him a puzzled look. “What the hell are you talking about, marimo?”
“You know, because of your exoskeleton. You can still feel, right? Pleasure, that sort of thing?” Zoro wanted to know the answer and not because he was trying to eventually get Sanji into bed. Even if they didn’t always get along, Sanji was nakama. Zoro worried about all of them whether they knew it or not.
“What kind of question is that?” Sanji said.
And this was a prime example of why Zoro found Sanji annoying. Here Zoro was concerned and Sanji was giving him a hard time. “Just answer it, cook.”
“Don’t know why it’s suddenly of interest to you.”
“Do I need to beat it out of you?” Zoro growled, hand on the hilt of a katana.
“Who pissed in your orange juice this morning?” Sanji took a drag on his cigarette, looking irritated and something else. Something sad. “Yes, I can, in the moment. Fleetingly, but it’s there. Any more dumbass questions or can we go now? I’m tired of this wind smacking me in the face.”
“How fleeting is fleetingly?” Zoro asked, as they started walking toward the docks.
“What is this, an interrogation?” Sanji fell into step beside him. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I would hate for you not to have that anymore,” Zoro told him truthfully.
Sanji went quiet for a long moment, as they dodged around another crew disembarking. Finally, he said, “Nothing lingers.”
Bruising kisses, love bites, the pleasant soreness Zoro still felt, sometimes marks around his ankles and wrists or elsewhere, these things lingered after a good night of sex. What could be felt in the moment mattered more, but sometimes it was nice that certain feelings lasted. “That sucks.”
Sanji shrugged, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. “Better than nothing.”
“Were you worried about that? You know, after this whole modification thing happened?” Zoro asked, glancing at him again. Sanji still slouched with his hands in pockets. It was difficult to tell how Sanji felt sometimes. He cared loudly for others but kept his own feelings close to his chest. It didn’t help that Zoro didn’t try that often to find out how he felt.
“Some.” Sanji stepped over a length of rope snaking its way across the pier. The Sunny was within view, tied up to the dock.
This would be a perfect time to find out about the guy. Zoro debated on bringing it up. They didn’t have real talks very often. Both of them preferred to deal with things on their own. Zoro decided to be vague. “You must’ve found someone to test it out, then.”
Sanji’s lips curved in bemusement. “Are you checking the notches on my bunk?”
“What? No.” Zoro rethought his answer, as this could be a challenge. “Maybe.”
Sanji chuckled. “I don’t kiss and tell, marimo.”
Zoro didn’t either. Still… “I probably won.”
Sanji scoffed. “Your idea of flirting is grunting in someone’s direction.”
Zoro grinned. “Works, doesn’t it?”
“For Neanderthals,” Sanji said. “Some people like to have a conversation or two before taking someone to their bed.”
Zoro made note of it. Sanji liked to talk first. Though Zoro had guessed it from the non-stop blabber Sanji and that guy engaged in last night.
They reached the Thousand Sunny and went up the gangplank. Franky waved to them in greeting from the rigging before continuing his repairs. Robin was further up the rigging, helping him with many hands. Sanji peeled off and headed for the galley. Zoro wandered to the men’s quarters to change clothes. His thoughts focused on the conversation he and Sanji’d had. He felt bad for the cook, that his exoskeleton came with a price. Sanji hadn’t asked for it. Zoro had gotten the rundown on why Sanji’s body changed on him back in Wano, when they’d discussed why Sanji had wanted Zoro to kill him. Sanji had been tense and unhappy and he’d had a hard time hiding it. Zoro remembered making light of it and Sanji storming off angrily, telling Zoro that he’d never understand. Zoro hadn’t gone after him, and now he was starting to regret it after what he’d learned today.
But he couldn’t change the past. Zoro put aside his troubled thoughts for now. He had training to do.
The Thousand Sunny caught the strong wind around Dagger Isles and made fast headway toward their next destination. Nami had them following a zigzag course between log pose destinations, allowing her to chart the islands and them to explore for information about the final Road Poneglyph. It was unknown how long they’d be at sea before hitting the next island.
Zoro ambled into the galley after cleaning up post-morning training. He knew Sanji would be there as it was nearing the time he’d begin preparing lunch. The galley was divided in half by a bar counter with bar length bench seating. The dining side had a table large enough for the crew, along with a couch that stretched between the main deck wall and Chopper’s infirmary. A service elevator stood at the ready beside the door to the dry storage, to carry food down to the Aquarium Bar.
The kitchen portion of the galley held an oven, stovetop, wide refrigerator and plenty of cabinets and counter space. A sink stood in the center of a prep counter anchored to the bar. Sanji was removing items from the refrigerator when Zoro entered. He wore yellow today, sans suit coat and tie. “Lunch isn’t for another hour, marimo.”
“I know.” It had been two days since they set sail. Zoro had waited long enough. “I came to help you make it.”
Sanji pulled his head from behind the refrigerator door to stare at Zoro incredulously. “You came to do what?”
“Help.” Zoro set his katanas on the bartop. “I want to learn how to cook.”
Sanji continued to stare at him. “Did you drop your weights on your head?”
“No. I’m being serious.” Zoro folded his arms and leaned casually against the side of the bar, in the walkthrough between the kitchen and dining area. “You’re not always here and it’d be good to know how to cook.”
Sanji’s expression closed off fast. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.”
Shit. Zoro had stepped in it. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sounded like it.” Sanji turned his back to Zoro and continued taking things from the refrigerator. “Get out of my kitchen.”
Zoro didn’t want to fail before he’d even started, but his mouth was quicker than his brain. “I can’t believe you’re still sensitive about running off to get married.”
“I didn’t run off to get married,” Sanji hissed at him. “I went to tell the asshole of the century that I wasn’t going to be a pawn in whatever sick game he was playing.”
Zoro had pushed Sanji’s leaving aside, even though it had irritated the hell out of him at the time. Pekoms had told the crew why Sanji felt he’d had to go. Zoro had never brought it up after Sanji was back, and Sanji hadn’t either. But apparently, they were going to have this conversation now. “I know you didn’t have a choice–”
“Damned right I didn’t have a choice.” Sanji slammed a bag of carrots on the prep counter. “That bastard was going to kill the man who actually treated me like a son, like my existence mattered. I would’ve let him lock me in a dungeon with a mask on my head again for eternity to protect Zeff. But all he wanted me to do was get married.”
Zoro caught a word that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “What do you mean by again?”
Sanji kicked the refrigerator door shut and began arranging vegetables on the prep counter with agitation. “Didn’t you know? Daddy dearest thought his third son was a worthless waste of space, but instead of killing me, he threw me in the castle dungeon and clamped an iron mask over my head so that no one would have to see my useless face. I was barely eight years old. Spent six months that way, with the added bonus of getting beaten to a pulp by my brothers on a regular basis.”
A dark fury washed over Zoro. His hands curled into fists so tight that his blunt fingernails dug into his palms, causing them to bleed. “I will end him.”
Sanji’s eyes shot to Zoro and the anger in his features melted away. “Idiot. He’s not worth it.”
“You are.”
Surprise and something else, something Zoro couldn’t define, colored Sanji’s face. He jerked his gaze away and began sorting vegetables again. “Stupid marimo. Stop bleeding all over my floor.”
Zoro uncurled his fingers, walked over to the sink near Sanji, and flipped on the water with his wrist. He washed the blood from his palms with soap and let the water run over the straight cuts until they stopped bleeding altogether. The cold running water also cooled his temper, though he tucked the information into the back of his mind. One day, Judge Vinsmoke would meet the sharp edge of Zoro’s blades.
Sanji slapped a pair of thin gloves beside Zoro, once Zoro had turned off the sink. “Dry your hands and put these on.”
Zoro snagged the towel from the rack near his knees and glanced quizzically at the gloves. “What’re they for?”
“You want to learn how to cook, you’re wearing gloves.” Sanji hip-checked him out of the way and set a strainer bowl in the bottom of the sink. “I don’t want you to start bleeding again on my food.”
Zoro’s mood perked. “You’re going to teach me?”
“You’re the one who asked, dumbass.” Sanji began washing colorful peppers. “Put the gloves on. When I hand you one of these, I want you to pat it dry with that fresh towel over there and lay it on the cutting board.”
Zoro grabbed the gloves. The one hundred eighty degree turn in temperament wasn’t unusual in their relationship. It was why they were actually friends. No argument lasted for long. “Just so you know, I don’t know how to do any of this.”
“I’m aware.” Sanji handed him a pepper. “You’d eat rocks if someone put it on a plate and said it was food.”
“Heh.” Zoro didn’t take offense, because before he’d tasted Sanji’s cooking it was true. “Only if you made it.”
Faint pink spread across Sanji’s cheeks. “Shut up and do what I told you.”
Zoro grinned, as the last of the tension in the air vanished. Operation cooking-his-way-into-Sanji’s-pants was on.
Zoro learned very quickly that cooking was hard. At least, Sanji’s way of cooking. It wasn’t just about slapping edible food on a plate. There had to be a balance of nutrition, tastes that compliment each other, that appearance had value. Zoro spent the first week doing little but fetching, watching, and listening. Sanji wouldn’t trust him to do anything else, until Zoro understood that cooking was both a skill and an art.
Zoro thought he’d be bored, doing so little, but it turned out Sanji’s passion for cooking was fascinating. Zoro didn’t spend a ton of time watching Sanji do anything and this came as a surprise. Sanji’s animation, his enthusiasm, his precision, and his intellect was enthralling. Sanji radiated joy while he was cooking. They still argued, because that’s part of who they were, but Sanji seemed happy to be teaching Zoro what he knew.
“When you cut, the slices need to be exact and even,” Sanji told Zoro, demonstrating on a hunk of beef. He was dressed in pale yellow shirtsleeves today, unbuttoned at the collar. “It doesn’t matter if you’re dicing an onion or cutting a filet. Uneven cutting is not only sloppy, it can change the taste and texture of the meal.”
Zoro never bothered cutting his opponents evenly with his swords. Still… “It can’t be that difficult.”
Sanji gave him a pitying look, then offered him the knife, hilt first. “Give it a try.”
Zoro’s brows climbed. “You’re letting me do something besides watch?”
“You’ve come back every day for every meal prep. I think by now you understand this isn’t a game.”
To Zoro, it was a game, or rather a challenge, but he also understood what Sanji was getting at. A cook’s job wasn’t simple or unimportant. Zoro accepted the knife and stepped in front of the cutting board. He’d washed his hands repeatedly throughout the meal prep, even though the only thing he’d done so far was take things out of the refrigerator.
Sanji was right-handed, while Zoro was predominantly left-handed. Zoro flipped the cut of beef over, set his right hand atop of it to keep it still, and used his left hand to slice the same area as Sanji had with the knife. The meat cut easily and he pushed the sliced piece aside. He went to cut a second slice.
“Smaller,” Sanji corrected, leaning a hip against the counter beside him. “Your first piece was thinner than that.”
Zoro adjusted the knife where he thought was wide enough. Sanji clucked his tongue. “Still smaller. Weren’t you paying attention?”
“I was paying attention.” Zoro eyed the piece of meat he’d already sliced. It looked about the same as where his knife was now resting. “I don’t see any difference.”
Sanji reached past him to pick up the slice he’d cut and balanced it on its edge above the hunk of beef. Zoro’s knife appeared to be three millimeters farther than his first cut. “See it now?”
“It’s barely different.” Zoro adjusted the knife and then cut.
“Different is different. It needs to be the same.”
“Seems like a pain in the ass for a few millimeters,” Zoro said. He tried to find the exact distance for a new slice. It was more difficult than it should be.
“Does it matter if you lift your obscene amounts of weight a few millimeters higher each time?” Sanji picked up the first slice again and aligned it to the meat, to give Zoro a guide.
“Yeah,” Zoro muttered, acceding to Sanji’s logic. “But does it really throw things off that much?”
“It can.” Sanji kept assisting him as Zoro cut slice after slice. “Take this beef we’re slicing. We’re going to be cooking it in a pan and if it isn’t even, then some pieces aren’t going to be cooked as thoroughly as the others. This can knock off the flavor of the final dish.”
“Hn.” Zoro took his time to get it right. When he was done, he felt weirdly proud of himself. “Now what?”
“Now we heat up the pan.” Sanji motioned for Zoro to join him at the four burner stovetop. He unhooked the cabinet beneath the stovetop and removed a large, semi-flat pan. He set it on the front burner and flicked on the heat. “You want the flame on a medium setting. It’s tempting to set it high to get the pan to heat faster, but that can warp the pan over time. Most things are cooked in a pan on medium heat anyway, because it gives you better control over the outcome.”
“Why don’t we throw the meat in now?” Zoro asked, curious.
“Preheating the pan means we don’t have any cold spots when we add the meat. It’s for the same reason we slice the meat precisely, so all pieces cook evenly.” Sanji reached into a cabinet nearby and took out a bottle of oil. “Some chefs add the cooking oil as the pan is preheating and some wait until it is heated. I prefer to do it as it’s preheating as it prevents splashback. Getting splashed with hot oil hurts like hell.”
Zoro watched as Sanji poured a swirl of oil into the pan, coating the inside. “Does it still hurt you?”
“Yeah. It stings.” Sanji capped the oil and set it aside. “It goes away after I rinse off the oil. When I was learning, I used to have burns all over my hands and wrists.”
Zoro glanced at Sanji’s hands. He could see the remnants of scars on his pale skin. “Are all those from cooking?”
Sanji held up a hand and turned it back and forth. “A majority of them. A few are from fighting. One or two are from sword practice when I was a kid.”
Zoro was surprised. “Sword practice?”
“I didn’t start using my legs as my weapons until Zeff told me that my hands were precious.” Sanji brought the cutting board of sliced meat over from the prep counter. “The Vinsmokes are warriors. It was expected that I learn how to wield a sword. Was never any good at it.”
Zoro tried to picture a younger version of Sanji wielding a sword. He’d seen Sanji fighting with knives, so it wasn’t impossible. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that. You, with a sword. It’s probably not a great memory, though.”
“No.” Sanji slid the meat into the now hot pan. The oil sizzled. He cut a sideways glance at Zoro. His voice was hesitant when he continued. “But if you want me to, I’d be okay with it. You’re learning how to cook. I could learn to wield a sword better.”
The words made something unknown curl in Zoro’s chest. A sort of pleased-excited-buoyant feeling that also caused a hitch. “I’d be honored to show you.”
Color infused Sanji’s face, likely from the heat coming off the sizzling pan. “Okay, then.”
Zoro turned his attention to the meat cooking in the oil. “How do you know when this is done?”
“Practice, mostly,” Sanji replied after clearing his throat. “Different types of meat cook at different speeds, and it also depends on how well done you want it. Like with steaks, you can temper the meat and compare it to how your hand feels.”
“What do you mean?”
“Here.” Sanji took Zoro’s hand and turned it over, cupping it with his left hand underneath. “Touch your forefinger and thumb together lightly.”
Zoro did as told. Sanji touched the soft spot beneath Zoro’s thumb. “Feel this. It’s very tender. This is the texture of raw meat.”
Zoro used his other finger to touch where Sanji said. There was give to the muscle.
“Now, touch the middle finger to your thumb,” Sanji instructed. “This is what rare feels like.”
Zoro changed fingers. Sanji touched the base of his thumb and Zoro did the same. “Huh. It does feel different.”
Sanji nodded. “Now, do your ring finger.” Zoro switched fingers. Sanji and Zoro both pressed on the muscle. “This is medium. Can you tell how it’s getting tighter?”
Zoro suddenly became very aware of the fact that Sanji was touching him. Though Sanji’s words were benign, the combination of fingers and tightness had taken on a sexual connotation in Zoro’s mind. “Yeah,” Zoro answered, though it sounded a bit breathy to his ears.
“Now you’re pinkie.” Sanji waited for Zoro to switch to the last finger. It caused Zoro to make a loose fist. Sanji’s finger probed against Zoro’s flesh. “Feel the firmness? That’s well done.”
Zoro was the one who was done. He was holding his hand like he was going to give Sanji a hand job and Sanji was talking about feeling the firmness. Zoro was glad he was wearing his usual long coat to hide the erection now tenting his trousers.
Sanji glanced up at him as if waiting for Zoro’s response, still cupping Zoro’s right hand, his fingertip pressed against the base of Zoro’s thumb on his opposite palm. Zoro heard his breath catch, saw his eyes darken. The lust Zoro felt must be written clearly on his face.
Abruptly, Sanji leapt back, dropping Zoro’s hand, turning away from him. “I think we’re finished for today, marimo.” He grabbed a fork and paid very close attention to what was happening in the pan on the stove.
Zoro tugged at the collar of his coat, even though it was open. He thought about pressing, seeing if Sanji was interested, but by the way Sanji was blatantly ignoring him Zoro knew it was too soon. But there was hope. Zoro had seen Sanji reacting to him. He was definitely not one hundred percent straight.
“I gotta piss anyway,” Zoro said to diffuse the situation. What he was actually going to do was hide in the head to jerk off. He grabbed his katanas from where they rested on the bartop and departed.
Zoro went back to the galley the next morning for more cooking lessons, because he was stubborn and he wanted to win his self-set challenges. The atmosphere was uncomfortable for a short while until Zoro grated the cheese wrong, which kicked off an argument that made everything fine again. More time passed, with Zoro present for each meal prep doing hands-on learning. Sanji was a strict taskmaster and a bit of a bully, which secretly thrilled Zoro. Sanji didn’t hold back with his kicks or smacks on the backs of Zoro’s hands or wrists with whatever utensil he’d been holding. It boded well for Zoro’s future bedroom encounters.
The Thousand Sunny’s sails were full, the Straw Hat’s jolly roger fluttering high on the mast. Jinbe’s course allowed them to catch the full breeze. Nami’s mikan trees cast shadows on the upper deck of the Sunny as the sun beamed upon them. Zoro stood shirtless and barefoot in the heat of the afternoon. Two of his katanas were leaning against the side rail, near Robin’s garden. Sanji held Wado in his hands.
Dressed in an untucked blue shirt and navy trousers, with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, Sanji concentrated on the instructions Zoro was giving him. Zoro could see the slight furrow to his brow, the strain in his forearms as he drew the sword, made the cut, and then re-sheathed the sword with quick movement.
“Gohonn me Kesa Geri,” Zoro said, leading Sanji to the fifth kata. They were practicing iaido, a non-combat form of swordsmanship that focused on precision and mindfulness.
Sanji had picked up the movements and names of the katas easily, but his form and harmony needed a lot of work. They’d been practicing off and on for a couple of weeks, usually in the afternoon between lunch cleanup and dinner prep.
Zoro had been surprised when Sanji had woken him from a nap on the foredeck one afternoon with the demand, “You going to teach me swordsmanship or what, mosshead?”
Zoro had readily complied. He’d been looking forward to it, actually, but he’d thought maybe Sanji had changed his mind. It was a touchy subject, after all.
Now, they stood on the upper deck, running katas in the afternoon sun. Below them, the sounds of the crew going about their day drifted to them on the breeze. “Nanahon me Sanpo Giri.”
Zoro watched as Sanji took two steps forward before drawing Wado from its sheath. Sanji sliced the sword to the left, then forward, then held it above his head. “Hold,” Zoro told him. Sanji didn’t move. Zoro moved behind him to reposition his arms. “Don’t lean so far back. Let the sword do the blocking, not your body.”
“I’m used to getting out of the way.” Sanji had sweat running down the side of his face, dripping from his jawline onto his collar. “Though I could probably let an opponent’s sword hit me now and it wouldn’t do anything.”
“Just because you broke Queen’s blade doesn’t guarantee you can’t get cut in the future.” Zoro crouched to adjust Sanji’s stance. His hands slid over the powerful muscles in Sanji’s calves. “You don’t even know if Queen was using armament haki.”
“Hn.” Sanji’s arms visibly trembled as he continued holding the unfamiliar position. “Want to test it?”
“No, we’re not going to test it.” Zoro circled around Sanji and tilted his elbows higher again. “I would like both you and my katanas to remain in one piece.”
“Chicken.”
Zoro flicked Sanji beneath the chin. “Finish the form, target-brow.”
Sanji grinned as Zoro stepped back and finished the sixth kata. “Admit it, you’re just afraid you’re never going to beat me again.”
“Tch. Stupid cook. I can still kick your ass across this ship.”
“Liar.”
Zoro snagged Kitetsu and drew on Sanji in a flash. Sanji surprised him by pulling Wado and blocking with a clang of katana against katana. Sanji’s eyes danced in the sunlight’s reflection against the raised blade.
Zoro’s heart soared and a grin stretched across his lips. Then, they were moving, sword ringing against sword, Sanji using the katas Zoro had taught him to block and strike. He was slow and awkward, and Zoro could disarm him at any time, but he didn’t. He was having too much fun. Sanji’s laugh curled around him like a warm hug when Zoro smacked him in the rear with the flat of Kitetsu’s blade. Sanji flipped one-handed out of reach and reset. The wind tousled his blond hair. A bright smile lit his face.
“Fuck, you’re handsome.” Zoro didn’t prevent his thoughts from escaping his lips. It was the truth, and he wanted Sanji to know it. Sanji spent so much time throwing himself at women who didn’t give him the time of day that it was possible he’d never heard it in his life.
Zoro watched as a vivid flush spread across Sanji’s face, neck, and onto his ears. It looked like it spread down his chest, as well, beneath the open vee of his shirt. The smile had disappeared, which left Zoro feeling somewhat bereft. “You– why– shut up,” Sanji stammered. “You’re not going to win by throwing fake compliments at me, dickhead.”
“Not a fake compliment,” Zoro told him, enjoying seeing Sanji squirm. “And I was going to win anyway.”
A familiar scowl appeared, though the blush still remained. “Not gonna happen.” He left Wado sheathed and launched a new attack with a series of kicks that sent Zoro staggering. Zoro laughed. Fighting with Sanji never got old.
They battled for a while on the upper deck until Nami screamed at them to knock it off. Sanji immediately went into whipping boy mode, bowing to her wishes. “Yes, Nami-swan! I will do anything that you ask of me, my sweet!”
Zoro sheathed Kitetsu with a roll of his eyes. “You’re pathetic.”
“I appreciate Nami-san for her wisdom.”
“You appreciate her for her boobs.”
Sanji aimed a kick to Zoro’s head. “Don’t talk about her like that!”
Zoro blocked, and then were off again until Nami screamed a second time. Sanji immediately ran off to grovel in apology. Zoro huffed and sheathed Kitetsu. “You still have Wado, moron,” he grumbled. Luckily, he knew the blade would be safe at Sanji’s side. He’d pick it up when he went to help prep for dinner. In the meantime, a shower and a nap beckoned.
Voices floated into the galley through the propped open door to the main deck. A breeze stirred through the kitchen, bringing with it relief from the heat. Sweat trickled along Zoro’s spine as he julienned carrots at the prep counter. Dinner prep was underway. The summer weather they’d sailed into wouldn’t put a halt to hungry stomachs.
Sanji moved around him, humming softly as he worked. Zoro ran through his list of tasks that Sanji had given him for this evening’s meal. He had already cleaned and cut the potatoes, and they were boiling on the stovetop. He’d snapped the green beans, sliced the chayote and cucumbers. The spinach was washed. Once he’d finished the carrots, he needed to blanch the vegetables.
Zoro ran through his index of information packed into his mind. Over the past few months, he’d learned a lot. Though his technique still lagged, the knowledge was there. Sanji was a thorough teacher. Zoro tried to chase down the definition of blanching in his brain. “Shit.”
“Hm?” Sanji slid easily around him, picking up more dried, sliced banana leaves with which to roll rice. They’d learned to dance together in the kitchen, not avoiding each other or dodging one another, but to move in harmony within the small space.
“Trying to remember what blanching is.” Zoro kept slicing the rest of the carrots into even, thin strips. He caught Sanji about to tell him and he cut him off. “No, don’t tell me. I got this. Right now, I’m julienning the carrots. Reducing is to boil off the liquid. Macerate is to steep it in liquid or sugar. Saute is to cook quickly in hot fat. Flambe involves alcohol. Simmer is to cook liquid over a low heat. Caramelizing is cooking vegetables or fruits until they become brown and sweet. And blanch is to… briefly boil vegetables or fruit. Ha! Got it.”
Zoro turned his head to grin at Sanji. Sanji’s expression of approval and appreciation made Zoro feel good. Sanji really enjoyed teaching Zoro and Zoro found himself not wanting to let Sanji down. There were days that Zoro knew Sanji doubted himself and his worth, and the appreciation Zoro saw meant that Sanji felt seen.
“I’m going to have to call you Chef Zoro soon,” Sanji said with warmth in his voice, leaning close to check the evenness of Zoro’s julienned carrots.
Sanji’s words and his nearness caused Zoro’s heart to speed up and his palms started to sweat. Zoro was the one who was supposed to be seducing Sanji, not the other way around. He didn’t think Sanji even realized what he was doing to Zoro. It was both maddening and arousing, but Zoro wasn’t going to act on it.
Zoro had gone into the challenge thinking about sex, and he still wanted that. But now he also wanted this new relationship they had built, this camaraderie and ease they had around each other in the kitchen. Sure, they still argued and fought, it was part of their nature. But Zoro felt he really knew Sanji now in a way he hadn’t before and the time they spent together during meal prep was precious to him. He didn’t want it to be just about the chance to get laid.
“I need to finish wrapping the lontongs and boil them. The potatoes should be done soon.” Sanji went back to what he was doing at the other counter, giving instructions over his shoulder. “Blanch your vegetables, then you can fry the tempeh.”
Zoro smiled to himself as he gave the traditional response, “Yes, Chef.”
A storm rocked the Thousand Sunny, sending waves crashing over the sides of the ship. The sails were lashed and Jinbe manned the helm while tied securely to its base. He kept the nose of the Sunny pointed toward the rising waves to stop the ship from capsizing. Zoro was lashed to the bench behind him, ready to run instructions to the rest of the crew if necessary. Safety lines stretched the length of the ship, giving them something to hold onto against the raging storm.
The wind howled and hard rain stung Zoro’s cheeks. He was soaked to the bone, even though he was wearing his rain slicker. Nami had seen the storm coming and they’d had plenty of time to prepare. Now they needed to ride it out to the other side.
Sanji came up beside Zoro, hands on the safety line. He tapped Zoro on the shoulder. “Trade!” he shouted to be heard about the roar of the storm.
Zoro had been outside for hours. He was reluctant to leave. Jinbe wasn’t going anywhere. Of course, the Fish-man had little trouble with being waterlogged. “I don’t need to trade!” Zoro shouted back.
Sanji’s already wet face twisted into a scowl. “Go and warm up, shithead! I can’t get sick! You can!”
Zoro wanted to refuse, but he felt chilled. He didn’t need Sanji to rub it in his face for being right if he got sick. Grumbling, he untied himself from the bench and passed off the tether to Sanji. Sanji balanced easily on the slick deck as the Sunny rocked wildly. Zoro grasped the safety line tightly with his hands and made his way down to the steps, across the main deck, and up to the galley.
Warmth greeted him behind the galley door, as did Chopper, Brook, and Nami. Robin, Franky, and Usopp were down in the hold, keeping an eye on the cargo and providing Jinbe support as needed. Luffy was with them, undoubtedly causing trouble.
Zoro shed his wet slicker and then shook like a dog. “How long til this ends?” he asked Nami.
“A couple more hours,” Nami told him.
Zoro nodded and peeled off his sodden shirt and haramaki. He left it and his boots by the door. His trousers were plastered to his legs, but there was nothing he could do about it. His katanas received a quick dry from the towel Sanji had left on the back of one of the chairs. He set them on the table. “Did the cook leave any food?”
“He buttoned everything up,” Nami replied.
Brook lifted the thermos he was holding. “He left hot tea for you and Jinbe, if you decided to come in.”
“Thanks.” Zoro took the thermos and poured himself some using the attached cup. The hot brew seeped into his cold system.
“Is it still bad out there?” Chopper asked him nervously.
“Yeah. But Jinbe’s got it.” Zoro capped the thermos and handed it back to Brook. “You guys hungry? I’m famished.”
“Why? Are you going to cook?” Nami sounded sarcastic.
“Sure.” Zoro shrugged. “It’s a little rough, but I can throw something together.”
Nami’s mouth opened in surprise, but she closed it with a clack. “This I have to see.”
“Yo-ho-ho! Zoro-san putting his hands all over Sanji-san’s kitchen.” Brook made it sound lewd. “Sanji-san will not be happy.”
“Eh. He’ll be fine with it.” Zoro wandered past the bar into the kitchen proper and washed his hands. The ship rolled beneath his feet. Zoro knew where everything was kept. “Nami, can I have the keys?”
The keys to the refrigerator came winging at him from the dining area. He caught them easily. He unlocked the refrigerator and tucked the keys in the waistline of his trousers. Carefully, he opened the refrigerator door a sliver, allowing him to cast a quick eye over everything inside. He’d been in there during breakfast so he remembered what they had in stock. Sandwiches would be quickest, but everyone would appreciate something warm. If he threw something in the oven, it might slide around a bit, but he wouldn’t have to worry about it splashing or falling onto the floor while cooking.
The oven had a double rack so he could make more than one something, always a bonus with Luffy around. He settled on pizza. Sanji had leftover bread dough from breakfast and there were enough topping ingredients. He’d seen Sanji make it, listening to Sanji’s instructions as he worked, back when Zoro was still watching rather than helping. He knew how to make the sauce, as he’d made pasta sauce himself and Sanji had told him the differences when they’d made it.
Zoro timed his reach into the refrigerator to roll with the waves, to ensure nothing fell out. He put the items he needed into the extra wide sink. After flipping the latch closed on the refrigerator, he pre-heated the oven. He retrieved two large pizza pans from the storage cabinet near the oven, making sure the latch hooked after getting them out. He snagged the cooking oil and cornmeal from an upper cabinet while he was over there, then set the pans on the counter prep counter. Since they were flat, they were easy to keep in place.
Nami, Brook, and Chopper moved from the dining table to the bar length seating to watch him. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” Chopper asked.
“Yeah.” Zoro unscrewed the lid from the cornmeal and sprinkled it over both flat pans. He tightened the lid again and set it in the sink with the other stuff so it wouldn’t fall on the floor. The cooking oil was still tucked beneath his elbow against his body. He unwrapped the leftover dough, divided it in half, and dropped each portion onto its own pan. He made a small divot in each portion of the dough, uncapped the oil, and poured some into the divots. The recapped oil joined the items in the sink.
It only took a few minutes to spread out the sticky dough, allowing the oil to coat his hands so it didn’t cling to his fingers. Sanji had taught him there was no need to toss the dough into the air. Pushing it outward while rotating the pan in a circle worked just as well.
Once both pans were covered with dough, Zoro slid them into the hot oven. They needed to firm into a crust before the toppings could be added. He set the timer on the oven. He snagged a towel and wiped his hands before starting on the sauce. It could be made cold, thankfully. He’d rather not do something on the stovetop in the storm.
Nami, Brook, and Chopper watched in fascination as Zoro quickly mixed up pureed tomatoes with a few pinches of salt, pepper, and basil. He grated cheese into a bowl and chopped up vegetables and sausage evenly to add as toppings, leaving them in bowls in the sink. He would’ve preferred to wash his hands again, but as the sink was doubling as storage, it’d have to wait.
The timer dinged. Zoro pulled out the crusts, setting them on heat-proof pads that he’d tossed onto the prep counter. He added the sauce first, spreading it evenly over the pizza crusts with the back of a spoon, followed by the cheese and toppings. The pizza pans went back into the oven to finish cooking.
Zoro swayed with the ship as he put away the cooking supplies and cleaned the dishes. Nami had her chin resting on her fist. Chopper leaned eagerly over the bar. Brook hummed a soft tune. Zoro figured they’d skip the plates and help themselves right from the pan. He brought out clamps that would keep the pans secure to the counter and when the timer dinged, he used them. He swiftly cut one of the pizzas with a sharp knife, cleaned the knife in the sink, then dolled out napkins. “Help yourself.”
He took his own slice first, then got out of the way as Nami, Brook, and Chopper hustled around the bar into the kitchen. The pizza was hot, the cheese gooey, and the crust crisp. Zoro thought he could go a little heavier on the salt next time to counter the slightly sweet, milky, fresh flavor of the cheese.
“Oh my, this is delicious, Zoro-san, and I don’t even have any taste buds because I’m a skeleton,” Brook said. “Yo-ho-ho!”
“Brook is right. This is really good.” Nami bit into another bite, the cheese leaving a rope between her mouth and the pizza. Chopper beamed in agreement at Zoro with chipmunk cheeks stuffed with pizza.
Zoro devoured the slice in his hand and reached for another. “Will the pizza stay warm for the others?” Nami asked, reaching for a second piece herself.
“Once the oven has cooled enough, I’ll pop it back in there. That way it won’t keep cooking but will stay warm for a while,” Zoro replied.
“You learned so much from Sanji,” Chopper commented once he swallowed his food. “I’ve seen you here every day working with him. He’s going to be proud!”
Zoro felt his cheeks heat. He hadn’t thought that Sanji might be proud of him. He’d just been hungry. “It’s nothing.”
“What made you decide to learn, Zoro-san?” Brook asked. He wound a string of cheese around his boney finger.
Zoro wasn’t about to share that he’d done it to get into Sanji’s pants. It had sort of stopped being about that anyway. Now, he just enjoyed being with Sanji, cooking with him. “Thought it was time.”
Nami leaned against the counter by the stovetop. She held her second slice in her hand. “I figured you’d kill each other by the end of the first week. Guess I was wrong.”
“Guess so.” Zoro munched down his second piece. The ship rocked precariously as it crested a wave. The four Straw Hats held onto the counter from practice, having been in storms before, and they kept their feet. The clamps kept the pizza secure.
“I shall brave the weather and head below to see if anyone would like to come up for a slice,” Brook told them. He set the thermos of hot tea in the sink. It had been tucked beneath his arm the entire time. “I shall hold off on telling Luffy-san, though, to ensure everyone has a chance to eat. Yo-ho-ho!”
Brook left, and Chopper and Zoro took another slice. Nami seemed to be satisfied after two pieces. Robin and Usopp joined them in the galley a few minutes later, shaking the water from their slickers.
“Brook wasn’t lying. You made pizza!” Usopp enthusiastically snagged a slice. He bit into it and moaned. “This is soooo gooood.”
Robin smiled at Zoro as she joined them in the warm kitchen. “Thank you for cooking for us, Zoro-san. It is appreciated.”
Zoro shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
As Robin and Usopp ate, Zoro checked the oven. It was cool enough for him to slide the second pizza back in. That should keep it warm for Luffy, Sanji, and Jinbe. There should be enough from the first pizza to feed Franky, if he came up.
Since the refrigerator was still unlocked, Zoro grabbed a bottle of sake. He remembered to give Nami back her keys. He wasn’t planning on leaving the galley until after the storm, so if Luffy came in he could secure the lock. He wandered over to the couch to sprawl out. His trousers were still damp but he wasn’t about to strip down any further.
He drank his sake and dozed a bit. He kept one foot on the floor to stop him from sliding off the couch in the storm. Franky came up after Usopp had his fill and returned below deck. Quiet conversation flowed between Nami, Robin, Chopper, and Franky.
Eventually, the storm started to subside. Zoro got up and turned the oven back on low, to warm up the second pizza. There was a single piece left on the original tray. Zoro snagged it and ate it cold. It was still decent. Nami, Robin, and Chopper sat around the dining table, playing cards. Franky had returned below deck. He’d promised not to send Luffy up until he received word.
The rain settled into a slow pelt against the Sunny. The waves calmed. Robin and Nami pulled on their slickers and said goodbye to Zoro before leaving the galley, heading to the women’s quarters. Chopper disappeared into the infirmary. Zoro washed the empty pizza pan and put it away. He cleaned the prep counter, leaving one of the hot pads out. He took the second pizza out of the oven and set it down before turning off the oven again. Steam rose from the pizza’s surface. Zoro quickly cut it into slices before cleaning the knife and putting it away.
The empty sake bottle went into the bin that Sanji kept for that purpose, to be reused for something else. Zoro checked around for anything out of place. He clicked the lock shut on the refrigerator, as Sanji had the keys. Zoro could do with a hot shower, to wash away the salt water that still clung to his skin. He scratched absently at his bare belly.
“Chopper, do you want another slice of pizza? I warmed up the second one,” Zoro called toward the infirmary.
"No, I’m full. Thank you!” Chopper called in return.
“Okay.” Zoro gathered his katanas but left his wet clothing and rain slicker on the floor by the door. The ladder hatch to the observatory and bathroom was out the back infirmary door. He’d only be outside for a moment and he could pick up his stuff on his return.
Chopper was working industriously at his desk, making notes about something in his journal. Zoro went past him, out the back door, and dodged the raindrops in his bare feet to reach the ladder. He was inside again in a few seconds, heading up to the bathroom.
The shower felt good, the soap washing away the salty residue from the storm. The bathroom on the Thousand Sunny was built for multiple people, with a bench that ran along the wall under the shower and a large onsen-style tub. Zoro slipped into the bath for a soak as the rain pattered against the window above the tub. Nobody bothered him and he dozed again for a bit before climbing out.
Once dry, he didn’t feel like dragging his still-damp trousers on, so he left a towel wrapped around his waist, slung the trousers over his shoulders, and picked up his katanas. He went back down to the galley, cutting through the infirmary again. Chopper was gone, but a light shone in the galley itself.
Zoro crossed the threshold from the infirmary into the galley. “Hey,” he greeted Sanji, who was seated at the dining table, smoking a cigarette. Sanji had shed his outer later, but he still looked damp. “Bathroom’s free, if you want it with some privacy.”
“You made pizza.”
It was not the response Zoro was expecting. “Uh, yeah. You and Jinbe got some, right? No one was going to tell Luffy until you did.”
“Chopper told us.” Sanji glanced over at Zoro. He scowled even as Zoro saw a flush appear on his cheeks. “Why aren’t you wearing clothes?!”
“I was in the bath and my clothes are still wet. I’m not going to put them back on.” Zoro walked over to where the rest of his clothing was heaped. He bent over to gather them and heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He glanced past his leg to see Sanji staring at his towel-covered ass. A grin broke out on Zoro’s lips. “Are you looking at my ass?”
Sanji snorted dismissively, looking away. “Why the hell would I do that?”
Zoro chuckled as he straightened. “Cuz my ass is hot and I’m only wearing a towel?”
“Someone has an inflated opinion of himself.” Sanji puffed on his cigarette and tugged at the collar of his damp shirt.
“Hn.” Zoro wandered closer to Sanji, clothes and boots tucked under an arm. He felt the need to tease Sanji some more. “Bet you wouldn’t mind if the towel fell off.”
Sanji sputtered. “No! This is the galley. I don’t want your naked dick flopping around in here!”
Zoro laughed at the response. “Okay. I’ll go. But you’re missing out.”
“Probably not much for me to miss.”
Zoro merely grinned as he turned and headed for the door. He was about to step out into the light rain when he heard Sanji speak up behind him. “The pizza was good.”
A combination of pleasure and pride warmed his chest. He glanced over his shoulder. “Really?”
Still sitting at the table, Sanji gave him a sincere smile. “Yes, Zoro. Really.”
Zoro left the galley with a bounce in his step. He found he couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.
The Thousand Sunny docked at Etsumi Shores a week later. Etsumi Shores was a jewel of an island, with soft sands and beautiful flora. The town was nestled between rolling hills of tall, green grasses and wildflowers. The structures had a similar style as Wano; hardwoods in classic lines separated by natural materials. Lattice windows and cusped gables gave the homes and buildings a traditional feel. Waning sunlight cast long shadows. A gentle wind whispered through the sakura trees.
The locals were welcoming to visitors. The Sunny was the only ship in port. As Etsumi Shores was small, there was no marine contingent on the spring island. Nami deemed it safe enough to not leave a watch and Franky secured the ship against intruders before the crew disembarked.
Zoro had some Beli and planned to find the nearest tavern to spend it. They’d been at sea for a while and it felt good to get away from the ship. He wore the shirt he’d picked up in Dressrosa, half-unbuttoned, over black trousers and boots. It was the only clothing he had that was clean. He hadn’t done laundry lately and his comfortable long coat had gotten a stain on it earlier that day from one of Usopp’s experiments.
The crew began filtering off down the various sandy streets to explore the town of Etsumi Shores. Hands tucked into his pockets, Sanji dropped back to fall into step with Zoro. He wore a full black suit and black tie, with a pale green shirt. A cigarette hung from his lips. He glanced at Zoro. “Would you like to come to dinner with me?”
Zoro was surprised by the invitation. They usually split up, especially after being at sea for months. “Is there a catch?”
Sanji blew out an irritated puff of smoke. “I thought you’d might like to try another chef’s cooking, idiot marimo, see how it compares now that you’ve learned some things.”
“Oh. Sure.” Zoro was down for that. He’d been cooking with Sanji for a while now. It’d be fun to see what he’d learned. “Lead the way.”
“I’d better. If you lead, we’d somehow end up back on Wano.”
Families and workers passed by them on the street on their way to or from home. Sanji stopped someone to ask for recommendations on restaurants and was directed to a place away from the main traffic area. Gas street lights began flickering to life as they strolled down a side street. In the air, the scent of wildflowers mixed with that of the sea.
The traditional exterior of the small restaurant matched that of the other buildings. Paper lantern lights illuminated the interior of the space, reflecting against the wood ceiling battens. Transom panels allowed light and air to filter above the sliding partitions and translucent screens. Decorative shoji panels and rice paper walls divided the space into private eating areas. Each held a chabudai table and tatami cushions. The floors were bamboo, and Zoro and Sanji removed their footwear before following the host to one of the private rooms.
Zoro half-expected the restaurant staff to be wearing kimonos, but they were dressed similar to Sanji in suits or nice shirts. Zoro sank down onto the tatami cushion at the corner of the rectangular, low table. He set his katanas on the cushion to his left. Sanji sat beside him on the right, catty corner, at the head of the table. The host left menus and the promise of drinks. Zoro could hear the quiet conversation and clink of dining floating through the thin, decorated walls on either side of them.
Zoro picked up the menu to study it. He was pleased to find that he knew what the main dishes were now. He used to have to guess. There were still a few that eluded him, though. “What’s ceviche mean?”
“Fish that’s been cured in lime juice,” Sanji replied, perusing the menu.
“Hn. What’s it taste like?” Zoro asked.
“Bright, refreshing, citrusy – because of the lime. It’s a good summer dish,” Sanji said. “It can be seasoned to make it spicy or salty depending on what it’s mixed with.”
“We’ll have to make it sometime.”
Sanji peered over his menu at Zoro, a smile in his eyes. “That can be arranged.”
A waiter appeared with a perfunctory knock on the open sliding door, bearing drinks. He placed the bottle of sake and a glass of white wine on the table. Zoro and Sanji gave their meal orders and the waiter left again. They fell into conversation about what would be needed to make ceviche and, as it was on the menu, they could likely find the items locally.
Dinner arrived, drinks were refilled, and the privacy door was shut. Sanji quizzed Zoro on the flavors he tasted within his meal and how they might be achieved. Zoro chatted comfortably about the food, stole a bite from Sanji’s plate, and debated the merits of the various types of sushi. Zoro preferred Nigiri. Sanji enjoyed Temaki.
The discussion flowed from main dishes to desserts. Sanji extolled the virtues of chocolate, white Zoro made faces. Sanji told Zoro about extra dark chocolate which was bitter, not sweet, and vowed to change Zoro’s mind. Zoro scoffed and Sanji grinned at the challenge.
Now, over their ordered desserts of creamy lemon pudding, Sanji was sharing the foods he hated. “Durians. It’s a fruit that smells terrible and tastes like onion custard. Who wants to eat onion custard? Then there are scallions, which I find to be overrated. Yes, I use them all the time in soups, salads, and stir-frys, but I can attain the same vegetal, peppery flavors from other spices.”
Zoro’s chin rested on his fist, his elbow on the table. He sat cross-legged on the tatami cushion. He had a cup of sake in his other hand. He felt good, relaxed. He was fully enjoying himself, listening to Sanji, watching the sparks of delight in Sanji’s eyes and the animation on his face.
“And then there’s eggplant.” Sanji pulled a face that was a cross between affection and disgust. “That’s more of a personal thing. Zeff called me ‘baby eggplant’ or ‘little eggplant’ from the day we met until the day I left. He finally called me by my name just before I boarded the Merry. Don’t know if you remember that. You were pretty cut up by Mihawk.”
“I remember thinking you were annoying,” Zoro said. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Heh.” Sanji drank the rest of his wine and set the empty glass on the table. “What about you? Got any foods you hate, besides sweet chocolate?”
“Purple carrots. They look like cut off, shriveled dicks.”
A laugh burst out of Sanji so loudly that it echoed off the ceiling battens. Sanji clamped both hands over his mouth, his eyes wide with embarrassment, but he still kept laughing, shoulders shaking, snorts and chortles escaping from between his fingers. Zoro grinned unrepentantly. “You asked.”
It took a full minute for Sanji to regain control of himself. Zoro felt smug and it likely showed. Sanji had to swipe the tears from the corners of his eyes, his guffaws finally dwindling down to a few stray chuckles. When his composure returned, his smile became amative and there was a new light in his eyes. He laid his hand on Zoro’s bent knee. “I prefer my carrots to appear more natural.”
A bubble of laughter escaped Zoro’s lips, even as his heart tripped in his chest. “You have the worst pick-up lines.” He should’ve seen this coming. He’d been so wrapped up in Sanji that he didn’t realize that they were reenacting the date Zoro had overheard back on Dagger Isles. The date that had started Zoro on this path to begin with, and he’d succeeded at even after he’d stopped trying.
“I could grunt at you if you’d like.” Sanji’s thumb stroked the outer edge of Zoro’s knee. “I know that’s more your style.”
Zoro liked that Sanji wasn’t acting flustered or nervous. Sanji knew what he wanted and was going for it, even if it meant disaster. It made Zoro want him even more. “How about if I show you how it’s done?” Zoro said, polishing off his sake. He set the cup aside.
“By all means. Make a fool of yourself.” Sanji folded his arms and leaned back as if waiting for a show. A grin danced around his lips.
Zoro turned his body more toward Sanji’s, dipped his chin, and glanced up at Sanji from beneath his lashes. His voice dropped in register, and he licked his lower lip before asking, “Are you interested?”
Sanji sucked in a sharp breath and heat darkened his eyes. A flush of arousal crept up his neck and he tugged at the knot in his tie. “Fuck.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Zoro said with a slow, sinful smile.
A strangled sound escaped Sanji’s throat, and then he was on his feet, opening the sliding door. He grabbed the attention of the waiter. “May we have the bill?”
Zoro laughed again, even as arousal thrummed through him. He wanted Sanji in every way. The challenge Zoro had set for himself had been one hundred percent won by Sanji and Zoro didn’t mind at all.
Sanji paid their bill, made quiet inquiries about the nearest accommodations, and they were off. Night had fully fallen. Their shoulders bumped as they walked down the gas-lighted street, their steps becoming faster until they were practically running for the hotel. Zoro probably looked like a sex-starved madman when he paid for a room, but he didn’t care. Once he had the key, he grabbed Sanji’s wrist and dragged him quickly to their room.
The hotel had one floor with exterior doors and thicker walls, still with the hardwoods and classic lines. Zoro found their room, slotted in the key, and pushed the door open. A flick of a light illuminated the small room in a warm glow. A double bed made with crisp sheets flanked one wall with a wardrobe across from it. A small round table flanked by two chairs stood beneath a curtained window. A door led to the in-room bath with a separate water closet. The walls were white with painted decorations of birds in flight. The floors were bamboo.
Zoro and Sanji kicked off their footwear before entering. The door closed behind them with a definitive click. What was about to happen would change their relationship. Zoro had a moment where he wanted to ask if Sanji was certain, but Sanji was pushing him up against the wall, fisting a hand in the back of his hair, and kissing him before he could speak.
Zoro moaned in the back of his throat, eyes closing, falling into the kiss. He’d fantasized about this for so long and now it was reality. Sanji was as demanding in his kiss as he was in the kitchen and Zoro ate it up. Aggression and confidence turned him on. Zoro wondered, briefly, if this was how Sanji was like with all men and how much he’d missed out on by not going for it years before. His hands found Sanji’s waist, pulling him closer. He could feel that Sanji was as excited as he’d become. There was no question they both wanted this.
Sanji kissed him fervently, unrelenting in passion. It was intoxicating. The sharp tongue that Sanji used to cut Zoro down battled against his own in a different way. Bruising kisses seared Zoro’s lips and made him hungry for more. Sanji began pawing at Zoro’s shirt, undoing buttons. His strong, calloused hands pushed aside the white material to rove against Zoro’s heated skin.
It was possible that Zoro might come from only this, but he wanted more. He broke for air, banging his head against the wall behind him. “Wait, stop.”
Sanji shot him an inquiring look, hands stilling. His face held an aroused flush, his gaze fueled by heat. “Are you changing your mind?” he asked quietly, as if the idea pained him but he would cease.
“Fuck, no,” Zoro reassured him quickly. “Let me take a shower.”
Another strangled sound, similar to the one Sanji emitted earlier, escaped from Sanji’s throat. His fingers convulsively scratched at Zoro’s stomach, sending a sting of pleasure down Zoro’s spine. “Hurry,” Sanji told him in a rough voice.
Zoro ducked around him, hustling into the bathroom to take the fastest, thorough shower of his life. Excitement and nervousness roiled in his stomach. This wasn’t like any of the casual fucks he’d had in the past. This meant something. Sanji meant something. Hell, he hoped it meant something to Sanj, too.
He dried himself with a towel and then wrapped it around his waist. He left his clothes in a puddle on the bathroom floor. He carried his katanas with him back into the bedroom. Sanji was standing by the open window, smoking the tail end of a cigarette. He looked over when Zoro returned, hunger evident on his face.
Zoro leaned the katanas against the wardrobe as Sanji stabbed out his cigarette, closed the window, and shut the curtains. Sanji was still fully dressed and started to unbutton his coat.
“Don’t,” Zoro told him, excitement tenting the towel around his waist. “Leave it on.”
“Fuck,” Sanji swore, lust dripping from the word. He crossed the bedroom in three long strides, grabbed Zoro around the waist, and kissed him again.
Zoro’s fingers dove into Sanji’s blond hair, messing it up. His breath was stolen by Sanji’s devouring lips and tongue. Sanji’s hands wandered and clutched at his bare chest, waist, and back. Zoro poured every ounce of desire into the kiss, to show that this was what he desperately wanted. He’d waited so long for this that he’d stopped thinking it was important, but now that Sanji was in front of him, eager and willing, Zoro wanted nothing more.
Sanji dragged the towel from around Zoro’s waist, letting it fall to the floor. He maneuvered Zoro toward the bed. Zoro felt the edge hit the back of his knees and then he was pushed down onto the soft, yielding surface. The kiss broke. Zoro’s mouth felt swollen. His breaths were fast. He was sprawled fully naked before Sanji’s heady gaze, erection standing at attention. Sanji being completely dressed while Zoro was not was erotic as hell.
Sanji reached into the inner breast pocket of his coat and tossed a fat vial of lube on the bed beside Zoro. Seeing it made Zoro’s lust spiral to new heights. It meant that Sanji had planned this. That he wanted to have sex with Zoro before they’d even left the Sunny. “When did you– how did you–” Zoro tripped over his own words, he was that aroused.
Sanji’s smile was salacious, his thirsty gaze raking over Zoro’s body. “I don’t do this often, but when I am interested I am prepared.”
“Fuck me.” Zoro’s entire body trembled with desire. If he didn’t get fucked right now, he was going to explode. “Fuck me like we fight.”
Sanji’s eyes flared and then he was on Zoro, grabbing his wrists tightly, pinning them above his head, before plundering Zoro’s mouth with his bruising lips, teeth, and wicked tongue. Zoro’s heart hammered in his chest, every nerve ending on fire. His erection was trapped beneath the material of Sanji’s trousers as Sanji straddled him. The pressure was exquisite but not nearly enough.
Sanji drew away from Zoro’s lips to begin biting down his jawline to his ear. “Tell me to stop if I do something wrong,” Sanji murmured in Zoro’s ear before he captured Zoro’s earrings between his teeth and tugged hard.
“Yessss,” Zoro hissed, hips surging beneath Sanji. Sanji continued his delicious torture, sucking deep, sharp love bites along Zoro’s neck to his shoulder. His fingernails scratched along Zoro’s raised arms as he moved lower, creating red furrows on his skin. Sanji continued his downward exploration, leaving vivid, bruising marks in his wake.
Sanji bit one of Zoro’s nipples and Zoro arched in pained-pleasure. He was breathing heavily, his mouth running dry. Horniness gripped his balls. “More,” he moaned.
Sanji obliged, not being gentle, biting and sucking at both of Zoro’s nipples until he felt like they were on fire. He tried to thrust against Sanji’s clothed bottom, but Sanji’s immensely powerful lower body kept him still. Sanji hummed with satisfaction, eyeing Zoro’s inflamed nipples and bruised chest. “You look good wearing my marks.”
“Fuck. ” Zoro’s breath left him in a rush. He was so fucking turned on. “Please.”
“Hm, I’m getting there.” Sanji sounded smug, and Zoro wanted to smack him, but he suddenly moved off Zoro’s lap to stand between Zoro’s thighs. Zoro’s feet were still on the floor. Sanji picked up one of Zoro’s legs and sucked a bruise on the tender part of his ankle.
Zoro threw his head back. He grabbed the bedding above his head, crumpling it in his fists. “Fuck, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Sanji continued his torment, marking his way up Zoro’s leg. He sucked a large, painful bruise on Zoro’s inner thigh near where it met his balls. Zoro cried out in pleasure. Sanji’s breath ghosted over Zoro’s leaking erection before he repeated the process of driving Zoro insane, marking up Zoro’s other leg.
Zoro’s brain was likely dribbling out his ear. His head turned back and forth on the bed, his eyes scrunched shut, as he rode the masochistic edge of agony and desire. He fucking loved it. And when Sanji forcefully grabbed his balls, Zoro nearly vibrated off the bed. “Please, please fuck me.”
Sanji’s low chuckle gusted across Zoro’s heated skin. “Impatient.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Zoro felt Sanji’s toothy smile against the head of his aching cock. Sanji’s assertiveness was as much of a turn on as his words. “You’re going to beg for more.”
Sanji sucked him down and Zoro cursed loudly. The wet heat from Sanji’s mouth engulfed his rigid shaft. Sanji wasn’t gentle. His hand fisted beneath his mouth, squeezing Zoro hard, teeth scraping lightly along the underside of Zoro’s erection. He nipped at the swollen head each time he rose up the length. Zoro dug his bare heels into the bamboo floor, trying to push up further into the hot, sharp recesses of Sanji’s mouth.
Sanji slicked his fingers with saliva and Zoro felt him penetrate roughly with two digits. Zoro writhed on the bed, moaning loudly and unabashedly. Sanji took Zoro’s words to heart, to fuck him like they fought. It was difficult for Zoro to find a partner willing and eager to hurt him in just the right way. Every molecule felt alive, the danger and pain that came with stinging roughness made him ache for more.
Sanji had been right, Zoro was begging now as Sanji finger fucked him mercilessly, his mouth brutal, fist beneath his lips jerking Zoro’s hard. “Sanji– fuck– please. Please. Fuck me. Fuck– Sanji. Damn it. I’m begging you. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Sanji…”
Sanji pinched the base of Zoro’s cock and with a final bite on the reddened, bruised head, he pulled off. He climbed up beside Zoro’s body to kiss him soundly on lust-addled lips. “You beg so beautifully.”
“Fucking hell.” Zoro was going to go off any moment and Sanji wasn’t even touching him anymore. He glared at Sanji through a slitted eye. “I’m going to come, you shit cook.”
Sanji picked up the vial and stood again. He gave Zoro a wicked smile, reached between Zoro’s legs, and twisted Zoro’s balls exactly right.
Orgasm slammed through Zoro instantly. He came hard with a wracking cry and shudder of his body. Warm, ropey come splattered over his chest and belly. His heart pounded, his ears buzzed. His mind blanked out.
“Holy fuck, that was hot.” Sanji’s voice had a rough edge, as if he was barely holding on himself. Zoro felt a leg being lifted and slick fingers ungently lubing his hole. Zoro dragged himself back to the here and now at the rasp of Sanji’s zipper. His body felt lax and he cracked open his eye to watch as Sanji pulled his erection free from his trousers.
Sanji’s turgid cock looked flushed and angry from waiting. Dressed in his full suit with only his cock exposed, Zoro thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Sanji lifted Zoro’s ankles to Sanji’s shoulders, slicked his cock with the lube, and then lined himself up with Zoro’s waiting hole. Zoro relaxed as Sanji breached him, earning a ragged moan from them both.
Zoro licked his dry lips. “Don’t go soft on me now, cook. Fuck me like you want me to feel it for days.”
Sanji’s nostrils flared and feverish sadism slapped across his features. He began to fuck Zoro just like Zoro wanted, hard and brutal, not holding back. Zoro had fantasized about the strength and power in Sanji’s legs and hips and he wasn’t disappointed. His ass already felt bruised and they’d only started.
Sanji bent over Zoro, bracing his hands on either side of Zoro’s shoulders. Zoro’s legs were bent far back. He wasn’t as flexible as Sanji and the position caused him to ache. Sanji’s hips slammed into the curve of his ass, the new angle causing Sanji’s cock to hit that spot inside Zoro that sent jolts of electricity coursing through him.
The squeak of the bed and the sounds of hard, slapping sex filled the room. Zoro’s gasping noises of pleasure punctuated it. The heady scent of musk surrounded them. Sanji did not hold back, driving into Zoro with bruising snaps of his powerful hips. “I’m never going to let you go,” Sanji growled, staring headily at Zoro with passion-fueled possession. “You’re mine now.”
“Fuck, Sanji.” Zoro clutched at Sanji’s shoulders, his toes tingling, bruised cock aching once again. The material of Sanji’s suit coat flicked against his erection with Sanji’s every thrust. He’d never expected this. His fucks had always been casual, even the great ones. But now he desperately wanted Sanji’s brazen, lustful words to be true. “Yes, please.”
Sanji growled again and dropped his head to sear a kiss on Zoro’s lips. Zoro’s legs were crushed against his chest and it hurt to breathe. His fingers dug into Sanji’s shoulders, craving more. His mind spun, the shocks caused by Sanji’s cock hitting Zoro’s perfectly on the inside brought him to the edge again. He wanted to come so badly.
Sanji broke the kiss, breaths coming in wheezing staggers. His hips began to lose their rhythm. Zoro held on, allowing Sanji to take what he wanted, what was his, and loved every second of it. Sanji slammed into him a few more times then stilled with a sharp noise erupting from his throat. Zoro could feel Sanji’s cock pulsing inside of him, spilling his load.
Sanji collapsed onto Zoro, keeping them in the lewd, locked position. He panted hotly against the side of Zoro’s face. Zoro’s cock ached to be touched, trapped between their bodies. He bit his lower lip, waiting for Sanji to come back to himself.
Eventually, Sanji raised himself up far enough to see Zoro’s face. His sloe-eyes drank in Zoro’s features with a proprietorial smile curving his lips. “I can feel you’re still hard for me.”
“Damn it. Yes.” Zoro didn’t hold back on his begging. “Please do something.”
Sanji kissed him again, slow and deep, almost teasingly. Zoro wanted to writhe under him but was trapped by their position. Sanji’s softening cock was still seated in his ass. Zoro loved the confidence and assurity Sanji possessed when he dealt with Zoro in their day-to-day lives and now it was present here in bed. Zoro didn’t want this to ever end, but he desperately wanted to come.
Sanji drew back, mouth lingering against Zoro’s, until he bit sharply, abruptly on Zoro’s lower lip. Zoro gurgled in pleasure. Sanji pushed himself off Zoro until he was standing upright once again. Zoro felt the burn in his hips and legs as he was released from the position he’d been. His feet touched the floor, his knees hanging on the edge of the bed. He could see his own cum on the front of Sanji’s suit from his prior orgasm.
Sanji glanced down at himself, at the off-white wetness staining his suit. “Tch. Look what you did.”
“Sanji,” Zoro’s voice held a whinge that he didn’t suppress. His cock stood tall from his body, waving for attention. “Do something.”
Sanji’s eyes traveled back to Zoro and he bent forward to brace his hands on Zoro’s thighs. Zoro hoped that Sanji was going to suck him again, but instead he murmured, “Jerk off for me.”
The sound that escaped Zoro’s throat would be embarrassing if Zoro wasn’t so far gone to care. He wrapped his hand around his erection and watched Sanji watching him masturbate with harsh, uneven jerks. Zoro reached between his legs with his other hand to twist his balls. He could feel Sanji’s cum leaking from his ass onto the bed.
It didn’t take long for his second orgasm to climb from his toes and shoot out his cock. He forced himself to keep his eye open to watch even as his brain whited out. His cum splattered against Sanji’s suit coat, adding to the mess already there. Sanji wore a crude grin. “Hn. Maybe I need to punish you for dirtying my coat. What’s your take on spanking?”
“Fuck!” Another squirt of cum shot from Zoro’s cock. Apparently, he had a kink he didn’t know about.
Sanji’s low laugh curled around Zoro. “Pervert.”
“You suggested it,” Zoro’s retort sounded weak in his ears.
Sanji leaned his head down to lick the tip of Zoro’s cock, which Zoro still held upright. Zoro hissed with sensitivity. “I’m not going to be able to be seen in public wearing a stained suit. You’ll have to clean it up.”
“Fine.” Zoro felt lethargy take hold of his limbs. “I’ll wash it later.”
Sanji bit lightly at Zoro’s cockhead, his eyes dancing with devilment. “I meant with your tongue.”
Zoro’s eye opened wide as a new surge of arousal shot through him. “Damn it. Stop saying kinky shit.”
“You like it.” Sanji crawled up over him and settled his full weight against Zoro’s chest. He bracketed Zoro’s head with his elbows. The cum-dampened suit rubbed wetly against Zoro’s bare skin. “I saw how much you enjoyed me smacking and bossing you around in the kitchen.”
Zoro felt heat creep into his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around Sanji’s waist. “You did?”
“I’m not an idiot, marimo. No matter how many times you call me one.” Sanji kissed him lightly on his passion-bruised lips. “I knew you were trying to get into my pants.”
Zoro inwardly squirmed. He thought he’d been sneaky. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to see how long you’d last before you either gave up or propositioned me. You’re not the only one who likes a challenge.”
Hell, Sanji saw right through him, didn’t he? Zoro was chagrined. “It was two challenges,” he admitted. “To get in your boxers and to put up with your annoying ass.”
“Congratulations on winning.” Sanji nipped at Zoro’s chin. Zoro liked the display of affection. “You didn’t have to call me handsome, though.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You really think that, don’t you?”
Zoro heard the quiet note of wistfulness. Sanji might be confident about his actions, but he still carried self-doubt about himself. “Women are idiots.”
The faint coloring on Sanji’s cheeks indicated he’d understood Zoro’s meaning even as he scolded, “Tch. Don’t insult women. They’re a hundred times better than a lout like you.”
“Says the man plastered against my chest with my cum sticking to his suit coat.”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed. “I’m still making you lick it clean.”
Arousal slithered along Zoro’s spine again. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, didn’t think you meant that.”
“Depends on how dirty you really are.” Sanji’s smile was wicked. It turned Zoro on. “Good thing we have the room all night. I want to find out if you’re as obedient in the bedroom as you are in the kitchen.”
Zoro sucked in a sharp breath as lust slammed into him once more. “I can’t believe that you’re this forward and, um, into it.”
“You’ve been begging me to beat on you repeatedly since we started sailing together,” Sanji pointed out. “You do realize that’s not normal interaction between human beings.”
Zoro felt his face heat again with a blush. “You fought me back.”
“Should’ve clued you in.”
Zoro wanted to squirm again. “So you’re not just riling me up?”
“Could be.” Sanji’s eyes danced with deviltry again. “Want to find out?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Sanji was curled against Zoro’s side, snoring indelicately in Zoro’s ear when Zoro awoke. Sunlight peeped through the curtains covering the window. The room smelled like sex and unwashed men. The bedcovers were rumpled around their bare waists. Sanji’s feet were tangled with Zoro’s at the end of the bed.
Zoro blinked the sleep out of his eye and cracked a yawn. He wondered what time it was. Nami hadn’t indicated any set time the crew should return. They’d likely stay a few days at Etsumi Shores, to restock and take a break from being at sea.
The need to piss drove Zoro to move from the comfort of the bed. His entire body ached in a way only great sex could bring. He wandered to the water closet to relieve himself and then into the bathroom. He set the tub to filling while he availed himself with one of the free toothbrushes and paste left in a cup on the sink.
Once his mouth felt clean, Zoro eyed himself in the mirror above the sink. He stepped back to better see his body. His lips were still puffy. His skin was littered with mouth-bruises and bite marks, and there was a pale red line around his neck leftover from Sanji’s tie. He turned around and craned his neck to see his back. Faint scratch marks marred his skin and his ass appeared like he might find sitting uncomfortable.
Zoro remembered the conversation with Sanji back on the docks on Dagger Isles. Sanji would never get to have this. He only could find pleasure in the moment. Nothing lingered. Zoro would gladly bear this evidence that Sanji’s pleasure did linger, even if it was on Zoro’s body and not his own.
After a quick clean in the shower, Zoro stepped into the hot bath. He sank down into the water, allowing it to soothe his aches and pains. He was right in that sitting was slightly uncomfortable. It made him grin. Sanji was a salacious lover and not afraid to put his hands on Zoro. Zoro thought about the rarity of it again, and for him to find someone who was on the ship with him was something he wouldn’t let slip through his fingers.
But what if this was a one off? What if Sanji wanted a casual shoreside fling and nothing long-term? It wasn’t like Sanji was gay, like Zoro. He was bi, or pan, or whatever meant he occasionally enjoyed fucking male cooks. Would he want a relationship with a man?
And that’s what Zoro wanted, a relationship. Not friends-with-benefits or having an itch occasionally scratched. Spending these months with Sanji in the kitchen, learning how to cook, watching Sanji go through katas using Wado, dancing in each other’s space, had changed how Zoro interacted with him. How he felt about Sanji. Add awesome sex to the mix and Zoro wanted to hold onto Sanji for as long as he could.
Zoro heard the toilet flush and a moment later Sanji wandered into the bathroom. He was naked and disheveled. “Morning,” he mumbled, going over to the sink. He washed his hands and then went to brush his teeth.
“Hey.” Zoro looked Sanji over. He looked like he always did, pale, hairy, and muscular in a leaner-than-Zoro way. Zoro couldn’t tell by looking at Sanji’s body they’d had a heck of a lot of sex last night. Zoro was glad he bore the marks.
Sanji scratched his belly as he brushed his teeth. Once he was done, he grumbled, “I’m itchy from your cum, shitty marimo.”
Zoro huffed a laugh. “Guess I missed some.”
Sanji glanced over at Zoro with a half-smile. “Guess so.” He wandered closer and peered at Zoro in the water. The clear water distorted Zoro’s love-bruises, making them appear bigger in places and smaller in others. “You look like shit.”
Zoro hesitated before asking, “Bad shit or good shit?”
“Like my shit.” Sanji ruffled Zoro’s hair, which made Zoro sputter in annoyance. Inwardly, Zoro felt relieved – and pleased – by the answer. “You okay, though?”
“More than.” Zoro flashed Sanji a smile. “You’ll get to see what you did through at least tonight. Maybe even tomorrow. Sorry that I heal kinda quickly, too.”
Sanji rolled his eyes and turned on the shower. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing for being a fast healer.”
“Yeah, well…,” Zoro shrugged, trying to keep it nonchalant even though his heart suddenly started pounding with anxiousness, “...you did say I was yours now, so I thought, you know, you might want it to linger longer.”
Sanji froze, one hand reaching for the detachable shower arm. “I said that in the heat of the moment.”
Zoro felt his stomach drop and he looked down at the water. The love marks seemed to mock him now. “Right. Of course. It’s just sex talk.”
“You…,” Sanji began with a croak in his voice. He cleared his throat. “You’d want that?”
Zoro wanted to brush it off, to hide his feelings, but he wasn’t a coward. “Yes. I would.” If Sanji was going to break his heart, he wanted it to be swift and clean.
“Oh.” Sanji went silent. Zoro still didn’t look at him. The shower hissed as it ran down the floor drain.
The shower turned off. Then, Sanji was suddenly climbing into the tub in front of Zoro, sitting on Zoro's lap. Zoro’s eye widened in surprise. The tub wasn’t really big enough for two, and Sanji’s knees stuck up on either side of his body. His feet were wedged between Zoro’s legs and the side of the tub.
Sanji grabbed Zoro’s chin and forced Zoro to look at him. His other hand was splayed on Zoro’s chest for balance. “If you’re bullshitting me, I will end you.”
The look in Sanji’s eye told Zoro he was deadly serious. “I’m not.”
Sanji studied him warily. “You really want something with me. Me.
Zoro needed to do something about Sanji’s self-worth issues. “Yes, you. You don’t see anyone else in the tub with me.”
“I’m being serious, shithead,” Sanji snapped. “Casual is one thing. You know what to expect and not expect. I can deal with that, and I’m game if you want to keep screwing around once we’re at sea again. But I’m not going to put myself out there if this is some joke to you.”
The water sloshed as Zoro brought his hand up to cover Sanji’s, resting against his chest. “This isn’t a joke. I meant what I said. I’m yours, if you want me.”
“Why?”
Zoro was starting to get annoyed. The more he spoke, the more annoyed he became. “What do you mean, why? Because I want a relationship with you, dumbass. Because spending time cooking with you has been the highlight of my days. Because you took up the sword even though it might have hurt you emotionally. Because you’re handsome. Because you’re strong. Because you stand up to me. Because you’re interesting and clever. Because you took me at my word and fucked the living shit out of me. Because even though you might not think you’re anything special, you damn well are and I want you in my life for more than just a casual thing, you irritating, twirly-browed idiot! So are you going to accept, or are you going to break my fucking heart? This tub water is getting cold and I want to get out.”
Sanji stared at Zoro, mouth agape and eyes wide. Zoro watched as a blush spread over Sanji’s body, starting at his neck, climbing down his chest and up to his face to the very tips of his ears. Then, he leaned forward and kissed Zoro with such passion it stole Zoro’s breath away.
Sanji drew back a few inches, meeting Zoro’s gaze. “We do this, you have to be completely upfront and honest with me. I know we get pissed at each other a lot, but I don't want some petty bullshit or misunderstanding to ruin this.”
Zoro was still trying to catch his breath. He was also as hard as a rock beneath Sanj’s ass, where he sat on Zoro. “I can do that.”
“And I’m not about to stop flirting with women. I’m not going to do anything with them, but I still find them hot as hell and am not going to force myself to not think so.”
“I still get to be annoyed with you about it,” Zoro countered. He wasn’t going to let Sanji walk all over him outside the bedroom. Or at least not much.
“Wouldn’t expect otherwise,” Sanji said. “No sex in my galley. Period. That’s unsanitary. I don’t want you wandering around in a towel again, either. I can put up with you being shirtless, but even that’s disgusting around food prep.”
Zoro dipped his hand beneath the water to stroke along Sanji’s inner thighs. “Can I still kiss you in the galley?”
“No. Because if you do, it’s going to lead to sex and I already told you no sex in the galley. Hn, what else?” Sanji dragged his thumb against Zoro’s lower lip as he thought. “I’m going to be seriously pissed off if the others think I’m an abusive asshole because you get off on pain. You are going to tell the crew it’s what you want. Chopper’ll be worried and I’m willing to talk to him, too, but I’m going to be self-conscious enough as it is without everyone quizzing me about it.”
“You don’t have to, you know,” Zoro said, dipping his hands inward to brush over Sanji’s hardening cock. “If it’s going to make you uncomfortable. I like you for more than sex.”
The blush Sanji still wore darkened and he cut his gaze away. “Maybe I like it. Stupid marimo.”
Zoro grinned and boldly wrapped his hand around Sanji’s erection. “You gonna keep me all tied up like your personal little sex toy?”
“Fuck.” Sanji’s hips surged forward, pushing his hard on into Zoro’s hand. “And you call me a pervert.”
“Hn.” Zoro stroked Sanji’s cock, thumb rubbing over the tip on the upstroke. “Maybe I want to make your moments have a lasting impression.”
Sanji’s expression turned quizzical, even as he started to pant softly. “What does that mean?”
“You know, your moments. You told me that your pleasure was fleeting because of your exoskeleton. With me, maybe those moments will last in a different way.”
Sanji’s eyes warmed and he leaned in to brush a kiss on Zoro’s lips. “That is the most dumbass but romantic shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, I also get off on it.” Zoro grinned again. “Apparently, I get off on a lot of things I didn’t even know about. I can’t wait to see what your imagination comes up with next.”
“My imagination wants to see my cock in your mouth, you handsy deviant.”
Zoro licked his lips, black eye alight with anticipation. He stroked Sanji a couple more times. “What are you waiting for?”
Sanji cursed, pushed to his feet, and used the wall over Zoro’s head to brace himself. He moved forward and rubbed his cockhead against Zoro’s lips. Zoro opened his mouth readily, lapping at the tip. He slid his hands up the back of Sanji’s thighs, urging him to thrust in.
Sanji didn’t need any more encouragement. He pushed his hard cock into Zoro’s mouth, plunging deep. Zoro had proved last night that he could take it. Zoro tilted his head back a little more, fully opening his throat, swallowing around Sanji’s length. Sanji cursed again and began fucking Zoro’s face, like Zoro wanted. Sanji’s pelvis bumped against Zoro’s nose and his balls smacked against Zoro’s chin. The rapid, steady thrust of Sanji’s cock down Zoro’s throat made it difficult to breathe. Zoro’s eyes watered and he grabbed his own throbbing erection. He began jerking off in rhythm with Sanji hard thrusts.
Sanji watched what Zoro was doing with heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes. His mouth was slack and he was panting heavily. Zoro blinked his damp eyes and a tear ran down his temple. “Fuck, you’re hot when you cry like this for me,” Sanji breathed with a sharp edge to his voice.
Zoro’s entire body shivered with arousal. His other hand dropped between his legs to tug roughly at his balls. Sanji was pushing all his buttons.
Sanji’s panting grew ragged, his thrusts becoming more frantic. “Zoro…”
Zoro tried to hum around Sanji’s cock in his throat. The vibration set Sanji off. He suddenly slammed several times into Zoro’s mouth with a strangled sound, then yanked himself from between Zoro’s lips. He grabbed his cock, jerked it twice, and shot his load all over Zoro’s face. It was so fucking hot that Zoro came, too, ejaculating into the bath water with a hard shudder.
Both of them were silent for several long seconds, their heavy post-orgasm breathing echoing against the bathroom walls. Sanji regained his bearings first, crouched down, and gave Zoro a sloppy kiss. He grinned lopsidedly at Zoro. “You look good wearing my cum, marimo.”
Zoro swiped some cum from his cheek and sucked it off his finger. “I like that you’re not afraid of sounding stupid saying shit like that.”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed. “You think I sound stupid, shit swordsman?”
“No. I think you sound fucking hot.” Zoro grinned at him. “Feel free to keep it up.”
Sanji huffed a laugh and flicked Zoro’s earrings. “Crazy pervert.”
“Hn. Yeah. Apparently so.” Zoro snatched another kiss. “Now I need another shower. The bath is cold anyway.”
Sanji gave him a devilish look, the one that was starting to make Zoro’s belly tighten with excitement every time he saw it. “Maybe I don’t want you to wash your face off yet.”
“You keep saying things like that, I’m going to think that you like me.”
Sanji’s answering smile was soft and sincere. “There’s no question about that.”
Dinnertime on the Sunny was a boisterous affair. Ten crew members sitting together in a small space, talking over one another, laughing, arguing, reaching for second helpings, utensils clinking against plates. Luffy sat next to Usopp, who sat beside Zoro at the corner. Franky sat on the bar length bench near Zoro. Nami, Robin, and Chopper sat across from the three. Jinbe and Brook bookended the dining table. Sanji hovered around, passing out refills on drinks, taking empty serving dishes and bringing out additional helpings.
The Sunny had left Etsumi Shores late that afternoon, three days post-arrival, after restocking needed supplies and corralling Luffy. Nami had set a course directly between two of the three needles on the tri-log pose, to further explore and map the Grand Line searching for the last Road Poneglyph. The sun had settled beyond the horizon by the time dinner was served.
“I’m surprised we haven’t run into any marines,” Nami was saying, as she reached for her drink. “I would have thought there would be more of a presence.”
“Maybe they stick to the log pose destinations,” Franky suggested.
“It is possible, Franky-san,” Robin agreed. “It is likely a majority of the pirates sailing on the Grand Line will stick to the log-pose routes.”
“Unlike us. Because why should we stick to the well-traveled routes and instead sail off to unknown doom?” Usopp said. Nami glared at him, and he quickly added, “A good doom, because our navigator is so smart.”
“Sanji, may I have another sweet tea?” Chopper asked.
“Of course. Give me a moment,” Sanji replied, as he reached for an empty bread basket.
Zoro cleared his throat and said loudly enough that everyone could hear. “Sanji and I are in a relationship now, so if you see any bruises or other sex marks on me, that’s why.”
Conversation came to an abrupt halt. Nine pairs of eyes stared at Zoro in various states of shock. A fork dropped out of a hand and clanked against a plate.
Brook was first to recover. “Yo-ho-ho, what did my ears hear? You and Sanji-san are having sex?” he said. “Of course, I don’t have any ears… because I’m a skeleton!”
“Super!” Franky smacked Zoro hard on the back, causing Zoro to rock forward on his seat. “Way to go, Zoro-bro!”
Luffy flung himself at Zoro in one of his strangling hugs. “That’s great! What kind of sex marks? Can I see them?” He began trying to look down Zoro’s shirt.
Sanji turned bright red, pivoted on his heel, and escaped for the kitchen.
Nami passed Robin a folded Beli. “Luffy, you know what sex marks are?” Nami said incredulously.
“It is wonderful to hear that you and Sanji are in a relationship, Zoro-san,” Robin said with a serene smile, as she tucked the Beli down the front of her shirt.
“In this situation, I am presuming congratulations are in order?” Jinbe inquired, appearing bemused.
“Well, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?” Luffy replied to Nami. “I’ve seen Ace after he’s been with someone. It looked like he had a lot of fun!”
“I did not hear that, I did not hear that, I did not hear that.” Usopp put his fingers in his ears.
“I remember the last time I had a lot of fun with a lady.” Brook sighed and then looked at Nami. “Nami-san, can I see your pant–” A shoe smacked him in the face, cutting him off.
“Sanji, if you are leaving marks on Zoro, then we need to talk about safety!” Chopper hopped off his chair and hustled into the kitchen. “You’re lucky that I picked up a medical book on human mating customs and read about this. There are important dos and don’ts when it comes to rough sex play.”
“La-la-la, can’t hear anything.” Usopp began stuffing cotton in his ears. “Nothing at all!”
“I have made my own enhancements to increase enjoyment in the bedroom.” Franky motioned at his speedo with a cocky grin. “The ladies dig it.”
“How does one begin to tamper with the merchandise, Franky-san?” Brook inquired. “Were you not concerned about maintaining function?”
Chopper continued to lecture Sanji. “There is something called a safe word that you should be using every time.”
Zoro glanced over his shoulder, past the bar, into the kitchen. Red-faced, Sanji glared at Zoro, drawing a finger across his throat. Zoro gave him a sheepish grin.
“You know, I can stretch my penis from one end of the ship to the other,” Luffy commented, slinging back to his own seat. “Doesn’t feel too great when it snaps back, though.”
“Oh my.” Robin hid a snicker behind her hand.
“If I see your penis stretched across the ship, you’re going to be peeing out of a knot!” Nami threatened.
Jinbe continued to look from crewmate to crewmate with wide-eyed bemusement. “I had not realized you were all so open about your bodies.”
Usopp grabbed two bread rolls and held them against his cotton-stuffed ears. “Still not listening!”
Zoro finished seasoning the steaks with salt, pepper, and a blend he’d created of herbs and spices. He carried the plate over to the stovetop, where a pan had been pre-heating on a burner. Zoro set the plate down and added cooking oil to the hot pan. It sizzled, and he used the pan’s handle to spread the oil evenly across the bottom. Once coated, he added both steaks.
The smell of baked potatoes filled the galley. While the steaks cooked, Zoro pulled the potatoes out of the oven. He’d cleaned, oiled, and salted them before wrapping them in foil and putting them in the oven. He checked their doneness by sticking a fork in them. The potatoes felt soft. Zoro set them aside to cool.
After turning off the oven, Zoro retrieved two dinner plates from the latched cabinet. He checked the mixed vegetables he’d prepared, which were cooking on a pot on the stove. He gave them a stir and tested a piece. They were ready to be served.
Zoro turned off the burner beneath the vegetable pot. He moved the covered basket of bread rolls that he’d baked earlier to the bartop, along with the dish of butter. Sanji sat on the other side of the bar, watching him cook, an approving smile hovering on his lips. Two glasses of red wine had been poured from the bottle on the bar. Utensils and napkins were already placed out.
Zoro turned the steaks, then moved the potatoes to the dinner plates. He unwrapped the foil from them, disposing of it. With a deft hand, he split the potatoes open, used his fork to fluff the insides, and added a pat of butter and dollop of sour cream to each. He retrieved the pot of mixed vegetables from the stove and dished a helping on each plate. He dished the remainder of the mixed vegetables into a bowl, placed a cover over it, and moved it to the bartop.
Rain pattered lightly against the porthole windows of the galley. Night had fallen, and the crew had drifted off to various places on the Sunny to while away the time before bed. Zoro and Sanji hadn’t eaten with the others as Zoro had a special dinner planned for the cook. They’d been in a relationship for months now and Zoro had been cooking with Sanji for even longer. It was time Zoro showed Sanji how much he’d learned and that Sanji’s time spent teaching him was appreciated.
Zoro pressed his ring finger to his thumb, touched the meaty part of his palm beneath his thumb, then tempered the steak. They were done. Zoro turned off the burner and plated each steak. He added a pat of butter to each, as well as a sprig of parsley. He carried the plates to the bar and set one in front of Sanji. The other he put in his spot.
Sanji inhaled the aroma of freshly cooked food, his eyes closing. “It smells delicious.”
“Good.” Zoro removed his apron and hung it on the hook next to Sanji’s. “The steaks are the ones we picked up in Nohea Bay. They should be a good cut.”
“Of course they’re a good cut. I bought them.” Sanji topped off his wine glass as Zoro rounded the bar to join him.
Zoro slid onto the bar length seat and picked up his glass. He knew Sanji enjoyed toasting before a quiet meal. “Here's to hoping they taste good, too.”
Sanji clinked his glass to Zoro’s. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Zoro felt anxious, though he tried not to let it show. He’d cooked things on his own off and on over the past few months, but a majority of the time it was him and Sanji cooking together. This was the first time Sanji had sat back and said nothing while Zoro cooked specifically for him.
Zoro rubbed nervously at the faint bruise on his wrist that lingered from yesterday. They’d set up a private space for themselves – with the embarrassing help from Franky – in the unoccupied Soldier Dock 6. As long as Jinbe didn’t accidentally hit the wrong switch and flood the compartment, they had a place away from the crew to enjoy each other.
Sanji picked up his fork and knife and cut off a piece of the steak. Steam rose from the lightly pinked piece of meat. “Nicely cooked. The right amount of pink to brown in the center for a medium.”
Seated shoulder-to-shoulder with Sanji, Zoro watched as Sanji pulled the bite off his fork with his teeth. He’d faced formidable foes in the past and had never felt this anxious. He really wanted Sanji to like it.
Sanji chewed with a thoughtful expression. Once he swallowed, he dragged out the verdict by swirling his wine in his glass before taking a sip. Even then, he continued to hold his silence until Zoro couldn’t take it any more. “Tell me what you think, you curled-browed bastard.”
Sanji’s lips curved in a smirk. “Someone’s still impatient.”
“Punish me later. Just tell me what you think already!”
Sanji curved his hand around the nape of Zoro’s neck. “It’s fantastic, Chef,” he said, before leaning in to brush a kiss on Zoro’s lips.
Zoro felt a rush of pride and joy and a huge grin appeared on his face. Sanji liked it! “No kissing in the galley, remember?”
“My galley, my rules.” Sanji kissed him again before releasing him. “Eat your steak before it gets cold. I have plans of my own for you tonight.”
Zoro felt a different rush, right to his groin. “I love you, you know that?”
Sanji paused in cutting another piece of steak to glance at him. “Is that your horniness talking?”
It was, but it didn’t make it any less true. He pushed himself not to dismiss his words, which had been a surprise to hear even to him. “Can’t it be two things?”
Sanji set his fork and knife down and turned toward Zoro on the bench. He studied Zoro seriously. “Only if you mean it.”
Zoro suddenly felt bashful. It was ridiculous. He was a confident, self-possessed individual, but this was throwing him off-balance. Life-altering moments didn’t come that often. This wasn’t about liking Sanji both in and out of the bedroom. This was about permanence. He may have said the words off the cuff, but deep down he knew he’d meant them. He shifted on his seat and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I do.”
Sanji closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and held it a moment. When he opened his eyes again, Zoro could see relief reflected in them. “I thought I was the only one.”
It took Zoro a second to catch on to what Sanji meant: that was already in love with Zoro. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“The last time I offered my heart to someone, she called me a disgraceful failure and was going to shoot me dead,” Sanji replied flatly. “And I didn’t even love her.”
Zoro hadn’t known anything about that. He should have. He wished he’d asked. He could imagine how devastated Sanji was, because of how deeply he cared about everything. “She sounds like a bitch.”
Sanji smacked him upside the back of the head. “Don’t say mean things about my ex-fiancee.”
“Oi!” Zoro scowled at him. “I thought she broke your heart.”
“She got better, at the end.” Sanji turned back to his steak. “Eat your food, marimo.”
Zoro grumbled, picked up his fork and knife, and cut into his steak. “Crazy love cook.”
“Pretty swordsman.”
Zoro’s face whooshed into flames and he sputtered indignantly. “I’m not pretty!”
Sanji grinned rottenly. “How about foxy nipples?”
Zoro was aghast “No!”
“Sexy knickers? Wait, you don’t wear underwear. Strapping scrotum?”
“I hate you.”
“Lies.” Sanji’s eyes twinkled. “You love me.”
“I’m changing my mind.” Zoro stabbed his steak, his face still flaming red.
Sanji leaned over and whispered seductively in Zoro’s ear. “Sure about that, my precious pet?”
Zoro made a strangled sound. That one went right to his cock. Sanji chuckled knowingly. “Are you certain we can’t have sex in the galley?” Zoro said.
“No. Eat. Then shower. Then sex,” Sanji told him. “Someone made me this delicious steak and I would like to enjoy it.”
The pride Zoro had felt earlier crept back up. “Wonder who that was?”
Sanji nudged his shoulder affectionately. “Some dumbass who thought he could get into my pants by learning how to cook.”
Zoro grinned. “Worked, didn’t it?”
He never would have predicted this would be the outcome, though, when he’d overheard Sanji chatting up that guy on Dagger Isles. He’d hoped for a regular, casual roll in the hold. Instead, he found something special, and he planned on never letting go.
The first thought Zoro had upon meeting Sanji was Fuck, that guy is hot. The second thought was Fuck, that guy is annoying. Those two things hadn’t changed. But a third thought had entered the picture and stuck around for the long run.
Fuck, I love that guy.
End