“We’re going into town, Jinbe’s on watch, and neither of you are leaving this room until you learn how to get along!”
Nami slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside with a final, emphatic click.
Silence descended in the men’s quarters. Sanji looked at Zoro. Zoro looked at Sanji.
They moved as one, rushing to the wide couch Franky had gotten in Wano and hauling it to the door to block it. The other door into the room no longer worked.
Zoro drew his katanas from his waist, setting them on the couch. Sanji pulled his tie free, unbuttoning his shirt as he headed for his locker. By the time he’d turned around, oil in hand, Zoro was naked in his bunk, legs spread, hard and waiting.
Sanji salivated. He swiped his wrist under his bleeding nose, finished undressing in a hurry, and joined Zoro in the bunk. He moaned deeply when their heated flesh met. “Fuck. It’s been too long.”
“Too fucking long,” Zoro agreed, and dragged Sanji down into a kiss.
Over the past few months, they couldn’t catch a break. Every time they’d try to sneak off for some alone time, they’d get interrupted by one of the crew wanting help, wanting to play, wanting food. And if it wasn’t that, then Marines were attacking, or other pirate ships, or they had started another revolution. They’d managed a quick blowjob in the pantry and a soapy handjob in the bath, but that was it. Even kissing became sporadic pecks in passing, and it had sent their frustration levels through the roof.
As a result, they fought more – stupid arguments that led to physical fighting that shook the ship. They’d dented doors, broken rails, and even sheared the main deck tree. They barely held back, giving Chopper mini-aneurysms every time he had to apply burn salve or bandages. Sanji learned exactly how much force his body could withstand before he was too crushed to continue without repair.
The fight on the deck that morning had been epic. Sanji had gotten an unexpected haircut, the lawn had caught on fire, and the mizzen mast now listed slightly leeward. Nami – and everyone else except Luffy, who just laughed – were so done with their shit. Luffy, the traitor, had chucked them into the men’s quarters and Nami had delivered her ultimatum.
And Sanji and Zoro were finally – finally – alone.
They kissed messily, hungrily, Zoro’s fingers clutching at Sanji’s lopsided hair. Sanji shifted his hips, which tore loud moans from both of their throats. Sanji drew back, because this was going to be over before it started if he waited too long.
Zoro’s kiss-pinked lips curved into a pout that didn’t last when Sanji slicked his fingers and slipped them downward. Sanji’s mouth curved into a smile at the familiar wrinkle of Zoro’s nose as Sanji pushed into him.
He’d never thought that Zoro and cute belonged in the same sentence until he started paying attention. That’s when he learned that Zoro could be soft, and cute, and silly, and shy, and a little stupid, and so very sensitive. His bluntness and pragmatism made him seem uncaring; in reality, he cared deeply about everyone and everything, and no one judged him more harshly than himself.
Sanji had fallen – hard – long before he did anything about it. When he finally got up the courage to upend his life, with no guarantee he wouldn’t be rejected, Zoro turned five shades of red and whispered, “No one’s ever liked me before.”
And that was the end. Sanji would never let this man go.
Sanji bent his head, capturing Zoro’s lips again as an upswell of affection threatened to overwhelm him. “Shitty cook,” Zoro whined softly against his mouth, shifting his hips impatiently. “C’mon already.”
Sanji huffed a quiet laugh, shifting to grab the oil. “Getting desperate there, marimo?”
“Yes.”
The honesty made Sanji want to kiss Zoro again, so he did, silencing impatient curses with his lips and tongue. But want pulled at Sanji just as hard, and he finally slicked himself, pushed Zoro’s knee back, and pressed into him.
Zoro’s eye squeezed shut with a drawn out moan, his body spasming around Sanji’s length. Sanji had to close his own eyes and rein in his control as the tight heat surrounded him. “‘M’not gonna last,” he confessed in a murmur. It had been too long, Zoro’s body too perfect.
“Me, neither,” Zoro breathed, fingers clenching at Sanji’s shoulders. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Sanji agreed, and began to move.
The first pull back and thrust ripped dual sounds of pleasure from them. The next sent the bunk rocking on its chains. Zoro pressed his heel into Sanji’s back, urging him on, and Sanji set a rhythm that didn’t let up. Desire, longing, and lust licked fire through Sanji’s veins. The air grew heavy with heat and the scent of sex. Throaty moans and breathy gasps underscored the soft slap of skin against skin and creak of the chains.
Sanji shifted Zoro’s knee again, tearing a cracked plea from him: “Right there, right there, right there.”
He slid his eyes open to watch Zoro fall apart. Zoro scrunched his flushed face, ragged breaths tearing from his kiss-bruised lips. He tipped his head back, then rolled it to the side, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his neck. Tendrils of green hair fell over his forehead. He looked breathtaking, and no one else had ever seen him like this. And if Sanji had his way, no one ever would.
“Fuck, I love you,” Sanji whispered, and Zoro’s fingers convulsed on his shoulders and he came with a soft, broken sound. Sanji felt him pulse around him, drawing him swiftly to the edge. He bent and captured Zoro’s lips, driving himself to completion with the kiss.
Zoro’s fingers curled into his hair, holding him as the kiss slowed, becoming tender and unhurried in the afterglow. Sanji settled against him, bodies warm, staying seated inside. He wouldn’t mind staying just like this until desire stirred again.
An explosion rocked the Sunny against its mooring.
Zoro groaned, Sanji began cursing up a storm. They disentangled, got up, got washed, got dressed, and moved the couch before Jinbe’s inevitable arrival.
And as the lock clicked open, Zoro turned to him with a blush and said, “We should just ask for our own room.”
Making this real. Making this permanent. Making this no longer a secret.
Sanji grabbed his hand before he could leave, heart full to bursting, and repeated, “I love you.”
Zoro graced him with a shy little smile. “Me, too.”
Later, after the dust had settled and bandages applied, Nami folded her arms with a stern expression. “So, have you figured out how to get along?”
Sanji looked at Zoro. Zoro looked at Sanji.
“We’ve got another job for Franky…”
End