A riot of color greeted the Sunny when they docked at Autumnal Bay. Reds, golds, and oranges decorated maple and oak trees, a crisp breeze crackling through the leaves. After running necessary errands, the crew dispersed to explore and enjoy the evening.
Sanji stood before the mirror in the men’s quarters, checking his appearance. He wore a burnt orange suit with a brown shirt, his royale goatee trimmed and hair just right. He looked forward to going out. New town, new ladies to worship, new men to pretend he wasn’t interested in. Although he’d sworn to himself, after Wano, that he’d at least try to hook up with a man. Realizing his own mortality, both physical and emotional, reminded him that his mother sacrificed herself for him and he owed it to her to really live.
Satisfied, Sanji checked his pocket for his smokes and beli, then headed into town.
The town itself wove through the stately trees. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as Sanji sought out a tavern. Night brought shadows, broken by lanterns on clapboard buildings. Townsfolk rolled up shop for the evening, heading home or for a night out at restaurants or bars.
He spotted the swinging sign of a good-looking option, between a tattooist and the Salt office. A couple, arm in arm, just went inside, and the sound of laughter and conversation spilled from the door as it opened. He quickened his step, looking forward to joining in.
A low moan caught Sanji’s attention and he glanced down the alley between buildings as he passed. His step faltered, eyes widening as he saw two men in the shadows, pressed up against the wall. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but that was Zoro with his hand down someone’s trousers, kissing like they were devouring each other.
Sanji didn't know Zoro liked men. Or maybe he knew it already – but Zoro didn’t talk about much of anything, least of all his sexuality. Still, seeing it with his own eyes threw everything sideways for a moment. Zoro and the guy continued to paw at each other hungrily, and when he heard a deep rumble of pleasure, he shot forward, striding quickly away from the alley and the sound of his crewmate getting off.
Heat burned his cheeks as he made a beeline into the tavern. The noise washed over him, talking, laughing, a few shouts. Warmth and the scent of fried food, beer, and mixed drinks filled the air. Servers threaded through the tables with balanced trays. Patrons sat at squared tables and at the bar, a few dice games and a raucous round of darts underway.
Sanji smoothed his tie, shaking off the image of what he’d witnessed. If Zoro wanted to mess around with someone in a dirty alley, it wasn’t his business. He was here to find companionship of his own.
The night stretched as Sanji bought rounds of drinks, flirting with the ladies who gave him time. His tie loosened and he said the right words, but his mind kept drifting to what he’d seen, what he’d heard. When the moon reached its peak, he went back to the ship alone.
The next morning, as the Sunny set sail, Sanji kicked Zoro in the head. Zoro scowled, mooring rope coiled over his shoulder. “Oi, what was that for?”
“Being you.”
Treble Island sang to them as they docked for the night. Wind blew constantly through hollowed rock, creating harmonious background notes to everything.
Sanji sat at a table in the lone tavern at the harbor, nursing a drink, trying not to stare at the waif hanging on Zoro’s bicep. Slender, with tousled black hair and coquettish features, the waif made cow eyes at Zoro, hanging onto his every word. Sanji didn’t know what bothered him more: that Zoro was letting himself be clung to, or that Zoro was talking at all.
Sanji normally didn’t pay attention to anything Zoro did. If they ended up in the same tavern, he’d made it a point to ignore the swordsman. They rarely interacted when they were both out on the town. But now Zoro held Sanji’s attention as questions flitted through his mind. Did this happen at every bar? How often did Zoro pick up men? Why was he letting that skinny wimp simper all over him?
He watched as Zoro knocked back the last dregs of his beer, curved a hand around the waif’s neck, and guided him toward the door. Maybe to find an alley, or a room. Sanji’s lip curled. He couldn’t believe Zoro had such shitty taste. Why would he want to bed such a nothing of a man? Zoro would dwarf him, all muscle and bulk. He’d probably break when they fucked.
Sanji could picture it – Zoro over that waif, thrusting hard, driving him into the bed, those stupid cow eyes gleaming wetly, simpering mewls falling from his lips. Sanji’s shoulders crawled toward his ears. He threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another. Then another. And one more.
But none could drown the pictures in his head. Another night out, ruined by Zoro again.
Sanji sat at the corner of the industrial bar, music throbbing around him. He fiddled with the glass in his hand, eyeing the man around the curve in the mottled, steel bartop. Brunet hair cut short, pointed goatee, muscular in a way that filled out his shirt, he made Sanji feel a tightness under his skin. He tried working up his courage to go over there, attempt to flirt. His palm sweated around the glass and his pulse beat unevenly.
He knew, once he took this step, he’d no longer be strictly a ladies man. He forced himself not to get into his head about it. He’d already gone through the stages of grief about his perceived masculinity. He just needed to let go and take the chance.
A flash of green drew his attention, and he spotted Zoro take a seat at the bar, a few stools down from the guy. Zoro signaled the bartender, ordered a drink, then let his gaze drift. Sanji watched as Zoro’s attention snagged on the brunet and a smirk appeared on his lips. He tilted his head slightly in invitation, and by the time he had his drink, the brunet was at Zoro’s side and the two of them soon departed the bar.
Sanji couldn’t decide whether to be angry or disappointed. Or relieved. He opted for drinking instead.
The hangover sucked.
On Fernball Island, Sanji didn’t even try to find anyone to share his time with. He was too busy trying to figure out what Zoro saw in the very tall, skinny man with violet hair down to his waist. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the bar, chatting casually. Their appearances were as disparate as the contrast between Zoro and that waif.
Zoro barely came up to the other man’s chest, yet his broad shoulders and muscles-on-muscles made him look like a giant in comparison. If Sanji didn’t know better now, he’d think Zoro was just passing time while he drank, unable to picture what Zoro could possibly see in the other guy. But soon enough, the two of them left together, the other guy’s hand lightly brushing Zoro’s waist.
Brow furrowed, Sanji contemplated just asking Zoro what drew his attraction. But that would mean Sanji would have to admit to watching Zoro and why, and he’d rather guzzle bleach.
Zoro flirted – his version of flirting, which amounted to talking and occasionally smirking – with a big, hairy guy with a beer belly.
Sanji stared. It felt impossible not to, despite being with a lovely woman with golden hair and a gap-tooted grin, ensconced in a booth at the tavern on Wayfeather Isle. She giggled a lot, liked to touch his arm, and Sanji’s handkerchief got a nosebleed workout. Their third drink sat in front of them, and the night promised a happy ending for him.
But the marimo had shown up, his familiar green head and swords grabbing Sanji’s attention. Zoro had taken one look at Beer Belly and sidled up to him like he was looking to score. And Sanji was just so thrown by it, he couldn’t help but stare, even as his own date cooed beside him.
Then the worst happened: Zoro caught him. A dark eye met Sanji’s across the tavern, a brow raising, and Sanji jerked his gaze away. Heat prickled his neck. Fuck. What was he doing, staring at Zoro while his date sat right there? And now he’d been caught at it.
Sanji took a long swig of his drink and purposefully turned to his date, throwing himself into flirting with her. Soon, Zoro and Beer Belly left together, and Sanji pretended he didn’t see it at all.
Zoro cornered Sanji in the men’s quarters the next morning after breakfast, arms folded. “You got a problem?”
“With you, always,” Sanji sneered, shutting his locker with a fresh pack of cigarettes in hand.
Zoro’s expression darked. “You keep staring at me in bars, at who I leave with. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He leveled Sanji with a look. “So – we gonna have a problem?”
Sanji’s shoulders tensed. Shit. Zoro had noticed the staring wasn’t limited to last night, and his tone carried the assumption that Sanji was judging him for being gay. “No. I don’t care who you’re interested in.”
“Good.”
Zoro left without another word, the door shutting hard behind him. Sanji stood there another minute, quietly cursing himself. Not just for being caught, or for giving Zoro the wrong idea, but for not telling him the full truth – that he liked men, too.
At their next stopover, Sanji made sure his back was to Zoro at the only bar in town. He flirted heavily with any woman who came within distance, buying drinks and throwing himself into the game. He didn’t see Zoro leave.
Treetopped Island sat nestled between two points on the tri-log pose route. Cultivated greenery in geometric shapes and artistic sizes grew between rows of painted buildings and homes. The Sunny docked as the sun sank over the horizon, planning a relaxing overnight.
Sanji sat at the bartop at a tavern near the bay. The back wall was open to the ocean, carrying the scent of salt and the sea breeze into the bar. He eyed the guy a few seats down. Clean cut, well groomed – maybe a banker or businessman. Sanji once again tried to work up his nerve to say hello with intent.
Zoro appeared at Sanji’s elbow before he could, a scowl creasing his brow. “I swear you’re following me.”
“I was here first,” Sanji told him pointedly, holding up his half-empty glass.
Zoro signaled for a beer. “Tch. Right.”
He leaned against the bar, glancing around. Sanji saw the moment Zoro spotted the guy. A now-familiar smirk appeared on Zoro’s lips, and he stared until the guy looked up. Interest flared. “My night at least got better,” he said, as the bartender set down his beer.
Disappointment and anger flared in Sanji. He grabbed Zoro’s arm before Zoro could move. “I saw him first.”
The words were out of his mouth without him thinking first, hanging in the air between them. Zoro looked at Sanji, brow arched. Sanji felt his face turn red. “Nevermind. Go.”
Zoro shifted, turning to fully face Sanji, blocking the guy with his back. “No. I want to hear more about how you saw him first.”
Sanji bristled, embarrassment and worse – fear – putting him on the defensive. “So you can mock me?”
Zoro met his eyes with a steady gaze. “Never about that.”
Sanji uncoiled slightly, though he remained tense. He knew Zoro wouldn’t, even if he weren’t gay. As fractious as their friendship was at times, they were nakama, and Zoro was a good man.
“Cook…,” Zoro pressed gently.
Sanji shifted on his seat, stared at the amber liquid in his glass, his fingers tense around it, and mumbled, “I’m trying it out.”
Zoro studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Be careful.” He picked up his beer and walked off.
Sanji tracked him to a table near the front of the tavern, pulse pounding in his ears. He’d just done that – revealed that he liked men. To Zoro. Who supported him with a quiet be careful. Sanji glanced at the guy down the bar again, who’d remained where he sat, not going to join Zoro.
Sanji straightened his tie, picked up his drink, and decided to try.
The man was, indeed, a banker. Nice, polite, with good manners. He made it clear that Sanji was not his type, with a glance toward Zoro.
Sanji didn’t let it bother him. At least he’d done something, finally, and he didn’t get struck down or break into hives or run screaming for the hills. His mom would be proud. “What do you see in him?” he asked, curious.
“He’s strong. Dirty. Rough,” the banker said. “You know what to expect with that type.”
Sanji glanced at Zoro. He was a smelly brute, but Sanji knew Zoro could be kind, soft-hearted, and gentle when he chose to be. It made Sanji wonder how Zoro might be with him, if they got together. Rough, like the banker presumed? Pin him down and take what he wanted? Or something else?
Sanji realized what direction his thoughts had gone in, and knocked back his drink.
Once he’d thought it, though, Sanji couldn’t stop. Days passed as the Sunny sailed on. He watched Zoro from afar, napping on deck, running katas shirtless, interacting with the crew. He thought about sex with Zoro, which both disturbed him and filled him with a warm wanting. He thought about Zoro’s hands. Zoro under him, over him. Zoro’s mouth. Zoro invaded his sticky dreams and haunted his daylight hours.
Sanji didn’t know what to do about it, other than kick him in the head more often. But their fights started to change in Sanji’s eyes. He saw Zoro’s skin flushed, the sheen of sweat on his golden skin, his bloodthirsty grin. Sanji needed to lock himself in the toilet after every spar. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and he ran out of cigarettes fast. It got to the point where he either needed to do something or jump off the ship.
Jumping was tempting, but his mom would be disappointed in him.
Dense forest blanketed Maineland Harbor, rolling over hills and spilling into the valleys. The air held the bite of winter’s approach. Sanji sat in a tavern near a cheery fire, drink in hand. Night stretched beyond the windows, dotted with lights from cozy cabins and log homes. Conversation floated around him, music tinkling from an old upright near the bar.
His gaze drifted to the ladies before sliding back to Zoro, seated at the bar. Zoro wore a t-shirt tonight, tight across his shoulders, the navy material stretched thin. His earrings occasionally caught the light.
Sanji knew what he wanted, should stop denying it, and make a move before the ginger slip eyeing Zoro did. He’d spent two miserable days without cigarettes because of that asshole and enough was enough. Zoro would turn him down and he could get on with his life. Find someone more attractive and less annoying.
He knocked back the remains of his drink, took a fortifying breath, and stood. He crossed the bar, stepping up beside Zoro, cutting the ginger from sight. “Hey.” Sanji didn’t look at him at first. Just stood there, shoulder brushing muscle.
Zoro glanced at Sanji curiously. “You blocking my view on purpose, shit cook? Want him for yourself?
Sanji set his empty glass on the bar, shooting a dark look toward the ginger. “Tch, no.”
“Why’re you bothering me, then?”
The bar noise pressed in. Glass clinked. Someone laughed too loud behind them. Sanji’s breath came faster, his heart hammering loud enough to be heard. He forced the words past his lips. “You and me.”
Zoro stared at him in confusion for a beat, then realization set in. “Us, having sex.”
Hearing it said aloud made Sanji’s stomach flip. His face became hot. “Yeah.” The response barely made it out.
“You ever done it with a guy?” Zoro asked carefully, eye steady on Sanji’s face.
Sanji had played with himself. It had been fine enough, at least. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted it, or just the idea of it. But if he couldn’t get Zoro out of his head, he’d never figure it out. “No,” he said defensively, glaring at Zoro. “That a problem?”
Zoro’s expression softened. “No.” He nudged Sanji with his shoulder, easy and unpressured. “C’mon.”
Sanji hadn’t expected agreement. He’d expected gentle rejection, because Zoro wasn’t actually an asshole. He’d expected Zoro to offer him a drink, to try to smooth any awkwardness, then disappear with the ginger. He’d expected to spend his night drowning in alcohol until he couldn’t see straight and forget about Zoro.
An odd tension rose in Sanji as he followed Zoro outside. “Where are we going?”
“Nearest inn.”
Sanji’s face heated again. So did his lower belly. He redirected Zoro the correct way.
Stars studded the night sky, broken by the sliver of moon. An owl hooted nearby. Welcoming lights shown in the windows of the inn, a long timber lodge built from logs. Zoro didn’t hesitate approaching reception, paying for a room. Sanji briefly wondered where he got the beli with a slightly hysterical edge.
Sanji’s footsteps sounded loud in his ears as they headed down the hall, key in Zoro’s hand. Zoro opened the door to room fourteen, flipping on the light.
A cozy queen bed with a colorful quilt stood front and center in the room, a picture of a snowcapped mountain hanging above it. An unlit fireplace took up one wall, a chair nearby. Curtains framed the window overlooking the forest. A door hid the ensuite; another door the closet.
“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Sanji muttered, hovering in the doorway, panic attempting to take hold.
“We can go back to the bar,” Zoro offered without judgment, “but I won’t do this with a drunk partner.”
Sanji hated that Zoro sounded sincere. He took it as a challenge. “No. Let’s do this.”
Zoro set his katanas against the wall, then crossed the room to close the curtains, blocking out the night. The sconces above the bed glowed softly. “How do you want it?”
Sanji wiped his damp palms on his trousers. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want to do me, or do you want me to do you?”
Both options sent heat rushing through Sanji. He tugged at his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his maroon shirt. If he did this, he wanted to know what it was like with a man in the only way it differed from a woman, but that was hard to say out loud. “Can’t you just do something?”
Zoro’s soft expression returned. He closed the space between them, his hand tangling loosely around Sanji’s tie. “How about we mess around and if you like something, I’ll keep going.”
Sanji nodded, heart suddenly racing. Up close, Zoro’s lashes were very long and a darker shade of green. He seemed casual, comfortable, as if this were just a normal thing between them. Sanji didn’t know whether to kick him or thank him.
Zoro’s lips tipped at the corners, then he leaned in and kissed Sanji.
The world slid from beneath Sanji’s feet.
Zoro’s lips were warm. Firm. Slightly chapped. They pressed simply against Sanji’s before retreating. He studied Sanji, gaze questioning. “That okay?”
Sanji swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said, in a shaky tone.
A quiet smile found Zoro’s mouth. His other hand rose to cup Sanji’s neck, leaning in to kiss him again. This time, intent drove it. Sanji parted his lips at the lick against the seam of his mouth and the kiss became deeper, hotter, more intense. Not rough, but not gentle, either. Sanji’s mind stuttered at the realization that he was kissing Zoro, but then Zoro grazed his bottom lip with his teeth, sending sparks of lust through him and Sanji stopped caring.
Zoro’s hand dropped from his tie to his waist, sliding behind, bringing their lower bodies flush. Sanji made a low, involuntary sound as their bodies pressed fully together. He felt a smile against his lips and hardness stirring against him. They kept kissing, pressed close like this, until Sanji was flushed and wanting.
Zoro pulled back slowly, his cheeks flushed, his gaze heavy. “Can I touch you?”
Sanji nodded swiftly, breathing heavily. Every inch of him felt like a live wire.
Zoro’s fingers nimbly worked the belt and zipper on Sanji’s trousers, and Sanji’s breath stuttered as his erection was freed from the confines of his boxers. A warm, calloused hand wrapped around the heated length and a curse tumbled from Sanji’s lips. “Fuck.”
He looked down, saw Zoro’s fingers around him. He throbbed in Zoro’s palm. Zoro stroked once, pulling a sharp breath from Sanji. Another man’s hand was on his cock. Zoro’s hand was on his cock. “Fuck,” he whispered again.
Zoro hummed, still stroking. “Okay if I take out mine?”
Sanji bucked in his grip. He nodded, unable to form a verbal response.
Zoro paused long enough to push down his own trousers around his thighs. Sanji was greeted with Zoro’s semi-hard length, surrounded by a thatch of green curls. Being on a ship together, in close quarters, meant they’d all seen each other naked at one point, but Sanji never really looked. A bubble of laughter threatened to escape Sanji’s lips. Of course the carpet would match the drapes.
Zoro stroked himself to full hardness, then pressed their shafts together. He began jacking them together, softer flesh moving against steel, heads flushed and leaking. He rested his forehead against Sanji’s, both of them staring down at what he was doing. “Why is that so hot?” Sanji said, breath uneven. The heated length against his caused his whole body to coil with tension, with want.
A quicksilver grin flashed across Zoro’s lips, as he kept stroking. “Want me to get you off like this?”
It was tempting. Very tempting. But… “I want more.”
“I can blow you.”
Sanji bucked hard with a sharp intake of breath. “You would…” he couldn’t finish.
Zoro heard it anyway. “Hn, yeah. I like giving head.”
Sanji’s knees felt weak. “Do– do that.”
Zoro grinned again, then released their shafts and immediately sank to his knees.
Sanji stared, wide-eyed. Zoro knelt before him, hard dick hanging out of his pants, arousal darkening his eye. He wrapped his fingers around Sanji’s cock again, then kissed the tip with a flirty glance up at Sanji. Sanji reeled, more so when Zoro slid his lips around the head and licked.
Sanji cursed loudly, locking his knees. “Fuuuuck.”
Zoro used his tongue to wet him all over before he began to suck. His hand remained at the base, stroking while his head bobbed. His mouth was hot, wet, and felt so fucking good. Sanji had experienced this with women, but this was Zoro doing it. Big, beefy, manly Zoro, sucking Sanji’s cock. Shit. That made it even hotter.
Sanji’s fingers combed through Zoro’s hair, tangling in the green strands. Zoro hummed, glancing up beneath his lashes. He was into it. Sanji suddenly wondered if he’d enjoy it, too. His tongue slid over his lips, imagining himself on his knees, doing it to Zoro. Both fear and excitement surged at the thought. “Can I–”
Zoro drew back, hand still stroking. His lips glistened, red and faintly swollen. “Can you..?” he prompted quietly, welcomingly.
Sanji chewed his lower lip and blurted, “Try it on you?”
Zoro didn’t smirk, or tease. He just smiled softly. “Anything you want.”
He released Sanji, climbing to his feet. He sat on the edge of the bed, the colorful quilt depressing beneath him. His trousers draped around his ankles, over his boots. His erection speared from between his legs, flushed and veined, the swollen head a darker hue. “Want me to watch?”
The question made Sanji’s panic flutter back to life. He shook his head quickly. “Don’t.”
Zoro nodded, unbothered, and laid back, dropping his arm over his face. His green haramaki rucked up slightly, exposing the faint scars on his lower belly from all the fights they’d been in.
Sanji fixed his trousers, trapping his hard-on in the band of his boxers. He closed the distance, heart pounding with anticipation and nervousness. He sank to his knees between Zoro’s thighs, his own knees pressed against the material trapping Zoro’s ankles. Zoro thighs tensed, then relaxed.
Sanji stared at Zoro’s cock. Close up, it wasn’t that different from his own, maybe a bit smaller. He tentatively reached out and wrapped his fingers around it. It jumped in his hand. It felt similar, too. With all Zoro’s muscles, Sanji’d expected it to be big when hard, but it was average. Non-threatening. Relieving in a way.
Zoro breathed steadily, his chest rising and falling under his t-shirt. Sanji geared himself up, then tried putting the head in his mouth. It felt weird. Soft and hard at once. Zoro swore quietly, hand curling into a fist. Sanji tried swirling his tongue around the head, like Zoro had. It tasted salty and bitter at the tip.
Sanji’s pulse rushed in his ears. He was doing this. He was giving his first blowjob.
“Feels good,” Zoro murmured, arm still draped over his face.
Emboldened, Sanji tried taking more into his mouth, bobbing his head, hand at the base like Zoro did on him. It made his jaw ache and his lips stretch awkwardly. There was a lot of drool. It felt like he had a bratwurst in his mouth, trying to eat too much at once.
It didn’t take long for him to realize he didn’t really like it. But should he keep going? He’d look weak if he stopped. He paused, hesitant. Zoro noticed immediately. “You want to stop?” he asked.
Sanji pulled off, insisting stubbornly, “I can do it.”
Zoro moved his arm, looking down at him. “This isn’t a contest.”
Sanji looked away, a tilt to his chin. But Zoro went on before he could respond. “Never do something you don’t like. Sex is supposed to be enjoyable.”
“I know that,” Sanji snapped.
Zoro sat up, looming over Sanji who knelt before him. It made Sanji instantly uncomfortable, like a power play. His defenses rose even more. But Zoro cupped his cheeks between his palms, expression infinitely caring. “I just want this to be good for you.”
Sanji’s chest tightened. “What about you?”
Zoro’s smile crinkled the corner of his eye. “No worries there.”
Sanji’s breath was stolen from him. At how attractive Zoro was when he smiled that way. He floundered, caught between emotions. “Why the hell are you being like this?”
“You only get one first time,” Zoro said quietly. “Mine sucked. And you matter.”
Fuck. Something warm bloomed behind Sanji’s ribs. He surged upward and kissed Zoro.
Zoro met him kiss for kiss, passion building between them again. Any lingering doubts disappeared. This was what he’d hoped for his first time with a guy – for it to be laced with caring, without concern that he’d make a fool of himself. That he could be in the moment, celebrate it for what it was: freedom from his past, from his self-imposed shackles, from appearance and perceived weakness and the version of himself he thought he had to be.
“Touch me,” Sanji told him, against his lips.
“Where?”
“Everwhere.”
Zoro’s mouth curved, a soft glint in his eye as he drew back. “Take off your clothes.”
Sanji moved to undress. Zoro drew off his t-shirt and haramaki, tossing them across the room. He shucked his boots and trousers. Then he lay back, all muscles and hardness, body more golden in the lamplight. Sanji salivated and he quickly finished removing his clothing, crawled over Zoro, and captured his mouth in another kiss.
He shuddered with pleasure, his naked body flush against Zoro’s, feeling Zoro’s hard cock dig into his hip. Zoro’s rough palms slid up his back, holding him close, mouth moving against his, tongues tangling in an erotic dance. He rolled them suddenly, putting himself on top, pressing Sanji into the bed.
Sanji let out a low sound in the back of his throat. This was what he’d wanted, to feel hardness against him, not just an erection, but muscles, strength. “Do that thing again,” he said.
Zoro drew back and looked at him questioningly. Sanji pushed his hips upward. “With your hand.”
Zoro’s soft smile returned. “Like that, did you?”
He sat up, straddling Sanji’s thighs. He pressed their cocks together, base to base, balls resting against balls. Zoro’s length was a head shorter when lined up properly. It did things to Sanji that he liked – a lot. Zoro was definitely a man, but if he were any bigger, Sanji might not be able to go farther. He had enough struggles with self-worth and acceptance with his new desires.
Zoro stroked them together, his lips parted slightly. He watched Sanji, not his hand, but his face, a flush to his skin. Heat built in Sanji, spiraling higher with every stroke.
“Want to get off like this?” Zoro asked, his voice low, a little rough.
Sanji did, but then he’d lose the aroused excitement with his release, and that was what was carrying him, allowing him to do this at all. He shook his head. “I wanted to–” he cut off, because if he said, it would cross that line he couldn’t undo. Not that he wasn’t already naked with another man who had his hand on Sanji’s cock.
Zoro’s lips curved knowingly, but still not mocking. He released their cocks, and slid his hand down, past Sanji’s balls, to press beneath them. “Have you played with yourself here?” His finger brushed over Sanji’s hole.
Sanji swallowed, body tightening at the touch. He’d tried it a few times in the bath, when he decided he did want to try something with another man. “I took a shower,” he said instead.
Zoro hummed, pressing again without penetration. “Let me get something.”
He moved off Sanji, retrieving his trousers. He removed a small tube of lube from his pocket and returned. Sanji clenched and tried not to squirm. Anticipation rose inside him, along with a little panic.
Zoro climbed onto the bed beside Sanji, dropping the tube by his hip. He pressed a kiss to Sanji’s lips. “If you don't like it, it’s okay. Not everyone does.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I’m versatile.”
Sanji’s mind conjured up images of Zoro being fucked. Of Sanji fucking Zoro. His body throbbed with fire. It must’ve reflected on his face, because Zoro’s mouth quirked. “Like that idea, huh? Of fucking me?”
“Yes.” Sanji’s breath gave him away. “But…”
“But you want to experience what it’s like,” Zoro answered for him.
“Yeah.”
Zoro ran his hand down Sanji’s flank. “Do you want to stay like this, or turn over?”
Sanji frowned slightly. “Does it matter?”
Zoro shook his head. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Sanji studied Zoro’s face. Did he want to look at Zoro, be exposed like that, or hide away. “Just… do something.”
Zoro kissed him again in response, long and deep, until Sanji felt like he was melting into the bed. Then, he took one of the pillows, tucked it under Sanji’s hips, and began kissing down his torso. When he reached Sanji’s cock, he gave it a lick, which caused Sanji to hiss and buck. He smiled briefly, then asked, “Can I use my tongue on you?”
“You just did.”
“I meant here.” He moved his hand between Sanji’s legs, brushing against his raised backside.
Sanji’s breath stuttered. “People do that?”
“Yeah. Some.” Zoro’s lips curved again. “I like doing it.”
Part of Sanji was leery, a little grossed out. The other part of him wanted to give in, try it. He had showered before venturing out, in case. Zoro would stop if he didn’t like it. “Okay.”
Heat banked in Zoro’s eye, his slow smile turning sinful. He slid down further, adjusting Sanji’s legs, draping them over Zoro’s broad shoulders. He pressed a kiss to Sanji’s thigh, then brushed another against his balls, then licked beneath his sac. The pillow tilted his hips enough that Zoro had easy access, and when a tongue ran across his hole, he gasped.
Zoro did it again, and Sanji’s entire body went taut. He hadn’t realized how sensitive it was, how Zoro’s tongue lapping against it felt sent tingles of electricity spreading through him. “Holy shit,” he breathed, fingers curling in the quilt on either side of him. He stared up at the ceiling, body heating fast. His erection throbbed, want tangling in his belly.
Zoro hummed again, tongue working him over, pressing, licking, mouth moving against him in the dirtiest kiss. The sound was obscene. Sanji panted and tried not to writhe, his heels digging into Zoro’s back. Sanji really, really liked it. He could get off on this. He would get off on this.
But he needed to stop, because he wanted more. Wanted Zoro fully while riding the waves of lust. “Zoro, I want– fuck.”
Zoro understood, drawing back, brushing his damp mouth against Sanji’s thigh. “You want me in you.”
Sanji nodded against the pillow beneath his head, body aching, desire thrumming through him. He heard the cap of the tube being opened, the squirt of lube. Then Zoro’s slick finger was circling Sanji’s tongue-dampened hole. Sanji’s breath hitched as Zoro pressed against him without entering. He clenched subconsciously.
Zoro pressed several warm kisses along Sanji’s thigh and lower belly before taking Sanji’s length into his mouth. Sanji bucked reflexively as wet heat closed around him. A curse fell from his lips, hand grabbing at Zoro’s hair. “Ah, fuck!”
Zoro sucked him lightly, head bobbing, still pressing his finger against Sanji’s hole without penetrating. Sanji started to relax, distracted by Zoro’s mouth. He felt the tip of Zoro’s finger enter him and he tensed. Zoro let it sit there, using his tongue against Sanji’s shaft.
Sanji reminded himself that he wanted this, let himself give in to his desires. His body relaxed in increments as Zoro continued to suck him. Zoro’s finger slipped in. It felt like his own, but also not. Weird, but good. Zoro slid his finger in and out, going to the edge before pressing back in without any hurry, his mouth mimicking his actions.
After a few minutes, Sanji started to squirm. He wanted more. Zoro read him again, and pressed in a second finger. “Oh, fuck,” Sanji’s breath caught, pleasure coursing through him.
Zoro pulled off his shaft, resting his cheek against Sanji’s hip, gazing up at him. He fingered Sanji slowly, watching Sanji’s reactions. “Good?”
Sanji nodded, rocking his hips to meet Zoro’s fingers.
“How about now?” Zoro crooked his fingers and rubbed at a sensitive spot inside Sanji.
Sanji’s shot upright, abs crunching, as intense shocks pulsed through him. “Shit. Fuck. Holy hell.”
Zoro let off, pressing another kiss against his hip. “Want me to keep doing that? You’ll probably come.”
Did he? He did. But he really wanted to try sex. He shook his head. “Not this time.”
Zoro smiled against his skin, and worked a third finger into him. Sanji exhaled at the stretch, the slight burn. He sank back onto the bed again, as Zoro took his shaft between his lips. He didn’t bob his head this time, instead warming it in his mouth. He continued to slowly fuck Sanji with three fingers, and Sanji stared up at the wood ceiling and just allowed himself to feel.
He really enjoyed it. Felt himself letting go, giving over, heat building in a different way. He didn’t want it to stop, wanted this feeling to grow and grow until he tumbled over into release.
Zoro hummed softly, the vibration running through Sanji’s cock. He released Sanji and asked quietly, “You want to move on?”
Sanji felt relaxed, aroused, and most importantly, ready. He did want this. Want Zoro. “Yeah.”
Zoro kissed hip again, removed fingers and grabbed the lube. Kneeling up, he slicked his erection, then wrapped Sanji’s legs around his waist. He slid one hand under Sanji’s hips, used the other to position himself. Sanji breathed heavily, watching Zoro with half-lidded eyes. Zoro didn’t hesitate or ask if he was sure. He watched Sanji’s face as he pressed steadily in.
It didn’t hurt, but it stretched with an unfamiliar twinge. He felt full, oddly like he needed the toilet. Zoro moved with slow, short thrusts until he was seated within Sanji. Then he paused, resting his hand on Sanji’s stomach. “Okay?”
Sanji nodded slightly. He tried not to be overwhelmed, because there was no turning back. He had a cock inside him.
“Gonna start moving,” Zoro said, shifting forward, over Sanji. Their chests brushed, Zoro’s hand pressing into the bed beside Sanji, the other still beneath his hips. Zoro drew back and pushed forward again.
He moved slow, steady, unrushed. Sanji could feel every centimeter inside him, rubbing against his inner walls. Zoro’s breath was warm above him. He kept Sanji’s gaze as he rocked his hips. His lower belly pressed against Sanji’s hard shaft, but only enough to tease.
It did feel good. Not fantastic, but tingly and pleasant. It was Zoro, though, that made it better. His tenderness. His caring. His obvious want for Sanji to have the perfect first time. Sanji could only stare helplessly into Zoro’s gaze and slowly fall apart. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Zoro’s eye crinkled with his smile. “Anything for you.”
It wasn’t a declaration. More of an acknowledgment. Of how deeply they cared about each other. On how they understood each other. On trust and friendship that went beyond the surface bickering to bind them tightly.
Sanji stretched and met Zoro’s mouth in a soft kiss. Zoro made a quiet sound of contentment, and when Sanji rested his head back on the pillow, the smile was still there.
“You want me to find the angle to hit that spot?” he asked.
Sanji agreed, and Zoro knelt up, lifted Sanji’s hips onto his thighs, and began thrusting again, adjusting until Sanji lit up in sparks, seeing stars.
That was pretty much the end. He'd been in the grips of arousal for so long, when the spot was hit, he started falling over the edge. Wave after wave of intense pleasure rolled through him, making his body clench and shutter. He threw his head back on the pillow, and then Zoro’s hand wrapped around his cock and climax slammed through him. White out splintered behind his eyes, and he was gone.
He felt Zoro pull out while in the in-between haze. Felt warm, wet spend hit his cock and belly. Felt Zoro settle beside him, a hand on his chest over his heart.
Sanji slowly came down, the inn room coming back into focus around him. Sconce light glimmered across sweat-slick skin and the milky haze of semen. The air held a warm, lingering hush. Sated lethargy weighed his limbs, his eyelids.
“That okay?” Zoro asked quietly.
A small, satisfied laugh rolled through Sanji’s chest. “Yeah, marimo. It was okay.”
Zoro shifted up, softness in his gaze. He brushed a kiss on Sanji’s lips. “You’ll want to clean up,” he said, tone low, guiding.
Sanji agreed, and he rose from the bed, not sore but aware that he’d done something new. He went into the ensuite, shutting the door behind him. The mirror above the sink caught his reflection – mussed hair, flushed skin, bright eyes, a smile tilting the corners of his mouth. Another laugh escaped him, this one a little wild, a lot happy. He’d done it. He’d braved the step forward, fought past his own insecurities and the belief that it would make him lesser. He’d finally freed that which he’d bottled up inside him for so long.
He met his own gaze in the mirror, smile still lingering. “Thanks, mom.”
After cleaning up, Sanji left the ensuite in need of a smoke and sleep. His step paused when he saw Zoro lying on the bed, half-propped by the pillow. Messy green hair, all bulk and muscle, scarred and brutish, rough around the edges. Soft and kind and infinitely caring.
Warmth squeezed Sanji’s heart and his breath stuttered softly. “Oh.”
Zoro glanced over, a half-smile playing on his lips. He got up, crossed the distance between them. His hand brushed Sanji’s hip as he passed, disappearing into the ensuite.
Sanji took a shaky breath, fished out his cigarettes and lighter, and opened the window. He lit up and leaned against the sill, taking in the night forest beyond the curtained shelter of the room. His brain turned over the notion that he didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, that somewhere along the way he’d developed deeper feelings than he’d thought and that he wanted to explore them.
Zoro stepped out of the ensuite when Sanji was nearly finished with his cigarette. Only then did Sanji realize Zoro had taken his time on purpose, giving him space to smoke and think. The consideration made Sanji like Zoro all the more.
“Want me to go?” Zoro asked – another consideration, giving Sanji an out, a way to put distance between them and what happened.
Sanji shook his head. “Stay.”
Zoro’s smile stole Sanji’s breath, and Sanji had to turn away. He heard Zoro settling in bed as he finished his smoke, crushing out the butt against the sill. He closed the window, redrew the curtains, and got the light. He didn’t hesitate to join Zoro, no doubt or questions rattling in his head. He slid beneath the sheet, curling up beside Zoro, and released a low, content sigh.
Zoro’s hand tentatively closed around his between them, and Sanji drifted off to sleep with a small smile.
Morning brought soft, early sunlight, slipping through the small gap in the curtains over the window. Birds twittered outside, their lyrical song stirring Sanji awake. He was on his stomach, arms pushed beneath the pillow, Zoro’s hand a heavy weight on his lower back. He opened his eyes and found Zoro awake, turned toward him, wearing a soft expression that made Sanji’s heart flutter. “Good morning,” he said, equally as soft.
Sanji felt himself blushing. “Hey.”
“How do you feel?”
Sanji paused, searing for the true answer. “Content.”
Zoro smiled, slow and bright. “Glad to hear it.”
Sanji wanted to bury his face in the pillow. Instead, he said, “Don’t get smug.”
Zoro chuckled quietly, hand idly moving on Sanji’s back. “Have any preferences from last night?”
Sanji hummed, liking the feeling of the rough palm lightly catching against his skin. “Think I preferred your fingers, and you stroking our dicks. Your mouth on me.”
Zoro nodded. “Everyone’s different, and none of it's wrong.”
“What about you?” Sanji asked.
Zoro’s eye darkened, a sinful smirk crossing his lips. “Using my tongue. I’ve had dreams of you sitting on my face with those thighs of yours, eating you until I pass out.”
Heat flared in Sanji’s belly, his cock stirring where it pressed against the bedding. “That guy on that one island - the banker – said he wanted you because you’d be rough.”
“I can be whatever my partner wants,” Zoro said, fingertips tracing up Sanji’s spine. “But it’s not my preference.”
“And what is?”
“Soft. Slow.” Zoro leaned close to press a kiss against Sanji’s shoulder. “Lots of kisses.”
A laugh stirred in Sanji’s chest, teasing, not cruel. “You want dinner and someone to make love to you?”
“Yeah.” Zoro gave him a shit-eating grin. “What can I say? I’m a romantic.”
The laugh spilled from his lips, rolled throughout the room. Sanji liked this Zoro as much as he liked the one he bickered with on a regular basis. He pushed up and leaned over to give Zoro a long, deep kiss, morning breath and all.
He drew back, hunger in his eyes, want in his belly. “How long do we have the room?”
Zoro’s gaze darkened. “‘Til ten.”
Sanji's smile sharpened as he knelt up and swung his leg over Zoro’s face. “Let’s make your dreams come true, then.”
They wandered back to the Sunny late morning, winter’s teeth nipping at their skin. People strolled between shops; vendors displayed their wares. Haggling and conversation drifted through the air. Sanji’s hand caught Zoro’s sash whenever he veered off course.
Sanji’s thoughts wandered, too. He felt content. Comfortable. He’d been enamored by the glazed look in Zoro’s eye after being thoroughly tongued to orgasm. They’d cleaned up and returned to bed, kissing until Sanji stirred again. Then, he made love to Zoro, and it was the best of everything they’d done: Zoro open and responsive, Sanji moving against him, in him, holding him close. Every part of Sanji felt connected to him, and it had been exactly right.
Sanji didn’t know what would happen after this. Beneath the rough spots, he saw the same Zoro he always had – soft, tender, and caring. Only now Sanji wanted to give back, too–
Sanji kicked Zoro’s ankle.
–but not too much.
Zoro knocked into Sanji’s shoulder. Sanji kicked him harder. Zoro drew a katana, a big grin on his face. Within seconds, heel met blade, and they fought all the way back to the ship.
Pale sunlight spilled across the dock, the air sharp with salt. The Sunny bobbed in its moorings, lines creaking in the cold. Blocks knocked softly overhead.
On deck, Zoro sheathed his sword and turned toward the rigging. “Later, cook.”
“Hey, marimo,” Sanji said, hands in his pockets, exhaling smoke from between his lips. The breeze ruffled his hair, and he didn’t bother smoothing it down.
Zoro paused and glanced back at Sanji.
“Next time, I’ll buy you dinner first.”
Zoro’s eye crinkled with his warm smile. “It’s a date.”
End