What started out as a brief stopover for supplies turned into a battle against the local despot terrorizing the town – a normal occurrence for the Straw Hat crew.

Little Lotus Harbor was named for the lotus blossoms that grew in the water around the island. The summer climate with its warm weather and full sun caused the pink and white blossoms to thrive. The small settlement on the island had grown into a large town. The haphazard building of additional housing and business created a warren of alleys. The governor’s building, with its gleaming pink stucco and dark wood beams, rose on a hillside overshadowing the entire town.

Sanji straightened his pale green tie and the cuffs of his darker green shirt, his burning foot on the back of a felled soldier. The local militia forces had come out in full force once the Straw Hats had attacked the governor’s building. He’d lost the others somewhere in the maze of hallways and rooms that made up the enormous building. It was as if a builder kept tacking onto the existing structure without rhyme or reason.

Luffy had claimed dibs on the Governor, leaving it up to the rest of them to take out anyone else who posed a threat. Sanji knew Zoro had his sights on the Lieutenant Governor, a massive man with a greatsword the size of Zoro. Sanji let him have that fight. Sanji had his own goal: to find the Tax Collector. The people of the town were terrified of the Tax Collector, more so than the Governor or Lieutenant Governor. If the people didn’t pay their obscenely high taxes, first they had a visit from the militia, who “incentivized” them to pay, and if they still put up a protest, they were brought before the Tax Collector and, when they returned home, they were crazy. Truly crazy. They screamed and cried and tore their hair out. Some bashed their skulls into the walls. Most committed suicide. Whatever the Tax Collector had done to these people was horrifying, and Sanji was going to put a stop to it.

Sanji picked a direction in the hall junction and continued his hunt. He’d already searched the main floor of the building. He’d decided to go down a level, thinking that money would be held in a vault and a safer place for that would be below ground. The walls of the building were painted a painfully bright orange and the floor was a red and black checkerboard tile. Wood doors led to offices and meeting rooms. There was minimal decoration. Below ground, gas sconces provided light.

When the attack commenced, a majority of the workers fled. What remained were those loyal to the Governor and his militia. Sanji took out any militia man who stood in his way. He was grateful that he hadn’t run into a woman. He’d seen a few in uniform when they first stormed the building, but none had come after him so far.

Sanji heard a loud sound from overhead and watched as a large crack appeared along the hallway ceiling. The fighting was getting heavier. He knew that Franky, Nami, Chopper, and Usopp were clearing the outside courtyard. Robin, Brook, and Jinbe had gone to the main and upper floors to clear them out. Zoro and Luffy had their own targets.

Sanji opened another door, found a store room, and shut it again. He was getting frustrated. Where was this Tax Collector hiding? He had to be somewhere in the building. They hadn’t seen him leaving. Unless he had a secret way out, which was possible. Sanji would be pissed if he had to hunt all over the island for the man, or if the man sailed to escape.

The sound of pounding footsteps headed in his direction from around a corner. Sanji kicked his toe against the floor, lighting his leg afire. He waited until he saw the first of three militia men round the corner before slamming his foot into the man’s face. The surprised man went flying, crashing into the hallway wall, causing it to crater. His dented face smoldered.

The other two militia men immediately fired upon Sanji with their pistols. Sanji didn’t bother to dodge. The bullets bounced harmlessly off his exoskeleton as he flipped onto his hand and doubled kicked with his feet, catching both men under the chin. They shot up to the ceiling, cracking their heads. They fell to the floor in a heap.

Sanji extinguished his leg again and fixed his hair. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled the nicotine to soothe his agitation over not finding the Tax Collector. He continued down the hallway in the direction the three militia men had been coming from. He passed five more empty rooms before he found a barred door leading to a stairwell going down. Either it was a dungeon or protection from would-be thieves. Sanji was hoping for the latter.

Sanji kicked the barred door off its hinges, watching as it bounced loudly down the stairs. He followed it, the gas lights on the wall leading the way. When he reached the bottom, he found himself in front of another barred door. This one received the same fate as the last one.

Stepping into a larger room, Sanji could see this was some sort of accounting place. He smiled darkly. If the Tax Collector was in the building, he’d be somewhere down here. Tables, chairs, ledgers, and Beli counting equipment filled the room. Money had been left scattered on the tables by fleeing workers. There appeared to be a stack of paintings leaning against a wall. Two doors led from the back. The one on the left appeared to be a vault door. The one on the right, a regular wood one.

Sanji took the door on the right, kicking it off its hinges as well. The door crashed onto the floor several feet into an office. Same orange walls, same red and black checkered tile floor. A massive desk took up most of the room directly across from the door. A tea service was set on a rolling cart near it. Curtains hung on the walls, giving the illusion of windows despite being below ground. A leather sofa lined one the wall to the right with a record player beside it. A large aquarium filled the left side of the room, with tropical fish and lotus blossoms filling it. A coat rack with a large coat hanging from it stood to the left of the door.

Sanji didn’t see the Tax Collector, but knew he was in the room. His observation haki told him that much. He was much better at sensing women than men. He boldly stepped into the room, knowing there were limited places for the bastard to be hiding.

A rustle to his left, and Sanji spun a kick directly into the target. The Tax Collector had been standing on the other side of the coat rack. Sanji’s unlit shoe pinned him to the ugly orange wall. The Tax Collector was short, stout, and wore rainbow colored sunglasses over his eyes. His long white hair was tied in a topknot on his head. He wore a fancy mauve suit with gold piping. Sanji might appreciate the tailoring if the guy wasn’t a terrorizing asshole.

“Times up, Tax Collector,” Sanji said around his cigarette. It wasn’t the cleverest of quips, but he wasn’t here to make jokes. He wanted to end this man.

The Tax Collector wasn’t putting up a fight, which was surprising. For someone terrorizing the town, he seemed rather inactive. The Tax Collector merely smiled at Sanji, put a hand on Sanji’s shoe, and said, “Hear.”

Voices. Hundreds of them, overlapping and loud, slammed into Sanji’s brain. He cried out in surprise, then in pain. The voices didn’t make any sense, words on top of words on top of words, filling his head. It was as if an enormous crowd of people were screaming into his ears all at once, but it was on the inside. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block it out. It only seemed to make it louder.

The Tax Collector easily brushed Sanji’s foot aside and stepped away. Sanji could hear him, over the others, though his mouth didn’t move. You will hear them until you die. You will be unable to function, unable to survive. I win.

Sanji could barely stand it. The voices bombarding him with a cacophony of noise was painful. He tried to concentrate, tried to push the pain aside to do something, anything, before this bastard got away.

Sanji grit his teeth around his cigarette, nostrils flaring, hands still clamped over his ears. He focused on his legs, not the unending, unintelligible shouting going on in his head. He snap-kicked with all his might at the Tax Collector’s chin. Like the militia in the hall, the Tax Collector flew up in the air but his head smashed through the stone ceiling. He hung limply, like a portly chandelier. Blood trickled down from his neck onto his suit.

The voices didn’t stop. Sanji bent forward, squeezing his head between his hands. A dissonant litany reverberated in his skull. He might be able to handle it if it wasn’t so loud. It was causing his eyes to water. He had to find out if the Tax Collector was dead. If he wasn’t, maybe killing him would make this torture stop.

Sanji took several drags off the cigarette in his mouth, trying to pull strength from the nicotine. He forced himself to straighten up. He looked up at the Tax Collector through blurry eyes. Voices. So many voices. Layer after layer after layer. Sanji shook his head hard, reached for the Tax Collector’s legs, and yanked him free from the ceiling. He crashed onto the floor in a bulbous heap.

The top of the man’s head had been flattened. What looked like brain matter was splattered on his face. Sanji took a knee and felt for a pulse. He didn’t find one. The Tax Collector was dead. Still, the voices remained.

The words didn’t make any sense, running together, around, over and on top of one another. Sanji tried again to block it out, trying to think of his own words to drown out the noise. Stupid fucking devil’s fruit users, fucking island, fucking tyrannical despots of fucktown. It didn’t work. It only added to the racket inside his head.

Sanji grabbed his hair and pulled hard. His fucking body modifications meant that it didn’t hurt. He couldn’t distract himself from the pain being caused inside his head with external pain. Bashing his head against the wall would only cause the wall to crater, not hurt him. He wanted the noise to stop, even for a second, so he could catch a breath.

The blaring voices were worse than an alarm going off in Sanji’s ears. It was deafening, except that it was all in his head. It felt like his brain was going to explode. He was in agony.

He had to get back to the ship. He had to find Chopper. There had to be something that could be done. He needed it to stop. He staggered for the door, body hunched, clutching and pulling on his hair. He puffed continuously on the cigarette, trying to find relief. It didn’t work. He banged into the door sill and against a table as he traversed the accounting room. He dragged himself up the steps all the while fighting the urge to scream.

Sanji forced his feet to take him down the hallway, stumbling into the walls on either side of him. Tears started streaming down his face. He felt like he was going to vomit. The roaring words in his head stabbed into his brain. He’d been in pain before, horrible pain, from beatings and injury. But this, this was like being electrocuted non-stop. He wanted to stick a knife in his head and dig the voices out.

Sanji tripped on a body littering the hallway and caught himself before he fell. He could see the other set of stairs that would take him to the main floor. He needed to find Chopper. He needed to find someone from the crew. He needed to get back to the ship and away from the noise of all these thoughts.

He staggered up the steps to the main floor, practically crawling now. He vomited halfway up, painting the stairs with his sick. The agonizing pain in his head was making him blind. He struggled to his feet. The entrance doors to the building should be down the hallway and then to the right. Outside. He needed to get outside. Maybe then he could breathe.

More fallen militia cluttered the hallway. Sanji kicked, tripped, and banged into all of them. He ponged between the hallway walls. He finally leaned his shoulder firmly against one to keep his balance. His hands were still clutching his head. His cigarette had long been smoked down to the butt. His teeth were clenched so hard together he was surprised they didn’t shatter.

Shadows up ahead, running back and forth. Sanji had made it to the main foyer. He could see the brighter light beyond the open main doors to the building. He was almost there. He could do this.

Sanji’s heel caught on a greatsword and he tumbled face first down the building’s outer steps. He landed in a heap in a pool of blood. A massive body was split in two in front of him. He vomited again. He tried to get to his feet but instead curled into a ball. He needed the voices to stop.

Is that Sanji? A voice sounded more clearly in Sanji’s head, almost like it was closer to the surface. “Cook?”

A shadow loomed over him. Sanji pried open his eyes. He could see Zoro crouch down beside him. “Oi, cook, what’s wrong? You hurt?” He’s covered with blood. Is that his blood or the dead guy’s? And is that puke? Better not chance it. “C’mon, let’s get you to Chopper.” If this is your blood, you’d better not die on me. I’ll kill you if you do.

Sanji felt Zoro’s hands slide beneath his curled body and everything went silent. Blessedly, blessedly silent. Then he heard Zoro, but only Zoro. Lift carefully. I don’t know how hurt he is. Sanji felt himself being lifted into Zoro’s arms, cradled, with his legs draped over one arm and Zoro’s other arm around his back. He leaned against Zoro’s broad chest, his head tucked beneath Zoro’s chin.

Sanji’s brain felt like it was leaking out of his ear. It throbbed with a massive migraine. He didn’t even care that Zoro was carrying him like a damsel in distress. Okay, find Chopper, Sanji heard Zoro's tone within his head. He was near the gate when we got here, but I don’t see him. We’re supposed to meet by the fountain outside the gate. I’ll go there. Straight line, focus on the gate. Don’t get lost like an idiot.

Sanji would be amused if his head didn’t hurt so badly. Zoro’s sense of direction was interesting to hear. Sanji focused on breathing and letting the silence wash over him. Zoro even stopped talking to himself. It was as if his head were empty of thoughts. An image appeared in Sanji’s mind of a calm ocean stretching as far as he could see. He let himself float on that ocean.

Zoro carried Sanji out of the gate and in the direction of the large fountain that graced the street in front of the entrance to the governor’s building. There he is. The thought drifted to Sanji on the ocean’s breeze.

“Ah! Sanji! Zoro!” Chopper exclaimed. Sanji heard Chopper with his ears, rather than in his head. “What happened? Sanji is covered in blood! Someone call a doctor!”

“You’re the doctor,” Usopp said. Sanji cut a glance sideways. He could see Usopp and Nami leaning against the fountain, looking scraped up but overall all right. Chopper was jumping up and down beside them. Franky was nearby, using a screwdriver on himself.

“Oh, right, eh-heh-heh.” Chopper patted the wide ledge that ran around the fountain. “Put him down here.”

Zoro carried Sanji over and gently set him down. Sanji put himself back under his own power, sitting upright instead of laying down. “I’m alright. It’s not my blood,” he said, as Zoro’s arms slid from beneath his knees and from around his back. “It’s only–”

The second Zoro stopped touching him, the voices slammed back into his skull at full volume and force.

Sanji cried out and clamped his hands over his eyes. He pressed the heels of his palms hard against his eyelids. The voices in his head blended with the voices of his nakama in his ears. Chopper, Usopp, Nami and Franky’s thoughts were louder than the others, but they still became a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know. He said it wasn’t his blood!” Checkhimover. Startwherehe’stouching.

“Zoro, did you see anything?” Hopethisisn’tasbadasitlooks. “Where’d you find him?”

“Bottom of the stairs outside the building.” DosomethingChopperhe’shurting.

Sanji felt Chopper’s hands on him. The voices dimmed slightly but didn’t fall away. Chopper’s nervous inner-babble became clearer. No obvious wounds on the head or face. Skin is paler than usual, clammy. Check his pulse. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen…

Chopper kept counting and Sanji tried to focus on it and not on the clamor underlying it. He could sense Chopper’s nervousness which was making him more tense. It could be affecting what he still heard. He wanted the quiet back desperately.

“Yes. Zoro, would you carry him again?” IcouldchangebutitwouldbebetterifIrunahead. “I’ll run ahead and check my books.”

“Usopp go with them.” Zorowillgetlostifhe’salone. “Franky and I will wait here for the others.”

Chopper stopped touching Sanji and the voices came roaring back loudly. Sanji hunched over himself, whimpering. It seemed worse than before, when the voices first started. He was going to vomit again. He wanted to rip his brain out of his skull and throw it away.

A new set of hands touched him, and the voices vanished. He was back on the ocean, floating peacefully. He uncurled as Zoro lifted him up again. “Let’s go,” Zoro said. Keep your eye on Usopp. Don’t let him out of your sight. Don’t even blink. I can’t let my stupidity cause Sanji pain.

Sanji heard Zoro’s resonant tone in his head and then it fell silent again. The migraine was making Sanji want to vomit again. He couldn’t see clearly. He felt Zoro start walking. He heard Usopp’s nervous babble with his regular ears.

“You sure you didn’t see him get hurt? He’s wearing a lot of blood. He liked that shirt, too. And that tie. Said the greens would be a better color for your hair. Also said you needed a haircut, unless you really wanted to resemble a moss ball. Did you know that moss balls are native to freshwater lakes? We had them on the Gecko Islands. They grew to be the size of entire islands! We had to battle the moss balls for land. My army and I fought fiercely to put an end to the moss ball uprising.”

Sanji half-listened, more focused on Zoro than on Usopp. Zoro’s thoughts were still silent. He wasn’t thinking about telling Usopp to be quiet. He wasn’t thinking about getting lost, or carrying Sanji, or worrying about Sanji’s state of being. It was as if Zoro’s mind was the ocean that Sanji was floating upon, still and calm. Perhaps the other voices had sunk deep beneath the surface and that’s why he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He wanted to speak up, tell Zoro and Usopp what was happening in his head, but he felt exhausted. The migraine throbbed behind his eyes and in the back of his head. It felt like spikes were being driven into his brain. He rested his cheek against Zoro’s chest and tried to regather his strength. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

The walk through the large town to the docks took a while. Sanji could tell where they were by the sounds around him. He heard the waves lapping at the docks and the rough talk from sailors coming and going from their ships. The gangplank bounced underfoot as Zoro carried Sanji onto the Thousand Sunny. Sanji heard Usopp and Zoro’s footsteps going up the stairs to the galley. Usopp opened the galley door and Zoro brought Sanji inside. The brightness from outside dimmed to sconce lighting.

Zoro carried Sanji through the connecting door into Chopper’s infirmary. Chopper was seated at his desk, paging through a book. The infirmary was small. A second door led to the back of the ship and the deck that wrapped around it. An adjustable bed was pushed against one wall with a place to hang IV bags above it. Chopper’s desk was across from the bed. Storage cabinets took up the remainder of the space.

“Put him on the bed,” Chopper instructed, hopping off his chair. Usopp had stayed behind in the galley, hovering near the doorway.

Zoro started to comply, but Sanji moved suddenly, clinging to Zoro’s shirt. “Don’t.”

“Don’t let go of me,” Sanji begged. He would find himself pathetic if he cared. “It’s only quiet when you’re holding me.”

Wonder what that means, Zoro thought before turning around and sitting down himself on the bed. He kept Sanji cradled on his lap, as if this was an everyday occurrence and didn’t bother him at all.

“What do you mean, Sanji?” Chopper asked. He was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He put it to his ears and placed the disk end against Sanji’s chest.

Zoro’s thoughts were quiet again, allowing Sanji to concentrate on himself. He fought through the migraine pain to speak. “The Tax Collector was a devil’s fruit user. I can now hear people’s thoughts. Everyone’s. All at once.”

He can hear my thoughts? Huh. Guess I shouldn’t think about having sex with him, then.

Sanji’s eyes widened as Zoro’s inner voice filtered through his head. He didn’t say anything, because what the fuck? Zoro wanted to have sex with him? Since when? Why?

“Can you hear my thoughts right now?” Chopper said, making a note in the journal on his desk.

“No. It stops when Zoro is holding me. I can feel that the voices are still there, but they are down deep where I can’t hear them.”

Ah. Okay. Zoro’s calm acceptance of what Sanji said felt strange. He and Zoro were friends, but the kind that argued and goaded each other on. And why were Zoro’s thoughts so sparse? Sanji’s mind was always running on about something.

Chopper made more notes in his journal. “Does he have to hold you, or only touch you?”

“I… don’t know.” Zoro had been holding Sanji both times the voices had stopped. “I guess we could check.”

“Zoro, go ahead and put Sanji down, but make sure you’re still touching him,” Chopper instructed.

“Sure.” Zoro stood and gently set Sanji down on the infirmary bed. He slid his arm from beneath Sanji’s knees first, then moved so he was out of the way. His other hand rested warmly on Sanji’s upper back. “This work?”

The voices were still mute, down in the deep ocean that filled Zoro’s mind. “Yeah.”

“Do you think it would stop if I touched you?” Chopper said, climbing onto the stool beside the bed.

“It didn’t seem to before,” Sanji told him. “We could try it again, though.”

Chopper put his hand on Sanji’s arm. If this works, I will have more information. Chopper’s thoughts came through clearly.

“I heard you,” Sanji said. “You thought that if it worked, you’d get more information.”

Chopper’s eyes widened. He can hear my thoughts! “You can hear my thoughts!”

“That’s what I told you.” Sanji smiled tiredly. The migraine was hammering against his skull. He wanted a painkiller and to sleep. “Apparently you have to be touching me for me to hear it.”

“Yeah.” Sanji glanced over at Zoro. He noticed for the first time that Zoro was battered and bloodstained. Zoro wore a formerly white shirt, a blood spattered haramaki, and his usual black trousers. His blood-soaked bandana was tied to his bicep. “Oi, you’re hurt. Why didn’t you say something, dumbass?”

“Not really. A little scuffed up,” Zoro dismissed. Nothing worth bothering over. “I’ll heal.”

Considering Chopper wasn’t panicking over Zoro’s appearance meant it was possible Chopper had seen Zoro before he’d found Sanji. Or Chopper was so inured to Zoro’s injuries they didn’t phase him anymore.

Zoro nodded and lifted his hand. The voices came swimming back to the surface, somewhat loud and chaotic. Overlying them all was a nervous hum. The voices weren’t deafening, like they were when no one was touching him, but they weren’t suppressed, either. Chopper’s inner mind was not calm like Zoro’s.

Sanji grabbed the front of his hair and pulled. “Doesn’t work. I can hear them all again.”

Zoro put his hand immediately back on Sanji. The voices cut out, except for Zoro and Chopper’s. That sucks, Zoro thought.

That’s terrible. There has to be something I can do. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose. “It feels like I can sense your inner mind. Yours is nervous, agitated. Zoro’s is calm. I also have a splitting migraine.”

“Oh! Let me get you something for that.” Something I can fix! Chopper took his hand off Sanji, hopped off the stool, and toddled over to the medicine cabinet.

“You can hear my thoughts when I’m touching you?” Zoro asked. Can you hear this?

Sanji wanted to shake his head at the emptiness within Zoro’s, but it hurt too much. Chopper came back with a painkiller mixed into a glass of water. “Thanks, Chopper,” Sanji said, taking it from him.

After a more thorough examination and questions from Chopper, the painkiller kicked in. Chopper must’ve mixed it with a sleeping agent, because Sanji felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Zoro didn’t think much the entire time, beyond wanting to wash up. Apparently, the dried blood was itchy.

Sanji didn’t know when he’d passed out, but when he awoke, there was no longer sunlight coming through the portal set in the infirmary door window. Chopper was gone, as was Usopp. Zoro was asleep on Chopper’s swivel chair, face on the bed, one arm stretched behind Sanji’s back. He still had blood matting his hair and his clothes were filthy. It looked as though he’d washed the blood from his face and arms, probably with Chopper’s help. A bandage was taped over his temple. He had minor cuts, scrapes and bruises littering his arms and along his jawline.

Sanji patted his pockets, searching for his smokes. He was still in the blood-stained shirt and tie. His cigarettes were in the breast pocket, his lighter in his trouser pocket. He lit one up, still lying on Zoro’s arm. He inhaled the nicotine and held his breath for a moment before blowing the smoke toward the ceiling.

What the hell was he going to do? The Tax Collector had said he’d hear the voices until he died. That couldn’t be true. There had to be a way to stop it. To suppress it. He couldn’t have Zoro touching him all the time. It was impossible. Zoro had to train, he had to cook. They were both needed, separately, to fight.

Sanji took another drag from his cigarette. At least his migraine had gone away. Thank goodness for Chopper’s painkillers. He wasn’t looking forward to getting another one, even though he supposed it was inevitable. He would just have to find a way to suffer through the pain and still be functional. Maybe he could get used to it. There were likely people everywhere who fought through pain daily to live their lives. He was strong. He could do it, too.

Resolved, Sanji sat up, coming off of Zoro’s arm. Once again, the voices smashed into his head like a wrecking ball. He pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, trying to fight them off. He grit his teeth. He could do this. He could fucking do this. If it just wasn’t so fucking loud.

“Hey.” Zoro had woken up. His hand came to rest on Sanji’s leg. The voices fell silent. “How’s your head?”

“Yeah.” Sitting up, Zoro yawned and scratched his chest. He glanced down at his blood-covered shirt. “I need a shower.”

“Me, too.” Sanji looked toward the open door into the galley. “I should probably throw some food together. Everyone must be hungry.”

“We already ate, while you were asleep,” Zoro told him. I could use another sandwich.

Sanji was amused to see Zoro’s eye widen. “Oh, shit. That’s right. You can hear my thoughts.” Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex.

“You don’t think a lot, if it’s any help.” Sanji swung his legs over the infirmary bed, careful not to jostle Zoro’s hand off. “Should’ve known your head would be empty.”

“Hey! My head’s not empty.” Zoro scowled. Is it empty? I never thought about it before. Hm.

Sanji snickered. “I can still hear you.” Fuck, it felt good to laugh about this.

“You figure out how I can do that, and I will. C’mon.” Sanji picked up Zoro’s hand as he stood. “Let me make those sandwiches and we can get cleaned up.”

I hope he makes the one with the little beets and the spicy mustard. “Sounds good.”

Sanji draped Zoro’s hand on his shoulder and led the way into the galley. The lights had been left on. The galley was divided in two parts by a bar in the center. The side closest to the infirmary held a large dining table with eight chairs bolted to the floor around it. A couch ran along the wall between the infirmary and the main deck wall. The light sconces hung above it. The kitchen half of the galley had everything a cook wanted to feed a crew, from a four-top burner stove to a double oven to a grand refrigerator. There were latching cabinets, drawers, and plenty of counter space. A wash sink sat in the prep counter that ran along the bar.

Sanji took his keys from his pocket, opened the lock on the refrigerator, and gathered the items he’d need for sandwiches, including the beets and the open container of spicy mustard.

“Usually you get mad if I bother you in the kitchen.” Zoro hovered behind Sanji, moving whenever he moved.

“I get mad at you when you bother me, period.” Sanji fetched the bread from the breadbox, a bread knife, and a regular knife. At the prep counter, he sliced the bread for three sandwiches, one for himself and two for Zoro. He knew Zoro probably didn’t eat enough if someone else was cooking.

Sanji glanced over his shoulder at Zoro. “Are you telling me you do it on purpose, shit swordsman?”

Zoro appeared embarrassed. “I’m going to stop thinking now.” Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. I’m thinking. Stop thinking. Ground yourself. Find my breath. In for three. Out for four. In for four. Out for five.

As Zoro’s thoughts filtered to him, Sanji could hear Zoro’s breaths following his mental counts. Sanji found himself breathing along as he made their sandwiches. Zoro’s mind went silent before he reached ten and the ocean returned.

Sanji plated their sandwiches and cleaned up before setting the plates on the bar countertop. He added a bottle of sake and two cups. He needed a drink and tea wasn’t going to cut it. He led the way to the other side and slid onto the bar-length seating. Zoro joined him. Sanji hooked his ankle behind Zoro’s boot. “You can let go now.”

Zoro hesitated. I don’t want to see him in pain again. No, trust him. He removed his hand.

Sanji shot him a quirk of a smile. “I’m fine, idiot. I’m still touching you.” He’d been concerned himself, but wasn’t about to let Zoro know that. Apparently, the touch worked through layers of clothing and footwear. It was important to know. “Eat your sandwiches.”

Zoro dug in. Mm, good. His thoughts fell silent after that. Sanji ate his own sandwich, pondering how this was going to work. There was only so much Zoro he could take before he wanted to kick the other man’s ass. At the moment, they were getting along, but Sanji knew it wouldn’t last. Zoro was too dumb not to say something stupid.

And why were Zoro’s thoughts so silent? Sanji’s mind never stopped moving. From the moment he woke up until he fell asleep again, he was thinking. Thinking about the meals he was going to make, thinking about snacks, thinking about supplies, thinking about cleaning, thinking about his appearance, thinking about cigarettes, thinking about sex. When he was working in the kitchen, he thought about unhappy topics, like the shit that went down with the Vinsmokes, what his genetic modifications meant in the long run, what his nakama were doing outside without him. His mind was in a constant whirlwind.

But Zoro was empty. No, not empty. Quiet, still. The ocean metaphor fit best, when the sky was blue, the wind was sparse, and the seas were tranquil. “How do you get your thoughts to stop?” Sanji asked him, wanting to know. Maybe it could be a way to stop the voices, or at least make them bearable.

“Hm.” Zoro’s thoughts drifted to him. How do I get my thoughts to stop? They just stop. Unless I’m thinking about something too much. Then I meditate. “Meditation.”

That made sense. Sanji ate more of his sandwich and washed it down with sake. “You seem to be taking this entire situation rather casually.”

Zoro seemed to have forgotten, again, that Sanji could hear his thoughts. Sanji didn’t bring it up. He’d gain ammunition for his unending game of one upmanship with Zoro and also insight into the man whose life seemed to be little more than training, eating, fighting, and naps. “The touching thing doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” I’d touch you all the time, if I could. “If it helps, I’m good with it.” I hate it when you’re hurt.

Sanji felt like two different people were talking to him. Zoro’s spoken words were the normal Zoro, straightforward, seemingly unemotional. Zoro’s inner thoughts were still straightforward, but they held weight to them. Sanji hated when Zoro was hurt, too. He hated when any of his nakama were hurt. But what was with wanting to touch him all the time? That was weird.

My ass itches. The thought nearly made Sanji choke on his last bite of sandwich. “I need a shower,” Zoro said aloud.

eaten both sandwiches in the same amount of time it took Sanji to eat one. Pig. “I’m going to wash our plates and cups first, then we’ll go.”

Zoro grunted at him but didn’t think anything about it. Sanji finished his sake, picked up both their plates and the cups, and unthinkingly unhooked their feet in order to swing his legs over the bar-length seating. Voices smashed into his brain and he nearly dropped the things in his hands.

Cantsleepmindwontstoprunningcirclesthoughtscollidingcrashingintoeachotherlikewavesonastormyseadidilockthedoordidisaysomethingweirdtodaywhydididothatwhatifineverfigurethingsouttimeisslippingslippingslippingtoofasttooslowmemoriesharderharderflashinglikeflickeringlightsthatonemomentinwhyamithinkingaboutthatnowheartbeattooloudbreathtooshallowneedtofocusbutonwhateverythingnothingeverythingatoncetheworldspinsbutimjustlyingherestuckinmyownheadwilliteverquiethardermore…

He stumbled forward, and Zoro was there, catching him by the waist. The voices disappeared back beneath the sea and only Zoro’s worried one came through. I forgot. I shouldn’t have forgotten. Stupid. You can be so stupid. Sanji needs me to keep focus. “You okay?” What kind of stupid question is that? Of course he’s not okay. You stopped touching him, you dumbfuck. Maybe your head is empty of thoughts because you’re fucking stupid.

Sanji felt like he was intruding. He shouldn’t be hearing this, hearing Zoro berating himself. “I’m good now,” Sanji said, wanting to put distance between them, knowing he couldn’t. His head ached again. “I’m the idiot who didn’t think first.”

No, it’s my fault. I need to be more vigilant. “Stupid cook.” Stupid Zoro. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sanji bit his tongue. He wanted to tell Zoro to stop admonishing himself, but that would probably make it worse. Zoro didn’t need to remember that Sanji could hear what should be his private thoughts. Not right now.

Closing his eyes, Sanji took a breath and tried to will the headache away. It didn’t work, of course. “Put your hand on my shoulder.” He decided to try and ignore the whole thing.

Zoro’s right hand shifted from Sanji’s waist to his shoulder. Only then did he remove the other hand from Sanji’s hip. Sanji led them back around the bar into the kitchen. He made quick work of the dishes, stowing them away, before lighting a cigarette. Zoro berated himself for a little longer then his thoughts fell silent again.

“We’ll grab a change of clothes and go clean up,” Sanji said.

“Okay.”

Sanji shut off the lights as they left the galley. Outside, the sky was dark and studded with stars. Lights from the town could be seen from the main deck. Sanji had heard all those people still awake. They crossed the deck lawn and entered the men’s quarters. Snores and wheezes greeted them from their sleeping crewmates. All but two bunks were filled.

The men’s quarters held four double bunks hanging from chains from the ceiling. Lockers ran along the back wall to store their belongings. A sunken sofa and table took off half the room. A place for them to gather on rainy days or when they wanted solitude. A sink with a mirror above it stood near the main door. The toilets were located outside beneath the stairs leading up to the women’s quarters.

Sanji walked quietly over to their lockers. Zoro’s was two away from his own. He took Zoro’s hand from his shoulder and held it, allowing them both to open their lockers without being separated. Sanji debated on grabbing his pajamas, but he figured he might as well take what he’d be wearing tomorrow – or later, since it was already past midnight. He likely wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight.

Sanji glanced over at his sleeping nakama. He wondered if he could hear their dreams. He wondered if he could hear anything, himself, while he was asleep. Would the voices intrude? Wake him up if Zoro wasn’t touching him? That was something he needed to find out, but not right now.

The two of them left the men’s quarters and made their way to the bathroom above the library. Sanji climbed the ladders first, with Zoro sliding his hand down Sanji’s back and leg until he reached the ankle before starting to climb one-handed behind Sanji. Once in the bathroom, they set their clean clothes in a cubby. Sanji toed off his shoes. He kept his hand resting on Zoro’s back, while Zoro pulled off his boots.

The bathroom on the Thousand Sunny was a circular room divided by a wall. One side, where the ladder was located, had cubbies for their clothing, towels, cleaning supplies, and a water closet with a sink beside it. Beyond the wall, a large onsen-style tub took up most of the room. A bench ran along one wall with a shower at the end of it. A bubble pattern tiled the floor. A window was set above the tub, which could be opened to let in their fresh sea air.

Sanji and Zoro both looked at the water closet at the same time. Sanji hadn’t gone since before the battle. Zoro was thinking the same. They looked at each other. “I’ll handle it,” Sanji told him.

“No, I can hold it.” I really gotta go. “Maybe you can stick your foot out or something.”

Sanji made a disgusted sound. “I’m not going to the toilet with the door open. And my legs aren’t that long.”

They seem that long. “I’ll stick my leg in then and we can touch feet.”

“Did you not hear me, idiot? I said I wasn’t going to go with the door open.” Sanji pushed Zoro toward the water closet. “You go first. I’ll be fine.”

You won’t be fine. “You sure?” You’re going to hurt.

“Yes. It’s not like you’re going to shit for an hour.” Sanji’s eyes narrowed. “You’d better not shit for an hour.”

“I’m not going to shit for an hour!” Zoro halted his steps on the threshold of the water closet. I hate this.

Sanji hated it, too. “Just go, dumbass. I’ll survive.”

Zoro looked back at him. “I’ll be quick.”

Sanji nodded and then purposefully turned his back to Zoro, taking his hand away. He squeezed his eyelids shut as the voices came roaring back, piercing his brain with a cacophony of unintelligible, overlapping thoughts. He heard the water closet door close and he sank into a crouch. He pressed his forehead hard against his knee and clamped his fingers against the back of his head.

Therocksofmyskullheartbeattooloudbreathingshallowtickticktickclockissoloudwhywon’tthebabystopcryingisthatthecatI’mhungrythisshiftisdraggingforeverfuckmefuckmefuckmedon’tforgettoaddbreadtothelistdidIremembertosetthealarmshitIsmellsmokemaybeifItworalootwoarlooIneedtopeewhatnow…

Shit faster, shit faster, shit faster , Sanji could hear Zoro’s thoughts, louder and clearer than the jumble of noise. Proximity must be a factor. Sanji might find Zoro’s thoughts funny if he wasn’t in excruciating pain.

Outsideprobablynothingbutwhatifitsnotshouldichecknahbutwhatifiwakeupanditsgonewhatsgoneidontknowwhycantirememberelephantshavekneesrightwhydomyfingertipsfeelweirddididrinkwatertodaywhatarewordswhodoesthevoiceinmyheadbelongtoifitsmebutimnotthinkingitdogsknowwhattimeitiswithout…

Sanji forced himself to breathe. He tried counting like Zoro had counted, taking longer and slower breaths. The headache from the galley had developed into another migraine. It felt like someone was shoving an ice pick into his eyeballs, his temples, and the back of his head. He was going to vomit.

He heard the door open behind him. “Shit.”

Sanji could tell Zoro was about to reach for him. “Wash your hands, you dumb fuck,” he ground out.

Right. Hands. Fuck. Stupid. Sanji heard the sink water and swallowed the bile in his throat. It would be over in a few seconds. Then he’d get to experience it all again while using the toilet. Fan-fucking-tastic. Maybe he would let Zoro’s foot touch his.

The relief was palpable when Zoro put both his hands on Sanji’s hunched shoulders. Sanji still wanted to vomit and his brain felt fried. He barely noticed that Zoro’s hands were damp. Sanji slowly, carefully rose from his crouch. He wobbled slightly. He pressed his fingertips hard against his eyes and gathered all his willpower. “My turn.”

“You can do this.” Zoro sounded so certain. Even his thoughts matched. You’re strong. This won’t defeat you.

It helped. Sanji took a deep breath and strode away from Zoro into the water closet. He kicked the door shut with his heel behind him. The thunderous voices caused him to vomit right into the toilet. But he refused to be defeated this way. He fumbled with his belt buckle and trouser fastening, leaning heavily against the side wall. He couldn’t see, the pain was so great.

I’m right here. You can do this.

Sanji didn’t know if Zoro was thinking the words on purpose, trying to help, or if they were his own thoughts. But they did help. Sanji managed to get himself onto the toilet and then folded over his lap and cried.

It felt like the worst few minutes of his life, but then he was done and pulling up his trousers, flushing the toilet, and opening the door. He practically collapsed into Zoro’s arms. The silence washed over him and with it the humiliation. He could barely hold himself together to use the fucking toilet.

Zoro guided him over to the sink and turned the water on for him. He shifted Sanji around so Sanji was leaning back against his chest. His arms were secure around Sanji’s waist. “Wash your hands, you dumb fuck,” he murmured, using Sanji’s words, trying to get a rise out of him.

The cold water helped. Sanji washed his hands and then splashed the cold water on his face. He rinsed his mouth out, as well. He was going to have to brush his teeth. His toothbrush was in the men’s quarters, though. “This sucks.”

“I know.” I’d take your pain if I could. “Should we go back down and get Chopper?”

“No. Shower.” Sanji wanted to feel clean.

Zoro led him into the bathroom, an arm curved around his waist. He kept a hand on Sanji’s neck as Sanji dragged his blood-stained shirt off. He had no idea what happened to his tie. Chopper must’ve removed it while he slept. His brain hammered against his skull and the light hurt his eyes. He didn’t even care that Zoro was with him as he shoved his trousers and boxers down, letting them fall to his feet. He stepped out of them. He still had on his socks. The thought of bending over to remove them made him want to vomit again.

“Here. Sit.” Zoro nudged him toward the bench beneath the shower head with the hand on his neck. The wooden bench felt cool under Sanji’s bare ass. Zoro never stopped touching him, placing his other hand on him before removing the first, peeling off his socks. Sanji leaned back against the curved wall, eyes closed. Sitting down didn’t make the migraine any less painful.

He heard Zoro shifting around, heard his thoughts. Maybe my leg will work. Zoro’s leg pressed against his calf before he removed his hand. He seemed to be holding his breath. Did it work? Looks like it worked.

As glad as Sanji was to only be hearing Zoro, he wished Zoro’s thoughts would shut up. He wanted silence.

Zoro kept moving around. His hand returned to Sanji’s knee. Sanji heard the clack of katana sheaths being set on the bench, then the rustle of clothing. Was Zoro getting naked? Sanji cracked open an eye and, sure enough, all of Zoro was on display. He had a lot more injuries than he’d let on. There was bruising, abrasions, and gashes that had crusted over with bloody scabs. The fight with the Lieutenant Governor must’ve been hard. “Stupid marimo,” he murmured.

“Huh?” Zoro glanced at him, as he reached for the faucet to turn on the shower.

“Nothing.” Sanji knew Zoro didn’t care about his injuries, that they were only an inconvenience. If he didn’t want Chopper to doctor him up, that was his choice.

Zoro turned on the water. It was cold at first but warmed up quickly. He took the sprayer from its hook and used it on both of them. Zoro’s leg was up against Sanji’s again. Sanji sat and let it happen. He was afraid if he moved he’d vomit again.

The water turned off. He watched through barely open eyes as Zoro lathered up a rag before offering it to Sanji. “Here. It’s soapy.”

Sanji took it from him and began to slowly rub it over his body. Zoro lathered up another rag and began washing himself. Ow. Stupid injuries. Stupid for letting yourself get hurt. Gotta train more.

Sanji closed his eyes again. The stabbing pain in his head would not subside. He used the soapy wash rag on as much of himself as he could reach without moving much, bringing his legs up to him, making sure he was still touching Zoro. He’d have to sit up to get his back and lift up to get his backside. He forced himself to do it, quashing the nausea. How was he going to live if he felt like this all the time, every day?

Rinse myself first, then rinse Sanji, Zoro thought. Not exactly how I pictured us being naked together would go.

Sanji cracked open his eyes again to stare bewilderingly at Zoro. He’d thought about them being naked together? Sanji remembered Zoro’s comment earlier in the day – had it been less than a day since this happened? It seemed like this agony had gone on forever. Zoro had been thinking about having sex with him. It was… bizarre.

“You done washing, cook?” Zoro asked him.

“Yeah.” Sanji let the rag fall onto the bench beside him and closed his eyes again. He’d worry about his hair another day.

Zoro turned the shower back on and Sanji closed his eyes again. Zoro wanted to have sex with him. Sanji had never thought about it, himself. He supposed Zoro was attractive in a brutish type of way. Sanji’s experience with men was limited to rushed blowjobs in the Baratie’s restroom with the customers who’d wanted more than dinner. He wasn’t against it. He preferred women overall.

Sanji tried to imagine him and Zoro together that way. Him on his knees, sucking Zoro’s cock. If his head didn’t hurt so badly, his body might be interested. It was an appealing image. He thought about what it might be like to get fucked. Zoro’s body over his, his legs wrapped around Zoro’s waist like the sex workers did to Sanji. It was more difficult to picture. He didn’t have any experience to go by. He wasn’t disinterested, though.

Zoro rinsed off Sanji, his thoughts having gone quiet again. Sanji decided to table the idea of sex with Zoro until a time he didn’t feel like shit. The water turned off.

Shit. The towels are in the other room. Dumbass. Should’ve thought of that.

Sanji helped Zoro out by pushing to his feet. His stomach flipped nauseously. He clamped his hand on Zoro’s shoulder tightly. Moving had been a mistake. He hoped he didn’t vomit on their clean bodies.

Zoro slid his arm around Sanji’s damp waist. “C’mon. I got you.” He looks like shit. Gonna wake up Chopper.

Together, they left the bathroom for the outer room. Sanji leaned heavily against the cubbies while Zoro dried himself off, his bare foot overlapping Sanji’s. He pulled on his clothes before helping Sanji dry and dress. Sanji felt like a weak, helpless mess. It disgusted him.

They went down the ladders opposite how they came up, with Zoro going first, keeping his hand on Sanji. He had his katanas at his side. Sanji hadn’t even seen him pick them up. He wanted a painkiller and a cigarette. He’d left his smokes in the cubby. Shit.

Zoro kept a firm arm around Sanji’s waist as they returned to the men’s quarters. They went over to Chopper’s bunk and Zoro shook his shoulder. “Chopper, we need you.”

We. For some reason, the word made Sanji feel warm inside.

Chopper awoke, already a bundle of nerves. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Sanji needs more painkiller.” Sanji’s name on Zoro's lips sounded foreign. Zoro always called him cook, or idiot, or target brow. But in his thoughts, he called Sanji by his name. It was good to know Zoro actually knew it. “We’re gonna stay here on the couch.”

“Okay. I’ll go get some.” Chopper hopped out of bed and scurried toward the door.

Zoro started for the sunken sofa, but Sanji murmured, “Cigarettes.”

“In your locker?” Zoro headed that way before Sanji replied. He kept Sanji tucked against him as he opened Sanji’s locker. They didn’t bother locking them. They trusted one another on the crew.

“Top shelf.” Sanji had a carton stored there. He’d have to buy more soon. It had been on his list of personal items to get, bought with his own money, when they docked. He hadn’t had the time to shop. “There are lighters up there, too.”

Zoro found both, shut the locker, and led him over to the sunken sofa. He helped Sanji to sit first before taking the seat beside him. Zoro’s leg and hip were pressed against Sanji’s. He draped his arm around Sanji’s shoulder, as if it were a normal thing. Sanji would have to analyze it another time, when his head wasn’t going to explode.

Zoro’s thoughts were blessedly quiet. The ocean stretched before Sanji with tranquility. Chopper returned and passed him a glass. He drank it quickly. It likely had another sleeping agent in it, as well.

“Anything else I can do?” Chopper fretted.

Zoro shook his head. “I got him. You can go back to sleep.”

Sanji pillowed his head on his arms on the table in front of him. He heard Chopper go back to bed. He really should brush his teeth. His mouth still tasted like vomit. The thought of moving again made him want to cry. He’d do it in the morning. Right now, he just wanted the painkiller to work and go to sleep.

Maybe he wouldn’t wake up again and the nightmare would end.

Sanji woke to find himself pressed into the back of the sofa, stretched out fully. Zoro was curled around him from behind. The sofa seats weren’t wide. He was surprised they both fit.

Feels like he’s awake. “You awake?” Zoro asked softly.

“Yeah.” Sanji’s head felt infinitely better. He ignored the way being held like this stirred his interest. He remembered he’d smoked two cigarettes before the sleeping agent had kicked in, floating on the peaceful ocean in Zoro’s mind. Zoro really didn’t think a lot. It must be nice to be at that much peace with himself.

The men’s quarters were quiet. He could see the sunlight streaming through the portholes. “What time is it?”

“Hn. Mid-morning sometime.”

“Shit, I missed fixing breakfast.”

Zoro held him firmly when he tried to sit up. “They got it.”

Sanji struggled but Zoro held fast. “Let go, shithead.”

“Where are you running off to? I said they got it.” Dumbass cook.

“What about the mid-morning snack? And then I got to start on lunch.” Sanji hated that he’d not done his job twice now. He was the ship’s cook. He needed to cook.

Damn. I was hoping to hold him longer. Zoro sighed and sat up. “Fine. We’ll brush our teeth, hit the head, and then go to the galley. And don’t argue with me this time about the door being open. I’ll stick my foot in and plug my ears.”

Sanji was definitely not going to argue. Besides, he only needed to piss. “Let’s go.”

They made it to the galley with minimal fuss. It helped that they were already dressed. Sanji had snagged his cigarettes and he lit one up. He was surprised when he hadn’t seen anyone on deck. “Where is everyone?”

“In town, helping with clean up,” Zoro told him. His hand rested on Sanji’s lower back. “Chopper left painkiller if you need it again. I don’t plan on taking my hand off you, though.” You’re not going to suffer if I can help it.

Sanji didn’t know if that was directed at him or a general thought. Probably the latter. “I guess I don’t need to make snacks, then. But I can start on lunch. I’ll make something that can be saved in case they don’t come back until later. Or we can eat it for dinner.”

“You need to eat, too,” Zoro said. I could use more breakfast. “I had an apple earlier. You haven’t had anything.”

Sanji blew out an annoyed breath. “Is that all you had?” Why did Zoro find it so hard to ask for food? It was Sanji’s job to feed him.

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. I can wait til lunch.”

“You’re not going to wait for lunch, dumbass.” Sanji began moving around the kitchen. Zoro latched onto his beltline. Zoro’s fingers were curled over the top of his trousers. “When you’re hungry, tell me. I don’t want anyone to go hungry on this crew. I don’t want anyone to go hungry anywhere.”

I am master over my stomach. It does not master me.

Sanji rolled his eyes. Zoro was such an idiot.

Sanji whipped together bacon and eggs for them both, adding chilies and peppers to spice it up. They sat at the bar again and this time Sanji remembered not to get up without keeping a hand on Zoro.

Zoro kept his hand on Sanji’s beltline as Sanji cleaned up and started lunch. His thoughts were empty. Sanji could feel him watching everything Sanji did, but he didn’t think about it. Must be nice to be so zen.

Sanji made fresh cobb salad and ceviche, both which were to be served cold. He tucked them into the refrigerator and made a quick scan of their stock. If the crew came back for lunch, he’d have to come up with dinner. Something easy. They had pork and leftover hamburger buns. He could make pork fritters and hush puppies. They had potatoes and he could add fries, since he’d be deep frying. He could make chocolate and vanilla pudding for dessert. He should do that now.

With Zoro moving with him, Sanji took out what he needed to whip up pudding so it would have time to set in the refrigerator. They could spray some whipped cream on it. Once it was done and chilling, Sanji felt much better. He cleaned up, humming under his breath. If it weren’t for the hand curled in the waistband of his trousers, he’d think this was any other day.

“C’mon, marimo. I want to grab a smoke.” Sanji led the way through Chopper’s infirmary to the back deck of the Sunny. He didn’t have an issue with smoking in the kitchen, but he wanted fresh air.

White clouds drifted in across the sky overhead. A warm breeze wafted across the ocean. Sanji lit a cigarette and leaned his elbows on the aft rail. He could see the governor’s building on the rise above the town. Zoro settled beside him, hand remaining where it had been, his thoughts still silent.

“Is your brain always this quiet?” Sanji asked. He knew he’d mentioned it before, but this was quite a long time to go without thinking anything.

Zoro shrugged. “I guess. I don’t really think about thinking.”

“What do you think about? When you think, that is.”

You. “Training counts. Grounding myself. Sometimes I’ll think about a fight after it’s done, figure out how I can do better.”

Sanji had heard that you. He cut a glance at Zoro. Zoro was peering over the edge of the ship, watching the water lap against the hull. A few fish were near the surface, nibbling on tiny flies that floated on the water. “Are you interested in me?”

Zoro jerked his head up. “What? No.” Why did he ask that? Can he tell?

Sanji’s mouth twitched. “Zoro, I can still hear your thoughts.”

“Fuck.” Fuck. I forgot again. Stupid.

Sanji realized that Zoro called himself stupid in his head a lot. He made fun of Zoro for his lack of intelligence all the time. He hadn’t known Zoro actually felt like he really was dumb. “You’re not stupid. I should’ve reminded you.”

Yes, I am. “Whatever.”

Sanji took another drag on his cigarette and let it drop. He wanted to talk about sex, not get into a fight. He decided to simply come out and say it. “I’d be interested.” It wasn’t a lie, or even a half truth. Thinking about sucking Zoro’s cock had told him that much.

Zoro’s fingers curled tighter in his waistband. “What?” I couldn’t have heard right.

“I said I’d be interested,” Sanji repeated.

Really? The thought sounded small and skittish, if thoughts had a sound at all. It was taking place in Sanji’s head. Maybe he was adding his own emphasis.

Zoro was staring at him, not saying anything out loud. Sanji gave him a half-smile. “Yes, really, marimo.”

The biggest, stupidest grin broke out over Zoro’s face. “I never thought… I mean, I thought, but never hoped… I mean, I did hope, but didn’t expect you’d ever be interested in me.” I can’t believe it. Maybe I’m dreaming. I’m going to wake up with a boner smushed into Sanji’s ass on that couch. He’s gonna get pissed.

Sanji flicked his cigarette butt over the rail, leaned over, and kissed him.

He’s kissing me!

A laugh spilled over Sanji’s lips and onto Zoro’s. He drew back. Zoro looked shocked, which made Sanji laugh more.

Is he laughing at me? Did I do something wrong? Maybe I suck at kissing. I must suck at kissing. Why has no one told me that I suck at kissing?

Their mouths had only been pressed together for a moment. Nothing to judge anything by. Sanji turned to face Zoro and pushed Zoro’s shoulder until he was fully facing Sanji. Sanji slid his hand into the back of Zoro’s hair. “Stop thinking so much and kiss me again.”

Zoro licked his lips and looked at Sanji’s lips. His other hand came to rest on Sanji’s waist. Kiss him. Okay. I can do that. And I can do better. He closed the distance between them and placed his lips against Sanji’s, unmoving at first, and he exhaled heavily as if the touch excited him. I’m kissing him! His eyelid fluttered shut and he angled his head to properly kiss him.

Sanji fell into the kiss greedily. Zoro did know how to do it. He briefly wondered how much practice Zoro had in the past. Sanji mostly kissed sex workers and the occasional man back when he was still on the Baratie. Zoro’s thoughts had turned off again. Perhaps he was simply relishing in the feel like Sanji was doing. The kiss deepened, their mouths moving hungrily against one anothers, tongues tangling. Sanji pressed himself fully against Zoro. The hand around his waist came up to splay between his shoulder blades. Sanji could feel himself getting hard. Bringing up Zoro’s interest in him had been a good idea.

Sanji drew back first, hungry for something else. He slid down to his knees and worked Zoro’s trousers open. He made sure his knee was against Zoro’s foot, but he was about to have a different kind of contact. Zoro stared at him with wide eyes and a reddened face. Is he going to blow me? Holy shit. He’s going to blow me.

Sanji’s mouth quirked as he freed Zoro’s hardening length. He leaned in and inhaled the musky scent of male arousal. He hadn’t realized he’d missed it until now. He kissed the tip of Zoro’s cock, then ran his tongue over it. Zoro moaned, his hands coming to rest on Sanji’s head. Fuck, that felt good.

Sanji needed no other encouragement. He took Zoro into his mouth, using his tongue to dampen the length. He circled his hand around the base. Out in the open on the back deck, he began sucking Zoro off. He watched from beneath his lashes as Zoro watched him. His head bobbed back, kissing his fist, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. He made sure to swirl his tongue around the head every time he drew up Zoro’s shaft. He knew how to give excellent head. He’d had a reputation for it. He also had the added bonus of Zoro’s thoughts. He looks so hot on his knees sucking my cock. Wish he’d stay like that forever.

Zoro’s thoughts trickled away as sensation undoubtedly took over. Sanji loosened his fist to take him down farther. Zoro began to rock his hips. It had been too long for Sanji to deep throat him. With practice, he could do it again. And he was planning on getting in a lot of practice. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed this. The feel of a man’s solid length in his mouth, the smell, the taste, the double feeling of having all the power and being powerless. He was looking forward to being able to tilt his head back, open his throat, and have Zoro cut off his breath in the best way. Memories of the customers who got their pleasure from him drifted through his thoughts. He’d had a good time both serving and servicing on the Baratie.

I’m going to come. Sanji heard it before Zoro said it outloud. “I’m going to come, cook.”

Sanji wanted to tell him to call him by name. He’d tell him afterward. He sped up his stroking hand and the bob of his head. He heard Zoro’s sharp intake of breath just before the pulse in his cock. Sanji swallowed as Zoro’s cum flooded his mouth. Salty and bitter. Just like he’d remembered.

He suckled on Zoro’s cock until he felt Zoro start to move away, then released him. He kissed the tip again before tucking Zoro back into his trousers. His own cock throbbed in his pants. He didn’t know if he wanted Zoro to do anything about it, though. He wanted to savor the taste of Zoro on his tongue and the good memories that it brought. He nuzzled against Zoro’s muscular thigh, resting his cheek against it, his nose resting on the softened bulge in Zoro’s trousers. Zoro’s fingers began carding through Sanji’s hair. “Don’t you want me to do you?”

“Not right now,” Sanji said. He felt like being aroused and wanting, a pleasant type of torture. It kept his mind off the fact that the real torture could come back at any second. That it would come back.

I’ve wanted this for so long, Zoro thought. His fingers felt nice. I wonder if he’d be mine.

Sanji grinned. Zoro had forgotten Sanji could hear him again. It was also nice to feel wanted like that. His last experience, with his aborted wedding, hadn’t been great. It had left Sanji feeling self-loathsome and disillusioned.

He brought his face closer and mouthed Zoro’s soft cock through his trousers. Sanji wanted to blow him again. Zoro’s breath stuttered. He’s going to blow me again. Sanji smiled against the hardening length.

Seabirds called overhead. Water lapped against the hull. The breeze ruffled Sanji’s hair. Sounds of people walking up and down the docks filtered up to them as Sanji sucked Zoro’s cock for the second time beneath the late morning sun. When Zoro came, Sanji let it paint his face. Zoro’s thoughts about it pleased Sanji to no end. He left Zoro’s cock out this time, nuzzling against it, inhaling the musk, allowing the cum to dry on his face. In a little bit, he was going to blow Zoro again.

Having Zoro’s cock in his mouth made for a pleasant way to spend the rest of the morning. Zoro had wanted Sanji to paint his face again, though he didn’t say it out loud, and Sanji obliged. It had dried now, leaving rough patches on his face if he rubbed at it. Zoro's thoughts on the matter had him not bothering to wash it off.

They wandered out to the main deck after Sanji grabbed lunch for them. They settled against the tree. They ate and chatted briefly about what the crew could still be doing in town. Zoro yawned and closed his eyes. Sanji used his leg as a pillow, smoking a cigarette. Zoro ran his fingers through Sanji’s hair until he fell asleep.

Sanji remained awake, smoking and letting his thoughts drift. He didn’t hear Zoro’s dreams. He lifted his head slightly, moving away from Zoro’s touch. The voices immediately slammed back into his mind. He dropped his head again before it started to hurt. No magical semen cure, then.

He wondered if any of his other crewmates would create the quiet he felt with Zoro’s mind. He already knew Chopper didn’t; the little doctor was too nervous all the time. Usopp was likely a no, as he had a lot of fear, even though he constantly fought to overcome it. The others were a possibility. Maybe he’d try at dinner, assuming they all returned by then. Zoro needed to be able to train, to be able to fight when the time came. Sanji refused to be the one who held him back.

The sun traversed the sky from one side of the ship to the other. Zoro woke up and Sanji blew him again just because he could. Zoro was starting to get a complex about the only one getting off, which amused Sanji. He’d found another way to torment Zoro.

They cleaned up lunch, tried with the idea that maybe if Zoro was touching one end of his katana and Sanji the other, it would count as contact. It didn’t. Sanji had his arms currently wrapped around Zoro’s calves as Zoro did an inordinate amount of sit-ups. The counting in his head lulled Sanji into a doze, his forehead resting on Zoro’s bent knee.

Zoro wanted another shower. Sanji blew him in there, too. A long one, because Zoro was very spent. Because of his modification, Sanji’s mouth and jaw didn’t get sore. Both a benefit and a sad realization. Sanji wouldn’t have minded the soreness.

Zoro tried to reciprocate and Sanji put him off again. His erection had come and gone and returned several times throughout the day. That type of pain he could feel, the good kind, and he wanted to hold onto it.

By the time they returned downstairs, the sun was beginning to set and the others had come home.

The boisterous Straw Hat crew gathered around the dining table. Sanji had set out dinner and everyone was digging in. Usually, Sanji would be roaming around, giving refills, taking away empty dishes or plates, but this time he sat perched on Zoro’s knee, eating dinner with them. No one commented on the seating arrangements.

Zoro sat at the head of the table, giving them more room. Brook was at the opposite end. The girls sat to Sanji’s right, along with Usopp. Luffy, Chopper, and Jinbe sat to Zoro’s left. Franky lounged on the sofa in the dining room. The crew was filling in Sanji and Zoro as to what they’d been doing all day.

“They’re going to hold temporary elections. No one who worked at the government building or militia person is allowed to run,” Nami explained.

“What about the money the Tax Collector collected?” Sanji asked.

“We gave it back!” Luffy said enthusiastically. “Then they gave a bunch to us!”

Nami sighed happily with Beli signs in her eyes. “We’re flush again.”

“I attempted to find out more information regarding the Tax Collector, Sanji-san,” Robin said. “I am afraid there was little to find. He ate the Koe Koe Fruit. You are already aware of what the power can do.”

“Painfully so,” Sanji said with a tight smile. “Thank you, Robin-chan, for trying.”

“Have you learned anything else about it today, Sanji?” Chopper asked him.

“A little. I need to have direct contact, but it can be through clothing or boots,” Sanji replied. He wasn’t going to tell them that wearing Zoro’s semen didn’t work. “I was going to try seeing if the rest of you might also suppress the voices enough. I thought I’d go from person to person and see what happened.”

“What?” Zoro spoke up. His mind had been silent during dinner so far. Sanji knew he’d been enjoying the food and letting the conversation wash over him. “That’s going to hurt.”

“It needs to be done, marimo,” Sanji said firmly. “I can’t be attached to you forever.”

Mine. The word was swift and disappeared so fast Sanji thought he’d imagined it. “I don’t care,” Zoro said.

“Yes, you do,” Sanji said, even though Zoro thought nothing of the sort. “How will you train or fight with me hanging onto you? You let yourself get beat up by the Lieutenant Governor. You suck still.”

I do suck. Damn it. Zoro scowled. “Kicked his ass, didn’t I?”

“Without me there,” Sanji said pointedly. Zoro’s expression creased into an unhappy frown and Sanji could hear that Zoro agreed. He looked at the others around the table. “So, who wants to go first? I already know Chopper won’t work.” He’d try Usopp anyway, even if he knew the results wouldn’t pan out.

Chopper jumped to his feet. “I’m going to mix up a painkiller before we start.”

“I want to go first!” Luffy volunteered. He stretched his arm across the table and wiggled his hand in front of Sanji’s face.

“It is a wise thing you are doing, Sanji,” Jinbe said.

“We can do it quickly, right, Sanji-kun?” Nami said. Sanji could hear the worry in her tone. It made him feel bad for causing it.

“Yes, sweet Nami-san. I will know almost immediately,” Sanji said.

Chopper returned with a glass of water mixed with a painkiller. He set it on the table by Sanji. “I want you to stop if it gets too much,” Chopper admonished. “Promise me!”

Sanji had no intention of doing so. He wanted to get this done all at once, not prolong it. “Of course,” he lied.

Stupid cook is lying. He’s going to do it all at once.

Sanji suppressed the twitch of his lips at Zoro’s accurate thoughts. They did know each other rather well. He looked at his nakama. “Just… ignore it if I yell in pain or anything.”

Chopper’s eyes watered. Usopp wailed, “We don’t want to see you in pain, Sanji!” Nami, Robin, Franky, and Jinbe all frowned. Brook smiled at him because he was a skeleton with no lips. Sanji could hear the yo-ho-ho as he thought it. Luffy continued to grin and wiggle his fingers in front of Sanji’s face. It was nice to know his Captain trusted him.

Sanji reached behind him to snag Zoro’s hand from where it had been resting on his back before he stood. He set Zoro’s hand on the table and gave him a quick look. Zoro seemed to get it immediately. Keep it there. He needs it in reach. Don’t grab for him. Let him do this. He’s strong.

Zoro’s confidence in Sanji helped, because he was feeling like this was a dumb idea even though he knew it had to be done. “Okay. Luffy first.” Sanji took Luffy’s hand, braced himself, and lifted his other hand off Zoro’s.

Sunshine. Blinding sunshine. That’s what Sanji felt from Luffy. There was a roar of voices that rose up and then seemed to melt in the sunshine. Sanji could still hear them but they were… puddles of sound. Something he could probably ignore. Sanji’s holding my hand. Woohoo! This is fun. We should hold hands more often!

Sanji grinned at Luffy. “We might. You work.”

This seemed to make everyone relax and want to take a turn. Sanji knew he wouldn’t get the same reaction from all the others. Luffy was like Zoro. Straightforward and seemingly brainless. But whereas Zoro came across as either angry or uncaring, Luffy was boisterous and over the top.

Sanji put his hand back onto Zoro before releasing Luffy. Luffy snapped his hand back to his side. Sanji paused before taking Robin’s proffered hand. There was a roil of emotion coming from Zoro, as if his calm seas were beginning to storm. It was unexpected, and different. Could he feel feelings as well as hear voices now? Or maybe it was his observation haki telling him something was up. He glanced at Zoro. Zoro was staring at his mostly empty dinner plate blankly. His thoughts were empty. Sanji would have to wait to ask him about it later.

“Robin-chan is so kind to volunteer to go next,” Sanji said, taking her hand. He didn’t swoon, though it was close. He still loved the ladies, even if he planned on blowing Zoro from now until eternity. Maybe he’d blow Zoro while fucking a sex worker at the same time. That would be heaven. Zoro might not go for it, though.

The sex thoughts kept him distracted long enough that he could take his hand from Zoro’s again. The voices roared up and then scattered amongst the books. Robin felt like a library. A vast library of information. Her thoughts were abuzz with gathering impressions of Sanji’s hand in hers, questioning how he felt, whether she might offer aid or harm. While the voices were quieter than when he wasn’t touching anyone, she wasn’t quiet. He gave her a weak smile, putting his hand on Zoro’s again. “Sorry, Robin-chan. Your mind is… busy.”

“It is all right, Sanji-san. We tried.”

The double dose of voices had started a headache behind his right eyeball. Nami leaned across Robin in her chair to offer Sanji her hand. “Try me.”

Sanji smiled at her and didn’t say anything. He took her hand and let go of Zoro. Pain slammed into his mind as the voices crashed over him. Her worried thoughts ran together on top of them. She felt like a thunderstorm. Sanji grabbed Zoro’s hand, closing his fingers around it tightly, as he let go of Nami. The voices disappeared but the pain remained. He brought his other hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Sorry, Nami-san.”

Shit, he’s hurting bad now. “You want to keep going?” Zoro asked very quietly, as if he wanted only Sanji to hear. Of course, they were in a quiet room with everyone watching Sanji, so they all heard him.

“I’m okay,” Sanji insisted. He wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to stop. He forced a smile to his lips and turned to Franky on the couch. “How about you, Franky?”

“Super!” Franky got up and came over to the table. “Maybe a cyborg will solve all your problems.” He thrust his hand out at Sanji.

Sanji took the large, modified hand with his own and released Zoro’s. Franky was loud. Almost as loud as the voices that crashed into his brain. It was as if there was a non-stop party inside his head. Sanji staggered back, dropping Franky’s hand, but failed to grab Zoro’s first. Everyone’s thoughts began overlapping in the room and merged with the voices bashing through his skull.

SmellweirdtogetherSanjikun!didiaddsaltyetwhoscreamedoutsideshouldicheckwhydomyshoesfeeltightwasntiThissaladneedsmoremeatwearingsockshowlonghasthiswaterbeensittinghereHelookslikehe’sgoingtovomitisitweirdtodrinkmilkwithpastaPoorSanjisanisthelightbuzzinglouderthanusualIknewthiswasabadideaWeshouldstop…

Zoro hauled Sanji onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Sanji’s middle. The silence washed over him in waves. I got you. I got you. We gotta breathe. Get him to breathe. “Breathe,” Zoro said. Inhale for three, exhale for four. Inhale for four, exhale for five…

Zoro began breathing with his inner mantra and Sanji found himself following suit. The pounding in his head made it difficult but the breathing helped calm them both down. Soon Sanji was back on the smooth ocean within Zoro’s mind. The earlier turmoil was gone.

“Sanji-kun, are you all right?” Nami asked with concern.

“I’m okay, Nami-san. Just give me a minute.” Sanji leaned against Zoro, drawing strength from him. He was going to need two painkillers before this was done. Maybe even three.

“I think we should stop,” Chopper began, but Sanji cut him off.

“No. I want to get this done.” Sanji forced his eyes open and straightened. He could hear Zoro’s reluctance to release him, but he did. He kept his hand over Zoro’s on the table and grimaced a smile. “Who’s next?”

Sanji got through the rest of the crew quickly. Usopp was a bust, as Sanji knew he would be. Too scared. Brook’s mind was somewhat quieter but active with lyrics. He also felt creepy, like being in a graveyard alone at night. Jinbe was the only other one who was nearly as quiet as Zoro, but his thoughts weren’t empty. They were serene, as if he was sitting in a field of flowers that happened to be located on the bottom of the ocean. There was a soft hum.

“Are you meditating?” Sanji asked, still holding Jinbe’s hand.

“Yes, I am. Perceptive of you,” Jinbe said. “I thought it might help.”

“It does.” Sanji sank back onto Zoro’s knee before releasing Jinbe’s hand. “Thank you, Jinbe.”

Jinbe inclined his head and returned to his seat. The migraine splitting Sanji’s skull was making his eyes blurry. He pressed a hand hard against his forehead. It looked like Zoro, Luffy, and Jinbe were his best options. The three strongest fighters on the crew, according to the newest bounties. Great. He’d have to tranquilize himself and stay on the Sunny while they were fighting. There was no other way that he could see it happening.

Sanji picked up the glass of painkiller and drank it down. He hoped Chopper spiked it hard with a sleeping agent. The medicine roiled in his full stomach. He’d better not puke on the table. He still needed to clean up from dinner. And there was dessert to serve.

“We’re going to lie down,” Zoro announced, lifting Sanji as he stood. He set Sanji on his feet, but he kept an arm around his waist.

“Dessert…,” Sanji began, but had to clamp a hand over his mouth. He was going to vomit, the sudden movement mixed with the migraine pain was so awful. He bolted, even though it caused the voices to smash into his skull again. He ran through Chopper’s open infirmary, out the back, and vomited over the rail of the ship. He felt tears in his eyes as he heaved up his dinner. The overlapping roar of the islander’s thoughts reverberated in his brain. He wanted to die.

Zoro was there, suddenly and finally, strong arms wrapping around him, tucking him into an embrace. They were the same height, but Sanji felt small in his hold. Vomit stained his chin and clogged his nose and he was probably getting it on Zoro’s clean shirt. Make this stop. I can’t see him in pain anymore. Zoro’s thoughts were few, but emotional. Sanji hadn’t realized how much Zoro cared about him. He’d thought it was only friendship and sex, but it was more.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll go to bed,” Zoro said quietly, his hand rubbing in small soothing circles at the base of Sanji’s neck.

“But dessert–”

“They got it.” It’s how they show they care about you. “C’mon. We’ll go around.”

Sanji was grateful for that reprieve. He didn’t want to walk back through the galley, stained with vomit and in excruciating pain. They’d seen enough of the mess that was now his life.

Zoro brought him down to the men’s quarters where they used the sink to wash up. Sanji brushed his teeth twice. He allowed Zoro to get him into his pajamas before Zoro stripped down to his trousers and joined him on the couch. He curled around Sanji again, settling him between the back of the couch and Zoro’s warm body. Sanji melted against him and took the comfort given. The spiking pain in his skull eventually gave way to blissful sleep.

It turned out, Sanji didn’t hear anything when he was asleep. For whatever reason, his brain had given him a reprieve. Sanji supposed if he wasn’t conscious of his own thoughts, he wouldn’t be conscious of other people’s. It bode well for his idea to drug himself when the others needed to fight. He only knew this because Zoro had managed to fall off the couch in his sleep. Sanji found him on the floor when he woke up to the roaring voices in his head. Sanji reached down to lay his hand on Zoro’s chest and the voices quelled before he could get a headache.

He heard the snores and wheezes of his nakama in the men’s quarters. It was probably close to the time Sanji normally woke up for the day. He didn’t know how long Zoro stayed awake before he’d succumbed to sleep. Zoro usually didn’t sleep a lot at night and instead caught naps during the day. His schedule was likely fucked up because of Sanji.

Fuck, had it only been two days since the Tax Collector had cursed him? Sanji wanted to scream. It felt like forever had passed. He wanted this to be over with. But it wasn’t going to end, was it? He was going to be stuck with the voices in his head until he died.

Sanji didn’t want to think about it anymore. He shook Zoro’s chest. “Zoro, wake up,” he whispered.

Zoro came alert quickly. Attack? Where’s my swords? He blinked the sleep from his eyes, looking up at Sanji. Why am I on the floor?

Sanji shot him a half-grin. “You fell off the couch, idiot.”

Oh. Zoro yawned and stretched and smacked his lips a few times. “What’re you doing up? It’s dark still.”

“I’ve slept enough.” Sanji traced a random pattern on Zoro’s bare chest. “Toilet. Then shower. Then bath.”

“M’kay.” Zoro sat up and clonked his head on the table. “Ow.” Fuck. Sanji snickered at him. Thankfully, Zoro hadn’t been loud enough to wake anyone else. Usopp and Luffy’s snores could drown out a full band.

Zoro climbed out from under the table, and Sanji sat up, keeping a hand on him. They stopped at the lockers for some clothes and Sanji’s smokes, grabbed their toothbrushes and the toothpaste, and made their way to the bathroom at the other end of the Sunny.

In the bathroom, they both used the water closet with their feet touching, washed their hands, and brushed their teeth. They stripped in the outer room, leaving their clothing in the cubbies. Sanji remembered to grab the towels. He also locked the bathroom door behind them.

Zoro’s katanas rested on the bench near the door. They showered quickly, washing away yesterday. Zoro’s still sleepy thoughts drifted to Sanji, mostly about training and food. The filtering system Franky had set up meant the onsen-style tub was always filled with hot, clean water. They drained the tub and scrubbed it weekly. Sanji led Zoro by the hand into the bath and sighed with pleasure as the heat soaked into him. He was glad his exoskeleton hadn’t ruined that.

Zoro settled beside Sanji on the seat that ran circled the tub with a content sigh. The sigh turned into a gasp when Sanji wrapped his hand around Zoro’s cock. “What’re you doing?” Fuck, I like that.

“Not thinking,” Sanji told him, stroking him into hardness. He didn’t want to think about being cursed, the pain it brought, being stuck with having to touch someone forever. He wanted to feel like a normal person again.

“Are you going to blow me again?” I wouldn’t mind it. His mouth is fantastic. I want to see my cum on his face again. Mark him as mine.

Sanji’s lips twitched. “Maybe.” He actually knew what he wanted and it wasn’t that, though it was tempting after hearing what Zoro was thinking.

His hand feels so good on me. Zoro moaned quietly, as Sanji stroked him. Zoro felt heavy and thick in his hand. Velvet wrapping steel. Sanji was looking forward to seeing what it felt like inside of him.

He wanted to crawl onto Zoro’s lap and sit down on that length, but he wasn’t sure how that would work. He didn’t have experience with this. But he wanted it, he wanted to feel Zoro filling him in the most base way. His own erection bobbed under the water, excited by the thought. He’d never came yesterday. He wondered if he’d come from being fucked.

“I want you to fuck me,” Sanji told Zoro.

“What?” Did I hear that right?

“Yeah, you heard right. I want you to fuck me,” Sanji repeated, deciding to climb onto Zoro’s lap. He pressed their erections together and began stroking them both. “Never done it before, so you’re going to have to lead.”

Zoro’s eye was wide. Holy shit. Sanji wants me to fuck him. Sanji hasn’t been fucked before. He will only be mine. Wait, he’s a virgin? But he gives great head. “You’re a virgin?”

Sanji found Zoro's thoughts amusing. He leaned in and brushed a kiss on Zoro’s lips. “No, idiot. I just haven’t fucked or been fucked by a guy before.”

“Oh.” I guess that was a stupid of me. “You’ve done girls?”

“Yes.” Sanji continued to jack them both slowly beneath the water. “Are you going to fuck me now or are we going to keep talking?”

Fuck now. Zoro brought his hands up to tangle in Sanji’s clean, wet hair and kissed him passionately. Make him mine.

Sanji smiled into the kiss and gave over to it. Zoro really knew how to kiss well. Their mouths fit together like this was what they were supposed to be doing with them, instead of arguing. Zoro’s tongue chased his, their breaths commingling, lips parting and meeting again and again. Lost in the sensation of kissing and being kissed, Sanji began to rock his hips against Zoro, rubbing their trapped erections between their bellies. He wanted this man so badly.

Zoro’s thoughts had disappeared into the kiss, but with Sanji’s movement they returned. If he keeps doing that, I’m going to come too quickly and I want to fuck him. Zoro broke the kiss, breathing heavily through his nose from arousal. His eye was dark with lust. I got to make this good. I’ve wanted him for so long. Don’t be your normal stupid self and fuck this up.

Sanji was starting to hate every time Zoro called himself stupid. He opened his mouth to say something, but Zoro suddenly picked him up and carried him from the tub. He grabbed onto Zoro’s shoulders.

Towel. Put it on the floor. How do I put it on the floor while holding him? I need more hands. Maybe if I did Asura no-sword style I could get it.

Sanji felt a laugh tickle his chest. “I’ll get the towel, marimo.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed. “How did you… oh, you can read my thoughts.” Forgot again. Stupid.

Sanji flicked Zoro under the chin. “Oi, no one is allowed to call you stupid except me, including yourself, got it?”

“Tch.” Zoro ignored him, aloud and in his thoughts, which wasn’t usual. He carried Sanji over to where the towels were hanging. “Grab one and toss it on the floor.”

“You could put me down.”

“No,” Zoro said stubbornly, his hands flexing under Sanji’s ass.

Sanji rolled his eyes, snagged a towel from the hook, twisted in Zoro’s hold, and flicked the towel like he used to set tablecloths. It landed on the tile floor in a perfect, fully spread rectangle.

That was amazing. Zoro gaped. “How did you do that?”

“Talent.” Sanji nipped at Zoro’s nose. “Fuck me already.”

Oh, right. Zoro went to his knees and laid Sanji on his back on the towel. The fluffy material felt soft beneath him, even though the floor was hard. Sanji put his feet on the towel, knees bent on either side of Zoro’s hips. Zoro leaned over Sanji, bent his head, and kissed Sanji again, long and deep, thoughts swirling around how good Sanji tasted. I could kiss him forever.

Sanji might be of the same opinion if he did not desperately want to be fucked. His erection ached, his desire was stoked, and he wanted Zoro to get on with it already. He wanted to feel something new, something different, something to take him away from the fucked-upness of his current life.

Zoro drew back to gaze at him. He’s so handsome.

Sanji felt butterflies in his stomach. It was ridiculous. He’d been called handsome before, usually by the sex workers, but still. Zoro had forgotten again that Sanji could read his thoughts, and the honesty in the moment made his face heat.

Zoro lowered his head and kissed Sanji on the neck before murmuring in his ear, “Let me know if you don’t like something and I’ll stop.”

The words sent a shiver of lust straight down Sanji’s spine. “Okay.”

Zoro placed another kiss on Sanji’s neck, and then began kissing downward. His thoughts centered on making this good for Sanji, which was stupidly sweet. He mouthed kisses on Sanji’s chest, stopping at Sanji’s nipples to lave them with his tongue, first one and then the other. Sanji exhaled sharply at the sensation. No one had done that to him before.

“Good?” Zoro asked, his breath hot against Sanji’s damp skin.

Sanji nodded, his head rubbing against the towel. “Yes. Do it again.”

Zoro obliged, sliding his tongue over Sanji’s hardening nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, as Sanji did with women, and Sanji’s hips bumped up into Zoro. This was what it felt like for a woman when he sucked at their tit? Fuck, it felt good. He moaned in his throat.

He liked that. Do it again.

Sanji moaned even louder as Zoro followed through on his thoughts. Zoro switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. Sanji’s erection throbbed with every suck and lick of Zoro’s tongue. He tried to push his hips against Zoro’s, tried to get friction, but Zoro moved away. He whined softly in his throat, causing Zoro to huff a hot laugh against his abdomen as he continued kissing downward.

Sanji thought that Zoro was going to blow him. That Zoro was going to wrap that wonderful mouth around Sanji’s aching cock and suck him into orgasm. But Zoro bypassed Sanji’s erection, laving his tongue down the crease in Sanji’s hip as he pushed both of Sanji’s knees back. Sanji opened his eyes into slits, peering down his body at Zoro. He could no longer reach Zoro, relying on Zoro’s hands and mouth to keep contact.

Hope he likes this, Zoro thought, and then his tongue was somewhere Sanji had never expected a tongue to ever be. Sanji’s head flew back, dragging against the towel, as he gasped loudly, “Fuck. ”

Is that good? It sounds good. Zoro swirled his tongue around Sanji’s hole and Sanji gurgled helplessly. Yeah, it’s good.

Sanji writhed beneath Zoro’s mouth and tongue, being held up and open by Zoro’s strong hands. He never would have thought someone’s tongue on his asshole would be pleasurable. He never thought of doing it himself to a woman. “Zoro,” he moaned, low and long, dragging Zoro’s name out.

Zoro was engrossed in what he was doing, his thoughts focused on making Sanji feel good. Sanji didn’t know if he could feel any better than he was, being licked and probed and fucked by Zoro’s tongue. He felt Zoro’s left hand shift, draping Sanji’s right leg over his shoulder. Then Sanji felt a finger pushing into his ass alongside Zoro’s tongue.

Sanji’s mind was gone, awash in a sea of pleasure as Zoro tongued and finger-fucked him. He felt another go in, stretching him open, all the while Zoro’s mouth tortured him in the best fucking way. His wanton moans echoed against the walls in the bathroom. Another finger, and Sanji dug his heel into the towel, the other into Zoro’s back, and he began fucking himself on Zoro’s digits. He ached for more.

Zoro twisted his hand, curled his fingers, and Sanji nearly shot through the roof. Electricity coursed through him. He felt like he was having an orgasm even though he could tell he wasn’t. Wave after wave of intense pleasure slid through him as Zoro did magic with his fingers. And then he was coming with a shout, shooting his load onto his belly without his cock being touched.

Gorgeous. Zoro removed his fingers, draped Sanji’s other knee over his shoulder, and moved over him. Sanji could feel something blunt against his asshole as his brain tried to return from white out. He realized what it was when Zoro breached him, his body opening up to accept Zoro’s thick cock.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t come, don’t come. He’s so fucking tight. Shit. Don’t come.

Zoro’s inner babble mixed with the feeling of Zoro pushing his erection deeper and deeper into Sanji. Sanji scrambled to grab onto Zoro anywhere. He felt stretched and filled in a way his imagination hadn’t prepared him for. He wondered if this was supposed to hurt, but all he felt was immense pleasure and the feeling of being claimed. “Zoro,” he choked out.

Fuck, Sanji. “Sanji,” Zoro breathed Sanji’s name like a prayer. He began to move, drawing his hips back and thrusting in again. Sanji made helpless sounds of want. His hands pawed at Zoro’s arms, his chest, his face. Zoro bent down, pushing Sanji’s legs farther back, and Sanji saw stars again. Whatever Zoro did was causing his cock to hit that spot that had sent Sanji previously spiraling into orgasm. Sanji cried out in passion, Zoro kissing sloppily around his open mouth. Zoro’s thoughts about Sanji’s tightness, his heat, and how good he felt added to Sanji’s pleasure.

Sanji clung to Zoro’s neck, Zoro’s pelvis steadily slapping against his ass, that spot being hit over and over again by Zoro’s cock inside of him. Sanji’s toes curled and his breath came in ragged gasps. The waves of radiating warmth coupled with a pressurized pleasure rolled through him. Then orgasm smashed into his groin and the rest of his body, and a beat later he was coming hard, splattering Zoro’s chest.

Zoro made a gibbering sound with both his mouth and in his thoughts, his thrusts losing rhythm, becoming quicker and more unsteady. And then his thoughts were gone. Sanji felt him pulsing deep within his ass as he rode his own climax down to languid bliss.

Zoro collapsed atop of Sanji, pinning him with his knees in his armpits. Sanji was flexible, the position didn’t bother him. He could drop his feet above his head and lie like that with ease. Sanji caught his breath first, pulse thrumming from his climaxes. The double release from both orgasms left him floating. Denying himself yesterday had been the best idea.

Zoro snuffled against his neck as he returned from his own bliss. I love him so much, Sanji heard in his mind. Sanji’s breath caught, his heart squeezed in his chest. It was the first time anyone had said those words to him, except Zoro hadn’t said them out loud. Sanji suddenly wanted to cry. This normal that he’d wanted has only served to make the situation he was in more real.

He squeezed his arms around Zoro’s neck, burying his face against Zoro’s shoulder. “You okay?” Zoro murmured. I’m probably squishing him. I hope I didn’t hurt him too much.

“M’fine, marimo,” Sanji told him, even though it was a lie. He was likely never going to be fine again.

Zoro brushed a kiss against Sanji’s neck and made to pull away but Sanji held on tightly. “Don’t.”

I guess he’s okay. Zoro settled his weight back onto Sanji and sighed into Sanji’s neck. I could nap like this. Stay inside him. Show him he’s mine.

Sanji squeezed his eyelids against the tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

Zoro did fall asleep, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts. He wished he could reach his cigarettes. He’d slid his legs down and around Zoro’s back, his flexibility giving him the option. Zoro was no longer inside him. He could feel Zoro’s limp cock resting against his backside. The stretch that he’d felt had gone almost immediately. If it wasn’t for the dampness of cum that had leaked a trail from his ass, it was as if Zoro was never inside of him. He supposed he had his genetic modifications to blame.

Sanji stared at the curved ceiling in the bathroom. Pre-dawn had lightened the window above the tub. He should start making breakfast. Drag Zoro along with him. Get back to his fucked-up life. Another day in a long string of crappy days that started with a wedding invitation and had yet to end.

He needed to figure this out beyond the right now. This wasn’t going to change. He’d been cursed by a devil’s fruit user. Either he had to get used to the pain or adapt to the fact that someone was going to be touching him all day and most of the night. Sleeping suppressed the voices, so that was one reprieve. No matter what, he was going to be an inconvenience at best, a burden to say the least.

Zoro rolled suddenly, flopping onto his back beside Sanji. Sanji’s knee was caught under him. Carefully, trying not to wake him, Sanji pulled his leg free. Zoro’s shoulder was against Sanji’s, keeping the voices at bay. Sanji’s cigarettes were where he’d set them on the edge of the bath.

Fuck it. Sanji got up. The voices of the islanders crashed into his skull like an angry mob out to tear his brain apart. Sanji grit his teeth and fought against it. The fucking Tax Collector was not going to win.

Whereamiwhowamiwitheyesheavyshouldigetupnojustfivemoreminuteswhydreamsfeelsorealbutalsonotrealwasithinkingorsleepingwhydopillowshaveacoldsidewhycantiremembereverythingallatoncewhatisbreakfastwhatsounddoeslightmakeifitcouldmakenoiseishouldgetupishouldgetupishouldgetupbutdoihaveto…

The noise was intense. It drilled into his brain with unrelenting force. He could feel the headache already building behind his eyes. It wouldn’t be long until it became a migraine, that his stomach would grow nauseous, that he wouldn’t be able to see. He snagged his cigarettes from the side of the tub and fumbled with them as he pulled one from the pack. He could already see his hand shaking as he lit up.

Whodrankallmywaterlastnightohwaititwasmenoitsnotwhydoessleepfeelshorterdreamwasweirdbutwhathappenedtoitgoneevaporatedlikemistwhydoesmyarmfeeldeadohnoisitbrokenohwaitthat’sjustthealarm…

Naked, Sanji sat on the edge of the tub and smoked his cigarette. He let the voices pound into his head, the headache growing stronger. He eyed Zoro, sleeping half on the towel, half on the tile floor. He could be touching Zoro within three steps.

Waterhotbutnottoohothairwetbutfeelsdrywhydoestileslookweirdupclosewhatissoapreallywhydowefrictiondirtawaywhydropsraceeachotherdowntheshowerwallfuckfuckyoufeelsogoodwhichonewillwinwhydomyfingersthat’srightsuckmydickwrinklewhatspurposewhatarewewithoutwaterwhattimeisitshouldigetoutsoonididialreadywashmyhair…

Sanji blew smoke from his nose and pressed his hand to his forehead. His temples throbbed, his shoulders were up around his ears. He was not going to let the voices win.

Toastburnsuddenlyovernightmysterysolvedtoasterisaconspiracynostoptouchingmyplateitsminewhydoyouevenwantmyfoodwhenyouhaveyourownspoonfeelsweirdwhereismyspoonwhotookmyspoonwhysthiscrunchsosuddenlykidsarguingovertheonlycleanbowlwhynotjustwashtheotheronewhydotheyscreamwhenwordswoulddoisitphysicallyimpossibleforthemtoeatsilent…

Nausea rolled in Sanji’s stomach. His vision blurred. A migraine formed. Spikes dug into the back of his neck. He took another drag from his cigarette, his hand shaking hard.

Dontwanttobutwhatifimissedsomethingbutwhatifididntwhydomorningsmelllikeairwhatisairanywaywhyismyfootcoldohitsoutoftheblanketisthefloorrealifeelliketheceilingiswatchingmewhowrotethesebottlelabelsweforgetitalloncewetoweldryshouldigetoutnoworstandhereforever…

Sanji crushed the cigarette on the side of the tub, slipped over the edge, and sank into the water. He let it envelop his head, sitting on the bottom of the large tub. His hair floated like jellyfish tentacles on the surface. Water flooded his ears.

Whydobananashavestringswhydoihavetomakeaplateforthedolltoowhendoesimaginationturnintoentitlementwhytherepeanutbutteroneverythinghowdidthatevenhappenwhyismyshirtstickyisitjellyorisitsomethingworse…

The pain was so terrible that Sanji wanted to smash his skull against the side of the tub repeatedly. He yanked at the sides of his hair. Some strands came free. The migraine speared his eyes and his temples. He couldn’t see when he opened his eyes. He was going to vomit. He was going to vomit.

Sanji splashed up from the tub, scrambled over the edge, and tripped over Zoro as he bolted for the door. Zoro awoke with a start, his thoughts adding to the chaotic noise in Sanji’s head. Sanji tried to work the lock but he couldn’t get it undone. He lost the hold on stomach and vomited against the door and onto the tile at his feet.

“Sanji!” Zoro was there, wrapping his arms around Sanji’s waist. Silence dropped over Sanji’s mind, but it was too late. Zoro unlocked the door, opening it, practically carrying Sanji to the water closet. Sanji threw up again as Zoro got him over the toilet. It splashed onto the seat and into the bowl.

Shit, shit, shit. I let go of him again. Stupid. You can’t do that. He needs you. Zoro’s frantic thoughts weren’t helping Sanji’s migraine.

“Not your fault.” Sanji gagged at another influx of bile in the back of his throat and vomited again. He was on his knees now and it all made it inside the toilet.

It is my fault. Stupid fuckhead. You can’t get anything right.

“Zoro stop.” Sanji rested his cheek against the cool edge of the toilet seat. “I did this to myself.”

“What do you mean?” Zoro was crouched behind him, his arms still around Sanji’s waist.

“I don’t want the Tax Collector to win,” Sanji said with a wretched tone. “I don’t want this to be the fight I can’t beat.”

Shit. Zoro pressed his forehead against the nape of Sanji’s neck. I can’t fix this. I can’t do anything.

Sanji felt the tears streaking down his cheeks. He was a pathetic mess. “Just… be quiet for me.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your thoughts. Your mind. It’s almost always calm and silent. An empty ocean I can float on.” Sanji rested his hand on Zoro’s where it wrapped around him. His head hurt so very badly. “With you, I am still me.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? When the voices came, Sanji’s own thoughts were drowned out. That they were replaced by the cacophony of others. It was as if he was being erased and every single other person was being superimposed onto his psyche. He was no longer himself. He was everyone and no one.

“I’ll be anything you need me to be,” Zoro said. Always.

Zoro helped Sanji clean himself up, their toothbrushes being already with them a blessing. Sanji sat in his pajamas on the floor, holding onto Zoro’s ankle as Zoro cleaned up the messes Sanji had made. Zoro’s thoughts were few, mostly about making sure he got it all. They’d brought clothing up, but Sanji needed to take a painkiller with a sleeping agent to get rid of the migraine. He may as well be comfortable.

They took the time to use the cleaned toilet before heading downstairs. Sanji felt bad that such a good morning had been ruined by his own idiocy. Sanji hung onto Zoro’s shoulder as Zoro found the pre-mixed medication – Chopper had said he wasn’t going to leave it to chance after Sanji’s demonstration of how painful it was last night. Zoro dumped the dose in a glass of water, mixed it, and handed it to Sanji. Sanji drank it down.

Lights off, Zoro shed his katanas and climbed into the infirmary bed with Sanji. He’d only dressed in clean trousers. Their shoes were still up in the bathroom, along with the rest of their things. Sanji spared half a thought for the towel still spread on the floor, wondering what the others might think. The stabbing in his brain made it difficult to care.

He felt a kiss on the nape of his neck. This time, I won’t let go.

Sanji entwined his fingers with Zoro’s where they rested against Sanji’s chest. He waited for the medication to take effect, surrounded by the quiet ocean of Zoro’s mind.

The Thousand Sunny left Little Lotus Harbor an hour after the sun had risen. Sanji slept through breakfast and past lunch before he woke to find the ship rocking on unsteady seas. Zoro was curled tightly against him, arms and legs around him, as if he were afraid Sanji might escape. His breathing was steady, the fan of his lashes long against his cheek. Sanji had turned during his medicated sleep so he was facing Zoro. He wiggled a hand free from where it had been pinned against Zoro’s chest in order to trace down Zoro’s strong jaw. How many times had he kicked this jaw as they fought? It felt strange to have this sort of intimacy with someone who annoyed him.

They hadn’t had an argument yet. In fact, Zoro hadn’t said anything over the past days to set Sanji off. He knew that Zoro didn’t think aggressive thoughts or annoyed ones about Sanji. He didn’t think about much at all. He simply existed in the now without bother or anticipation.

Zoro’s eye fluttered open and his sleepy gaze met Sanji’s. He’s here. Good. “Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey.” Sanji ran his finger along Zoro’s jawline again. “Why haven’t we argued yet?”

“Huh?” I like that.

It took Sanji a second to understand that Zoro meant he liked Sanji touching him. “We haven’t gotten into an argument yet and we’ve been in each other’s pockets for days.”

I pick those fights on purpose. “Dunno. Maybe it’s the sex?”

Sanji called him on his lie. “Did you pick them on purpose?”

A blush stole across Zoro’s cheeks. Yes. “Maybe.”

“Idiot marimo.” Sanji felt fondness warm his chest. He remembered Zoro mentioning, or thinking, about making Sanji mad on purpose. “Every fight?”

“Maybe.” Yes.

“Why?”

Zoro hesitated. He’s not gonna make fun of me, is he? No, he won’t do that. I hope he won’t do that.

Sanji didn’t press, or reassure Zoro. Zoro needed to make up his own mind to answer.

“Because I wanted to spend time with you.” Zoro finally said aloud. “It’s hard for me to be around people all the time, because I’m not good at holding a conversation and people don’t like it if I’m just quiet. But arguing and fighting with you is always fun. I know how to respond to it. The challenges we do have made me feel like we have a connection. So when I want to hang out with you, I pick a fight.”

Sanji’s chest tightened. Zoro picked fights with him just to hang out? That was… so very Zoro. And Zoro was right; Sanji wouldn’t have put up with him if he was sitting around doing nothing but watching Sanji and not talking. It would have felt like an intrusion or a judgment. Sanji was hard enough on himself without thinking Zoro was judging him, as well.

Sanji recalled the times he yelled at Zoro when he was with the others for the way he spoke, or when he was sitting around doing nothing while everyone else was occupied. He hadn’t known it was difficult for Zoro to be with people. He’d called Zoro dumb and stupid and an asshole, when Zoro could have been trying his best to interact with the others. Sanji felt like a dick.

He studied the face of the man who had been by his side non-stop since this madness started. Zoro never complained, never thought about being somewhere else. He helped Sanji wash and dress, cleaned up Sanji’s sick, stuck his foot through a water closet door without a thought of disgust. All Zoro thought about was making sure that Sanji was okay.

Sanji thought of Zoro’s presence in the kitchen yesterday, holding onto Sanji’s beltline, so quiet but there. That was Zoro being himself. That was Zoro as he would be naturally, if he didn’t feel the need to pick a fight in order to be in Sanji’s company. Sanji thought of the ease of being in Zoro’s company since then, the quiet want Sanji felt for his presence, even the desire for sexual contact had been soft and muted. And Sanji liked it. He liked it a lot.

Sanji moved closer, lifting his lips to meet Zoro’s. He kissed Zoro softly. “I crave the quiet now.”

I don’t know what that means, but it must be good or he wouldn’t kiss me. Zoro’s hand slid up Sanji’s back to rest between his shoulder blades. He pressed his mouth to Sanji’s, drawing him into a deeper kiss. The doors to the infirmary were shut, the sounds of the waves against the hull wrapping them in a privacy. Sanji slid his hand down Zoro’s bare chest and over Zoro’s groin. He rubbed Zoro through his trousers, bringing him to hardness.

Zoro’s thoughts filtered through Sanji’s mind, about how much he liked Sanji touching him, kissing him. Sanji wanted Zoro, wanted to be filled by Zoro now that he felt he truly understood who Zoro was as a man. Sanji broke the kiss and murmured against Zoro’s lips, “Claim me again.”

Zoro exhaled sharply, desire evident. He kissed Sanji hard on the lips. Mine. Then, he pushed Sanji onto his back, working his way down Sanji’s body, sucking kisses into his skin. Sanji closed his eyes as Zoro tugged off his pajama bottoms. Then Zoro’s mouth was on him again, pushing his knees up, kissing him intimately like he did that morning. Sanji moaned softly as Zoro’s tongue worked him over and he could hear Zoro’s pride over the fact that he was giving Sanji pleasure.

Sanji knew the infirmary doors were unlocked, knew that any of the crew could walk in on them, but he didn’t care. Zoro took him, once again, to great heights with his mouth and his fingers, opening him, caressing him, making him writhe. Zoro knew exactly how to touch him inside to make his body sing. He cried out as an orgasm washed over him, shooting onto his belly, hearing Zoro’s voice in his mind. He's beautiful when he comes.

Zoro moved over him, pushing his legs back, erection pressing at his tongue-dampened hole. Sanji opened beneath him, accepting him, feeling the stretch and the almost-burn of Zoro’s hard length filling him. Sanji couldn’t really feel physical pain anymore, but he could feel that Zoro was big and stiff and opening him wide. His body wanted it, wanted more, and Zoro gave it to him, drawing back and thrusting deep. Sanji’s head rolled on the pillow and he clutched at Zoro’s shoulders as Zoro moved in him, took him, and claimed him like Sanji wanted him to do.

I want him like this, with me, forever. Zoro shifted, taking Sanji’s hands from his shoulders, pinning them above his head. He pressed over Sanji, pinning his legs back, changing the angle, pounding into Sanji now as if he wanted to leave a mark. Sanji keened in the back of his throat as Zoro’s cock hit him in that place over and over again. Zoro kissed Sanji hard on the lips, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more frantic. It drove Sanji over the edge again and he came with another cry of ecstasy as he spilled between their bodies.

Sanji’s body must have clenched around Zoro when he came, because Zoro’s thoughts turned into a litany of So tight, so tight, so tight. Soon, Zoro found his own release, flooding Sanji’s insides with his cum as his body shuddered and his breathing stopped. When he was done, he collapsed atop Sanji with his full weight, folding Sanji’s body fully in half. The position was unabashedly sexual and exposing, even with Zoro covering him.

Sanji brought his own breathing under control, listening to the quiet around them and inside his head. His arms were pinned above him and Zoro’s face was pressed against his neck. He knew when Zoro came back from orgasm when he heard the word, Mine. His lips curved as the continued possessiveness.

Zoro lifted his head, smiled at Sanji softly, and Sanji realized he wouldn’t mind being Zoro’s, at all.

They ended up having sex again. Sanji had mentioned about the come leaking out of his ass and Zoro thought it would be fun to clean Sanji up with his tongue. Sanji let him do it, and decided he was going to love being on his back for this man. He should’ve known by his enthusiasm over sucking cock that he was going to enjoy taking it up the ass.

They slipped out Chopper’s back door and up to the bathroom for a shower. Sanji’s clean change of clothes were still there from that morning, before the migraine forced him back into pajamas. His cigarettes were also there and Sanji lit up with a happy sigh.

The wind whipped the Sunny’s sails as she bobbed over the uneven seas. Jinbe was at the helm, with Luffy sitting on the figurehead, holding onto his hat. They found Usopp, Chopper, and Brook in the men’s quarters playing cards. Chopper was excited to see Sanji up and about again.

“Your pre-mixed medication helped tremendously,” Sanji told him. “Thank you.”

“I don’t need your thanks, dummy!” Chopper shouted while dancing happily.

Zoro exchanged his t-shirt for his long-coat in his locker, shrugging it over his broad shoulders while Sanji’s shoe touched Zoro’s boot.

“Do you have anything in particular you’d like for dinner?” Sanji asked, addressing all three at the table. “I’m feeling neglectful over my duties as a cook.”

“It’s all right, Sanji. We know you’ve been sick,” Usopp reassured him.

“Still no excuse for a sloppy work ethic,” Sanji said. “Now, tell me what you’d like to eat.”

Sanji moved without thinking, taking a step toward the sunken table where Chopper, Brook, and Usopp sat. The voices clamored into existence, rising up to lash at his brain. He reared as if struck. Then, Zoro’s hand was on his shoulder and the voices quelled again. “Careful, cook,” Zoro said, for once not blaming himself.

Sanji’s brow furrowed. “Zoro, lift your hand off for a second. I want to test something.”

Zoro hesitated. I hope he’s not making himself hurt again on purpose, he thought, before lifting his hand. He didn’t even think about trusting Sanji, Sanji noted, which meant he trusted Sanji implicitly.

The voices returned, but Sanji had been right. There were very few of them. Zoro was quiet, but he could clearly hear Chopper, Usopp, and Brook thinking about what they wanted to eat. Nami was thinking about the map she was working on. Robin and Franky were puzzling over some invention in the hold. Jinbe was concentrating on steering the ship. Luffy was singing a sea shanty in his head.

It was… tolerable. Sanji could handle this for a while. He knew it would result in a headache, but it wouldn’t be immediate. He turned toward Zoro with a grin. “Guess I won’t be needing your services all the time if we’re at sea.”

“What do you mean?” Zoro said, his hand hovering by Sanji but not touching him yet.

“There’s only nine of you on the ship. I’m not in debilitating pain.” Sanji felt elated. While the buzz of thoughts were distracting and would get annoying, he could get back to his job and his life for a while. “I don’t need you.”

“Oh.” Zoro’s hand fell slowly and his jaw went tight. He doesn’t need me anymore. “Well, good. I was getting tired of doing this anyway.” Why does it hurt so much?

Sanji realized he was hearing Zoro’s heart break. It gutted him. “Dumbass, that’s not what I meant.”

Yeah, that’s me, the dumbass. Stupid Zoro who thought Sanji might actually love him back. You’re so fucking stupid. Stupid, stupid–

Sanji kissed Zoro, cutting of his self-destructive thoughts mid-stream. Everyone’s else’s minds cut out, except Zoro’s. Zoro made a surprised sound out loud and in his head. Sanji drew back, a hand resting on Zoro’s chest, and glared at him. “I told you, only I was allowed to call you stupid. So cut it out.”

I am very confused.

Sanji snorted and kissed him again. “Idiot. Just because I don’t need you to keep my brain quiet doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. You don’t even need to pick a fight.”

So he does need me? Zoro stared at Sanji blankly, and Sanji took pity on him.

“No, I don’t need you,” Sanji told him. “I want you. Understand the difference?”

It took Zoro a few seconds of mental gymnastics, all of which Sanji got to hear, before a big smile creased his face. “I get it.”

“Good.” Sanji kissed him again. “Now go lift weights or run katas or do whatever you do to keep yourself looking like a hulking brute. I know you haven’t been thinking about it, so I’ve thought about it for you. I’ll come and find you when it’s time.”

“Okay.” Zoro was still smiling. I should run katas, maybe get in a few reps with the dumbbell. “I’ll be in the crow’s nest.”

Sanji started to turn, but Zoro seized him by the cheeks and kissed him soundly. It made Sanji’s head spin in a good way. Still mine, Zoro thought. He drew back, smiled again, and released Sanji.

A chorus immediately sounded in Sanji’s head. Awwwwwww.

Sanji whipped around. Usopp, Chopper, and Brook sat at the table with their hands clasped under their chins, beaming at Sanji and Zoro with teary hearts in their eyes.

“That was so touching,” Brook sighed. “A thousand love songs could be written from that moment.”

“Only my love for Kaya shines as brightly,” Usopp added with a bigger sigh.

“This is so great!” Chopper gushed. “You two are really cute together!”

Sanji felt his face go up in flames. He could hear Brook composing lyrics and Usopp waxing poetically about Kaya in his head. Chopper was making plans to use the information against them to get them to stay in bed when injured. Zoro was surprisingly quiet in thought.

“I’m gonna go lift weights,” Zoro announced and clomped past Sanji out of the men’s quarters. Gonna piss first.

Sanji wanted to murder him. But now he really wanted to take a piss by himself, too. He addressed his gooey-eyed trio of nakama. “Right. Zoro and I are together now. Get over it. What do you want for dinner?”

Word spread fast on the ship, and Sanji was bombarded with cutesy thoughts of himself and Zoro. It was sickening. Luckily, Sanji had dinner prep to distract him. Luffy showed up, all sunshine and smiles, and tied his hand around Sanji’s ankle without asking or being asked. Sanji felt the relief of his nakamas minds melting into soft puddles.

“Do you think if we chopped Zoro’s toe off and tucked it in your pocket, it would work?”

Sanji coughed as he inhaled his cigarette wrong. “What the hell are you talking about?” Luffy hadn’t thought anything before blurting out that off-putting question.

“So you can fight,” was Luffy’s reply. “You’re one of the strongest fighters we have. And I know you’ll be unhappy if you have to sit out.”

Sanji would be more than unhappy, but that didn’t need to be said aloud. “We’re not going to cut off Zoro’s toe to find out.”

“Maybe a piece of his ear? He doesn’t need the whole top.”

“Luffy, you are exceedingly disturbing.”

Luffy merely grinned and laughed. “Shi-shi-shi.”

The rest of the crew came to the galley when dinner was called. Sanji had the pleasure of serving everyone again, moving around the table, doing his job. Thoughts and conversation were similar and Sanji didn’t feel like he was intruding when he joined in. Zoro was quiet, as usual, enjoying his food and watching Sanji work. Sanji caught his eye and Zoro smiled reflexively. It made Sanji’s heart flip.

Eventually, everyone left but Zoro. Zoro settled in behind Sanji, hand curled in his beltline, as Sanji tidied the kitchen. He’d waved off help with the dishes, wanting the ritual to himself after having neglected his crew for numerous meals. He floated on the peaceful quiet of Zoro’s mind, his body moving automatically through the tasks. He felt comfortable. Happy, even.

When he finally finished, Zoro was simply there, without guile or awkwardness. Sanji drew him in for a kiss and then went down on his knees. Zoro’s thoughts flitted to him as he drank in Zoro’s smell, his taste, the feel of him sliding in and out of Sanji’s mouth. And when he came, Sanji painted his face, giving Zoro his unspoken claim. Yours.

It was three weeks before the Thousand Sunny came upon another island. Sanji spent them freely, going about the ship and his job without too much care, his nakamas thoughts accompanying him wherever he went. He rotated between Jinbe, Luffy, and Zoro when need be, when a headache began to tighten his brow.

When Zoro wasn't busy doing his own thing, he hung out with Sanji. Sometimes he sat at the table cleaning his swords. Sometimes he sat at the bar and watched Sanji work. Sometimes he acted as an anchor, his hand curled in Sanji's beltline. All the while, he was quiet, being truly himself.

Sanji was comfortable, not feeling the need to fill the silence with endless chatter, to entertain. He didn't feel like he wanted to fight either, and wasn't annoyed by Zoro's presence. They still talked. Sanji would ask Zoro's opinion on something, or ask about Zoro's training, questions that invited the kind of conversation that Zoro felt comfortable with. Sanji found it easy, this shift in relating to Zoro. He was intimately aware of how Zoro thought, which made communicating with him more intuitive. He doubted they ever would have had what they now shared if Sanji hadn't been cursed. They would have kept on arguing, Sanji would have continued to think that Zoro was actually a dumb asshole, and Zoro never would have acted as his real self.

Sanji started hearing the voices from the island about a quarter of a nautical mile from shore. Banana Bay was named after the numerous banana trees that grew on the island. The town was populous and sprawling, with three-floor buildings and homes stacked close together, creating narrow alleys and streets. Two other pirate ships were docked in port, along with numerous other ships that flew various colors. No marines appeared to be present.

They didn’t recognize the jolly rogers the other two pirate ships flew. “Try not to start a fight,” Nami warned as she dolled out Beli upon docking at the port. “If you do, I’m charging you an annoyance fee.”

Sanji, Zoro, Chopper and Usopp descended the gangplank together, carrying expandable packs. The ship needed restocking, and Sanji had his own money to resupply his cigarette habit. Sanji wore a full suit with yellow shirt and black tie. Zoro, dressed in his long-coat, walked beside him with his hand curled in Sanji’s beltline. Sanji had thought about holding hands with him, but Sanji would need to use his while shopping.

The marketplace bustled with activity. A giant, open warehouse with stalls housed vendors that sold everything from food to medicine to clothing to ship repair items. A cigarette hanging from his lips and Zoro’s quiet head allowing him to think for himself, Sanji made his way through the market, stopping at the stalls, stocking up on supplies. He packed Zoro’s backpack first, overfilling it with non-perishable items first, then visiting the vendors for fresh items. Chopper and Usopp had peeled off to stock up on medical supplies and items for Usopp’s pellets and inventions.

Sanji haggled, price compared, and felt satisfied that he’d gotten the most for his Beli without compromising on flavor. He bought numerous cartons of cigarettes and a few extra lighters. Zoro spoke up at one point, asking for sword oil, and that was added to their packs. By the time they were done, it was late afternoon.

Walking with Zoro down the street, heading back toward the ship, Sanji thought about how he wanted to spend his evening. Maybe Zoro would want to try out one of the restaurants he’d spotted. Zoro tended to go for taverns, where he could drink his Beli away without having to interact with people if he didn’t feel like it. If they went to the fancier one that had caught Sanji’s eye, he’d have to dress Zoro up. “Do you still have your suit from Dressrosa?”

“The shirt and the trousers,” Zoro said. “Why?” I hated that suit. Glad the jacket got lost.

“Hn.” Sanji nixed the fancy restaurant idea. “Never mind.”

Zoro’s attention caught on a man standing on a corner, miming that he was trapped in a box. What the fuck is he doing?

Sanji didn’t pay the mime any attention, sliding his cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other. Maybe one of the family restaurants, that catered to messy children and uncouth swordsmen? He’d seen at least two, and there were likely more scattered about town. He could ask a local for a recommendation, as that tended to be the best way to find the good places. Once they got the supplies back to the ship, he’d freshen up and see if Zoro was interested.

A loud boom distracted Sanji from his meal plans and Zoro from puzzling over invisible boxes. Their heads jerked in the direction of the sound. Sanji spotted a large plume of smoke rising over the buildings.

“Luffy,” Zoro said.

“Luffy,” Sanji agreed.

Zoro took a step in the direction of the explosion, but stopped abruptly. Shit. Can’t go. Got to stay with Sanji.

But Sanji had prepared for this, just in case Luffy pulled a Luffy. He looked around them. “Follow me,” Sanji told Zoro, even though Zoro had yet to remove his hand from Sanji’s beltline.

Sanji led the way down the alley between a bank and a salon. A large dumpster stood halfway down the narrow alley. “Pack,” Sanji said.

What are we doing here? Zoro shrugged off his pack, changing hands to keep touch on Sanji, and handed it over. “What’s going on, cook?”

“You are going to go after Luffy.” Sanji set the heavy pack on the ground, as well as his own, behind the dumpster. “I am going to stay here.”

“But your head,” Zoro protested. “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself like that.”

“You don’t get to prevent me from doing anything,” Sanji said. He pulled a flask from his breast pocket. “I have Chopper’s cocktail of painkiller and sleeping agent here. I’m going to tuck behind this dumpster and our packs and you can find me later.”

Zoro’s thoughts were torn about leaving Sanji and going to help Luffy. They both heard screams in the distance and Sanji made the decision for him. “Go. I’ll be okay. Ask people where the Lucky Cat Salon is when you’re done and you’ll be able to find me again.”

“Lucky Cat Salon,” Zoro repeated. Lucky Cat Salon, Lucky Cat Salon, Lucky Cat Salon. Don’t forget.

Sanji opened the flask and downed its contents. He would have to wait about fifteen to twenty minutes before it took effect. He was lucky it worked at all, since his rapid healing ability flushed toxins out of his system at a fast rate. He wasn’t going to remind Zoro about the delay. Another explosion shook the air and Zoro itched to go and help at the same time worrying about Sanji.

Sanji snagged the front of Zoro’s coat and yanked him into a quick, hard kiss that startled Zoro out of his worried thoughts. “Go, you idiot. Take down a few enemies for me.”

“Okay.” Zoro gave him a short, concerned look. Please, be okay while I’m gone. Then, he took off.

The pain was immediate, the voices deafening. It was as if Zoro drove one of his blades directly into Sanji’s head. He was glad Zoro had already run out of the alley as he staggered against the dumpster, grabbing his hair. The island was bigger than Little Lotus Harbor had been, and there was a panic going on from the explosions. Sanji sat down quickly, pulling the packs around him, hooking an arm in each one to insure they didn’t get stolen.

It didn’t take long for the migraine to set in. His vision blurred, the nausea hit him in full force. He had hoped he wouldn’t vomit before the painkiller took effect, but it wasn’t to be. He shoved himself to his feet and retched into the dumpster. Agony stabbed through his eyeballs and shoved spikes into the back of his head where his neck met his skull. He clung to the side of the dumpster, knowing he was going to vomit again. He could barely stay on his feet. He wanted to curl up and die.

He puked again, fighting the excruciating pain in his head. The voices kept bombarding him, loud and unintelligible. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He just had to survive until the painkiller took effect.

He lost whatever was left in his stomach a third time, and then mostly bile the fourth. Time seemed endless. He finally collapsed to the ground, curling into himself, pressing his forehead hard against the cooler metal side of the dumpster. The onslaught of voices continued tearing at his mind until he wept openly onto the ground beneath him. He puked again, hardly more than bile, letting it puddle under his gasping mouth and cheek.

An indeterminable, agonizing amount of time later, Chopper’s painkiller and sleep agent took effect, and Sanji was taken gratefully into oblivion.

Sanji roused slightly from his heavily medicated sleep to his trousers being pulled down and an oily voice in his mind. I’ll have myself a taste before I turn him in for the reward.

The voices were dimmer, smothered by a layer of sleeze. Sanji tried to get his brain working. Something was wrong. Zoro would never do this. Sanji needed to move, needed to protect himself. He found his hips being lifted and positioned. Mm, nice. I’m going to enjoy this.

Sanji felt something blunt being pressed against his asshole and adrenaline spiked him awake. He reared up, swinging his elbow back. It smashed into someone’s face. “Ow!” The unknown hands left him and the voices exploded in his head. He whimpered in pain, fighting against it and the lingering drugs clouding his movements. He pivoted on his knee, lashing out again with a fist, his trousers tangled around his calves. It connected. The guy yelled out again.

Sanji blinked the blur from his vision. There was a man, a disgusting, greasy man with oversized clothing clutching his face. Blood spurted from between the man’s fingers. Sanji pivoted again, sitting on his bare ass, and double kicked as hard as he could. The man went flying across the narrow alley and slammed hard into the stucco wall. He collapsed into a heap.

Sanji fought the nausea slithering up his gullet. The voices drowned out his own thoughts, splicing into his brain with unrelenting force. He fixed his trousers and dragged himself over to the man. If he passed out, he didn’t want to be surprised again. He put his fingers to the man’s throat.

Instantly, the voices quelled. It was as if a blanket had been thrown over them, muffling them. The relief was palpable. Sanji’s medicine-fogged mind cleared. His would-be rapist ended up being a savior. Sanji laughed weakly and sank onto his heels, still touching the guy. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. He wondered if it was because the guy was unconscious that it muffled the voices. Zoro and he slept together, and Zoro had a quiet mind. Sanji hadn’t touched any of his crew while they were asleep, to find out if state of consciousness would have muffled the voices. A misstep on his part.

He was glad he’d managed to wake up in time to not be the victim of assault. In the three-plus weeks they’d been together, Sanji had learned that Zoro wasn’t aggressive at all. He didn’t initiate any of their sexual encounters. He only thought about sex when he woke up snuggled against Sanji sporting a hard on. It made Sanji curious how he’d ever gotten laid in the past. He definitely had experience. Other people must’ve come on to him.

The setting sun cast long shadows in the alley, shrouding Sanji and the man. His packs were still there. Apparently, his ass was more tempting than giant backpacks full of supplies. He snorted out smoke with his huff of a laugh. He was vain enough to feel a bit of pride about that.

Sanji finished his cigarette and flicked the butt across the alley. He could use a drink to wash the taste of vomit from his mouth. He had some dried to his chin, as well. Thankfully, it didn’t appear that he’d gotten any on his suit. He was tired of ruining his clothing.

Shifting, Sanji toed the two packs closer. He kept his knee against the unconscious man’s leg as he shifted one onto his back and the other onto his front. Then he stuffed the skeezy man’s cock back into his trousers with a gag of revulsion. He stood and hefted the man over his shoulders, resting him on the pack. His lips curled with disgust when he realized the guy’s crotch was pressed against the back of his head. Still, it muffled the voices and Sanji was able to move.

He found a beverage seller first, buying a bottle of water. The seller eyed the unconscious man but didn’t comment. Sanji drank and spat in a nearby alley and used the water to wash his face. Feeling better, Sanji took stock of his situation. He could stay in the marketplace and wait for Zoro, leave some sort of message by the salon and go back to the ship, or head in the direction of the smoke still rising for the clouds.

It was an easy choice. Sanji set off in the direction of the smoke. He had a bad headache, but it wasn't migraine-proportion. He wasn’t sure how long he was out before Mr. Rapist had found Sanji and yanked him from his drugged slumber. The sun had set lower in the sky. Sanji guessed it was a couple of hours. He was surprised that there still might be a fight happening, or at least a fire. He hoped his nakama were all right.

Sanji had little trouble navigating the busy, narrow streets. The streets cleared of people the closer he got to the smoke. He came around a corner and was surprised to see a marine base. The walls of the base were in tatters, and he spotted Franky shooting rockets, knocking more into rubble.

Sanji jogged over to him. Franky lit up with surprise and delight. “Sanji! Good to see you walking. Who’s your friend?”

“Sound dampener,” Sanji replied offhandedly. He gestured with his chin toward the base. “What’s going on?”

“The Red Badge Pirates have taken over the base,” Franky filled him in. “They had hostages, but Robin, Nami and Brook got them out. Chopper’s with them, giving care to the injured. Usopp is up on that rooftop over there, picking off anyone who comes out of the main building on the base. Luffy, Zoro, and Jinbe headed inside a couple hours ago. Haven’t seen them since.”

Sanji frowned. “That’s unsettling.”

“Yeah, bro. I agree.”

Sanji shrugged off his packs, leaving them with Franky. He shifted the man to his shoulder, keeping an arm secure around his limp form. “I’m going in.”

“You sure?” Franky sounded concerned. “Not worried about your head and all?”

“As long as I have this guy,” Sanji smacked the man’s leg, “I’ll be fine.”

“Super.” Franky launched another rocket at the crumbling walls. “Check you later.”

Sanji took off at a jog, heading through the open patch of wall that Franky had created. The courtyard of the marine base was littered with fallen pirates, rubble, and craters. A star shot past him as he approached the stairs, felling a pirate as he came out of the broken doors to the base. Sanji lifted a hand in acknowledgment of Usopp before heading inside.

Sanji could tell the marine base had long since been abandoned. Broken furniture, graffiti, and general disrepair was evident. He stepped over more dead pirates, glancing in offices and corridors as he progressed further into the building. The blanket over the voices in his mind also made it so he couldn’t hear the other Straw Hats. He listened with his ears for fighting instead. Zoro, Jinbe, and Luffy were somewhere.

Sanji finished his sweep of the main building of the base and headed out to the yard. Several other buildings stood behind the walls: the barracks, the mess hall, the infirmary, the prison. He spotted Joy Boy fighting an enormous Goat-Man on top of the four-storey barracks building. A portion of the building had been demolished. Sanji left Luffy to him, and ducked into the mess hall, which was closest to the main building.

The mess hall was empty of bodies and familiar faces. Sanji headed for the infirmary next to find it equally as empty. That left the prison. He crossed the open exercise yard, past the execution row, and stepped into the prison’s open main door. He took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

The marine prison appeared like any other prison, with multiple floors going up and down, a main guard station at the front, and a distinct smell of unwashed bodies and piss. Sanji passed two corpses at the guard station as he went further into the prison. He heard a scuffle up ahead and mentally prepared an attack.

The scuffle turned out to be Jinbe, coming down from the upper floor, bloody and limping. He smiled when he saw Sanji. “Ah, Sanji-san. I am delighted for you to join us. However, there does not appear to be anyone left for you to fight.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji went to offer Jinbe his other shoulder, which the Fish-man took gratefully. “Looks like it’s been a long fight.”

“That it has been,” Jinbe confirmed, as Sanji escorted him out of the prison. “We had to be cautious until we had freed the hostages. That took quite a while. Once they were safe, we were free to fully unleash our attacks.”

“Hn.” Sanji was sad he’d missed the fighting. He’d wished he’d learned about unconscious sound dampeners sooner. “You seen Zoro?”

“Not recently. He went down while I went up, in the prison.”

Sanji nodded, and he helped Jinbe through the main building and out the front wall. Franky spotted them and hustled over to assist. “Jinbe, you’re not looking so super, bro.”

“I will admit I feel not so super, as you put it,” Jinbe confessed.

“Will you take him to Chopper?” Sanji asked Franky. “I’m going to see if I can find Zoro.”

“You got it.” Franky took Jinbe from Sanji’s shoulder to his own. “He’s not far. We set up the makeshift infirmary in the tavern.”

“There’s an infirmary in the base,” Sanji said. “Luffy’s fighting someone, but I didn’t see anyone else conscious or alive. You could grab supplies from there if Chopper needs them.”

“That’s super. Thanks, bro.” Franky and Jinbe went off.

Sanji shifted the unconscious man on his shoulder again, getting him into a more comfortable position. He wondered how long the guy would be out. He’d have to smack the guy on a wall or something if he roused. But that wasn’t an issue at the moment. He had a marimo to find.

Sanji went back into the marine base, through the main building, and into the yard. Luffy seemed to be winding up his fight with the giant Goat-Man. Sanji returned to the prison and looked for the steps going down. He found them toward the rear, past a line of empty holding cells.

The stairs wound around and came out on a lower floor. Sanji smelled the scent of old, dried blood and piss. His lips curled. It was obvious immediately this was a floor made for torture.

Sanji saw felled pirates in the corridor and a few in the interrogation rooms on either side of the hall. All bore slash marks and sword strikes. He followed the trail of bodies as it led deeper under the prison. There was another stairwell going down at the far end of the corridor, which he took.

The next level down was a cesspit that fouled Sanji’s nose. The floor prior had been a tea party compared to whatever happened down here. Sanji found more bodies and a lot of blood stained torture equipment, such as racks, iron maidens, and cages dangling over fire pits. Dead Red Badge Pirates added to the macabre display on that level.

Sanji heard a sound ahead that sounded a lot like the marimo grunting. He quickened his footsteps and nearly ran into the neck-height swing of an armament-coated sword. His reflexes and observation haki prevented him from potentially losing his head. He leapt backwards and a man wearing a red badge on his label stepped out from an open torture room. He grinned with blackened teeth at Sanji and launched an attack.

Sanji was thrilled. He got to fight! He kicked his toe onto the floor, lighting his leg on fire. He was only at a slight disadvantage, needing to hold onto Mr. Rapist. He could flip one-handed with ease, however, or no hands if necessary. He didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the fight.

The Red Badge Pirate wasn’t a pushover, but Sanji had fought harder opponents. His fiery kicks range against the pirate’s blade. He used the narrow corridor to give himself height, launching off the wall to kick at the pirate’s head. The fight was fast and furious, slashes and stabs, kicks, blocks, and dodges. Sanji heard Mr. Rapist’s head hit the ground at one point, but he didn’t die, so Sanji didn’t care. He exchanged blows with the Red Badge Pirate until Sanji managed to disarm the man. Then it was only a matter of a few Diable Jambe kicks before the pirate’s flame was snuffed out.

Smiling, Sanji fished a cigarette out of his jacket and lit it. He extinguished his leg. He took a deep drag from his smoke, savoring it. He’d needed that fight. He’d thought he’d be out of it forever, but he’d found a workaround. All he needed was an unconscious body and he was good to go. He could stick with Zoro for the beginning of whatever trouble they got into and then he could go off on his own. It was fantastic. He couldn’t wait to share the news with Zoro.

Thinking of Zoro, Sanji could still hear grunting coming from further down the hall. Sanji ambled in that direction, enjoying his cigarette. “Marimo! Is that you making all that noise?”

“Cook?” Zoro sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Possibly rescuing your ass.” Sanji approached where he’d heard Zoro and peered into an open torture chamber. He stared at Zoro, suppressing a laugh. “What the hell happened to you?”

Zoro was hanging from the ceiling, appearing to be attached to it by thick, purple goo. He was bloody and battered. A dead Red Badge Pirate lay in pieces on the floor. Zoro was covered in goo up to his waist. His arms were free and he was hacking at the goo with one of his swords. He held his other two unsheathed katana in his other hand.

“This shit won’t cut,” Zoro groused. He grunted when he swung his upper body toward the ceiling in order to cut near his trapped feet. The sword seemed to bounce off the goo. “Not even armament haki does anything.”

Sanji kicked a severed hand as he walked into the room. He glanced at the dead pirate. “Your handiwork, I take it?”

“Yeah. Devil’s fruit user. I had to kill him from up here.”

Sanji was impressed. Zoro won immobilized and upside down. The small space probably helped him.

“How are you here?” Zoro asked him. “You don’t look to be in pain.”

Sanji pointed at the ass hanging over his shoulder. “Apparently unconscious people can be used to lower the sound. It’s not gone, but I can function for a while.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed. “How’d you figure that out?”

Sanji wasn’t about to tell him. Zoro would blame himself for leaving Sanji if he did. Nothing had happened, so it didn’t matter anyway. “Never mind that, marimo. Let’s see if a bit of fire will get you free.”

Sanji lit his foot, pivoted, and raised his leg high in the air. The flame licked at the purple goo and it started to melt. It didn’t take long for Zoro to crash onto the floor head-first. Sanji snickered at him. “Clutz.”

“Shut up.” Zoro pushed himself to his feet and shook his head. He winced and grabbed his side. Sanji could see blood staining his coat.

Sanji moved to his side quickly, trying to check on the injury. Zoro batted his hands away. “How bad is it?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Zoro slid his katanas into their sheaths. He cast a dispassionate glance at the dismembered Red Badge Pirate. “You see Luffy?”

“He was fighting some sort of Goat-Man on top of the barracks last time I looked. Appeared to be winning.”

“Of course he’d be winning.” Zoro headed out of the torture room and into the corridor. He turned the wrong way to reach the exit.

“Zoro.” Zoro stopped and glanced back at Sanji. Sanji pointed in the other direction. “That way.”

Zoro scowled. “I knew that.”

What Sanji knew was that Zoro was likely calling himself stupid in his head. Sanji quickly snatched his wrist as he was about to walk past, catching the end of a thought.

…idiot. Sanji should put you on a leash.

Sanji’s eyebrows climbed. “A leash, huh?”

Zoro started, surprised. How did he know that’s what I was thinking? Realization dawned over his face. Oh. He can read my thoughts. I am never going to remember that.

“If you call yourself stupid again, I’m going to get that leash and choke you with it,” Sanji warned, before Zoro’s thoughts could continue.

A contemplative look came into Zoro’s eye. Sanji couldn’t see pictures, but he knew that’s what Zoro was imagining. Nah. Can’t see it. “Just try it.”

Sanji grinned and tucked Zoro’s hand into the beltline of his trousers. The blanketed voices went almost fully silent. He tossed Mr. Rapist onto the floor. “Maybe you’d prefer that I wear the leash.”

Zoro stared blankly for a moment, and Sanji could imagine him picturing it. Zoro’s face suddenly flushed fiery red. Oh shit, that’s hot.

Sanji chuckled. He doubted he would do it, but it was fun to stir Zoro up. “C’mon, marimo. You need Chopper and I need to brush my teeth before I kiss you again.”

“Why do you need to brush your teeth– oh.” He got sick again. I shouldn’t have left him, damn it.

“Don’t start. I told you to leave.” Sanji began leading the way out of the basement of the prison. “I may be yours, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you make my decisions for me.”

Zoro’s soft inhale tickled Sanji’s ears. He said he’s mine. “Do you mean it?”

Of course, that was what Zoro picked up on instead of the important bits. Though, Sanji supposed it was important, too. “Yeah, I mean it.”

Zoro surged forward and wrapped his arms around Sanji from behind. He buried his bloody face in the crook of Sanji’s neck. I’m so fucking happy. I wonder if he’d kick me if I kissed him anyway.

Sanji would kick Zoro, because that was disgusting. But the emotion behind Zoro’s thoughts warmed Sanji’s heart. “You’re getting blood on me, shit swordsman.”

Don’t care. Zoro hugged him a little tighter. “You’ll live.”

Sanji relaxed against Zoro. He did have a headache, but it was tolerable. Zoro’s thoughts had gone quiet as he stood there holding Sanji. Then, he winced and his brain told Sanji, Ow. My side fucking hurts.

Sanji chuckled softly and disentangled himself from Zoro’s arms. He opted to hold Zoro’s hand in his, entangling their fingers. “Dumbass. Let’s go find Chopper.”

Sanji and Zoro were last to use the bath once everyone had returned to the ship. Sanji insisted others go first, because he wanted Zoro alone with a door that locked between themselves and the others. Zoro followed him into the bathroom, hand on his shoulder, wearing only his blood-stained trousers.

I hope Sanji wants to have sex, Zoro thought, as he set his katanas on the bench near the door. I also hope he makes that meatloaf thing with the bacon and cheese for dinner.

Sanji smothered his amusement. To Zoro, sex and dinner held the same weight, and Zoro wouldn’t ask for either of them. Every single thing about Zoro was polar opposite than what Sanji had expected and if it weren’t for the Tax Collector, Sanji never would have known it. He kind of wanted to thank the guy, after killing him again in more violent and gruesome ways.

They shed their trousers and washed the blood and grime from their bodies. Sanji had made it a purpose to brush his teeth immediately after they’d gotten back to the ship. He waited until Zoro was distracted, rinsing the shampoo from his hair, to slide to his knees and take Zoro into his mouth. Zoro squeaked, which made Sanji laugh around Zoro’s cock, and then he closed his eyes and listened to Zoro’s excited thoughts in his mind.

Fuck, this feels good. I love it when he blows me. I wonder if he’s going to blow me all day again. I hope so. He’s so good at it. I still can’t believe he’s mine.

Sanji suckled Zoro’s cock to firmness, then began to blow Zoro in earnest. His lips were stretched taut and wide. He used his tongue to rub along the underside and swipe at the head. His hand worked the bottom of Zoro’s shaft until Zoro was no longer thinking of anything. Then, Sanji removed his hand, opened his throat, and took Zoro fully down.

Zoro made uncontrolled noises, his hands coming to tangle into Sanji’s hair. Sanji had been practicing for weeks, taking Zoro deeper and deeper every time he blew the other man. He knew today was the day he could finally take Zoro completely. He gripped onto Zoro’s hips, head bobbing, nose pressing repeatedly into Zoro’s moss green curls. Zoro’s hard length choked him slightly on every descent into his throat. He urged Zoro to start thrusting, enjoying the feeling of this type of claim. He was Zoro’s, after all.

When Zoro came, it was deep in Sanji’s throat, spilling down his gullet, instead of painting his face. Zoro’s body shuddered beneath Sanji’s hands as he pulsed against Sanji’s tongue. Sanji’s breath was cut off and he floated on the silent ocean in Zoro’s mind, at peace with himself. He stayed like that as long as he could before sliding Zoro from between his lips. He nuzzled Zoro’s spent cock, regaining his breath, reminding himself that, in spite of everything, he had survived.

The town government thanked the Straw Hats for rescuing its citizens with a pile of Beli. “We need to save townspeople more often,” Nami said with glee, dragging the big bag of Beli onboard the Sunny.

“We already do that,” Usopp pointed out, following her up the gangplank, with the rest of the crew trickling behind them.

“In rich towns,” Nami clarified.

“Why are you so greedy?!”

The Sunny set sail, leaving Banana Bay behind. The crew settled into its new normal, with Sanji seeking out relief when need be and Zoro hanging out with Sanji whenever he wished. He and Zoro fooled around in the galley, the storeroom, and the bathroom whenever the desire struck Sanji. Zoro never remembered that Sanji could hear his thoughts, and Sanji made it a point not to respond to them too often. It was an intimacy Sanji cherished and he protected it, even from himself.

One day, two weeks later, Franky replaced one of the single hanging bunks with a newly crafted double-wide bunk in the men’s quarters. The crew gathered in the men’s quarters for the reveal. Franky had put a bow on the end of the new bunk. Brook was playing incidental music to mark the occasion. The girls giggled. Chopper clapped excitedly. “So cool!”

“Yaha! This is great!” Luffy flung himself onto the lower bunk and rolled around. “So spacious!” Usopp joined him and the two began wrestling.

Sanji stared in horror. Zoro’s hand rested on Sanji’s lower back. That’s pretty nice.

“Since you two sleep together anyway, I thought you might like more space,” Franky said proudly. “Jinbe, I thought you’d like to take the top bunk, since you’re a bigger guy.”

“You are also of bigger size,” Jinbe pointed out.

“I’ve been in my bunk for ages now and have finally worked out all the kinks,” Franky said. “You can take it.”

“Then I shall humbly accept the offer.” Jinbe bowed to Franky. He climbed onto the top bunk and laid down. He adjusted his shoulders and relaxed with a pleased sigh. “Ah. This is excellent craftsmanship.”

“Don’t you guys want to try it out?” Franky asked Sanji and Zoro.

“No! We don’t want to try it out!” Sanji exclaimed, aghast, while Zoro thought, I’d like to try it out.

Franky’s pompadour drooped slightly. Sanji realized he’d come across as an asshole and quickly added, “It is great, Franky, but we’ll try it tonight.”

Franky’s hair raised again. “Super!”

Sanji smiled weakly, gave his excuses, and made his escape. He got an influx of thoughts from his nakama about the bed as he moved quickly away from Zoro toward the door. Embarrassment colored his cheeks, especially when he heard Nami and Robin thinking how adorable he was being.

Zoro caught up to him in the galley, hooking his hand in Sanji’s beltline. Sanji puffed with agitation on a cigarette. “Why’d you run off?” Zoro asked.

“He made us a bed.”

“Yeah. Kinda cool, isn’t it?” Zoro grinned. “Now we can spread out a bit and I don’t have to worry about falling on the floor.”

Of course Zoro would like it. Sanji paced between the refrigerator, sink, and stove-top, taking things out and putting them away at random. Franky had made them a bed. A double bed. Everyone would see it every day. It made a statement. He and Zoro were a couple indefinitely. Okay, yes, he and Zoro were a couple. And yes, Sanji had pretty much told Zoro he wanted it indefinitely. But this made it permanent. This made it real.

He took out the raisins. Maybe he’s gonna make those oatmeal cookies. Those are good.

Sanji wanted to laugh. Here he was having an emotional meltdown and Zoro was thinking about food. He turned to face Zoro, Zoro’s hand shifting along his beltline to his side. “You like the bed.” Sanji said it as a statement.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Zoro’s thoughts were clear as he waited for Sanji’s answer. He didn’t worry about what it would be, didn’t have any pretenses or artifice. He didn’t hope for one thing, or felt down about another. He was just his calm, quiet self. And Sanji loved everything about him.

“Yeah.” Sanji wrapped his arms around Zoro’s neck. “I like the bed.”

Zoro smiled brightly, the corner of his eye crinkling. “Can you make oatmeal raisin cookies?”

Zoro had finally asked him for food. Sanji felt his heart sing and he gave Zoro a kiss. “I love to.”

Sanji slipped past Zoro, running up the steep hill, a grin on his face. Zoro cursed and picked up speed. They were racing toward the top and the fight that was awaiting them. An unconscious marine hung on Sanji’s shoulders, secured to him using the straps Usopp had invented. It kept the marine in place so that Sanji could use both hands, do flips and hand-spins, and the man wouldn’t flop around. The islanders' thoughts were blanketed enough that Sanji could fight. There was nothing holding him back.

Except Zoro’s hand on his jacket, grabbing him to slow him down. “Bastard!”

Zoro laughed and pulled himself ahead of Sanji. “Slowpoke!”

Sanji knew he could bypass Zoro in an instant, with his genetically enhanced speed, but what fun would that be? He snagged the red sash on Zoro’s coat, spun Zoro around, and watched as Zoro started running down the hill. Sanji chortled. “You’re going the wrong way, marimo!”

Zoro skidded to a stop and looked around in confusion. Sanji called to him again, “Up here!”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder, grinned, and charged toward Sanji. Sanji waited until he was within two steps before pivoting on his heel and running up the hill again. They reached the top at the same time, and Sanji grabbed Zoro for a quick kiss.

Mm, I like Sanji kisses, floated through Sanji’s mind as their lips met.

A tickle of affection made Sanji laugh lightly and he stepped away. “Bet I beat my guy first.”

Zoro’s eye narrowed at the challenge. “Not a chance.”

Sanji winked at him and took off for the building on the right. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll come and find you after I win!”

“I’ll be napping on the corpse of my enemy when you get there!”

Sanji grinned, whacked the stirring marine on his shoulder into unconsciousness again, and drove headlong into battle alongside the subdued accompaniment of voices in his head. The Tax Collector’s words drifted through his memory. You will hear them until you die. You will be unable to function, unable to survive. I win.

Fuck you, Tax Collector, Sanji thought as he went after the crazed zoan chef currently slicing and dicing the building into pieces. I win.

End

The Quiet Ocean of His Mind