Damona Bay was a large island near Totto Land that sported a small city that sprawled along the coast. Beyond the city, the majority of the island was filled with a tropical rainforest. Its climate was warm and wet, and it rained daily for an hour, providing the island with its fresh water supply. Animal life was abundant in the rainforest, from colorful toucans, macaws, and other birds to reptiles, monkeys, and large cats. Frogs, numerous insects, sloths, and bears, along with exotic hybrids, were among many of the other species. Several rivers ran through the island, teeming with fish and other water animals.
The city on the bay was a hub for entertainment, with clubs, shops, hotels, and restaurants catering to visitors from Totto Land and beyond. While not a Tri-Log Pose destination, eternal log poses were handed out to anyone who docked. Because of this, the tourist trade thrived and the city grew.
The streets were narrow and ran at crazy angles, and the buildings were tall. There were people everywhere, crowding the streets, going about their business. The noise of conversation and music spilling from doorways made it difficult to hear without shouting. The Thousand Sunny docked at Damona Bay on a bright, hot morning after two weeks of sailing. The Straw Hat crew was traveling randomly through the latter half of the Grand Line to find more information on the last Road Poneglyph. While Luffy was keen to locate the One Piece, he also loved adventure and it worked out not to follow the Tri-Log Pose in search of both.
Zoro walked a step behind Jinbe and Franky, taking in the sights around him as they headed further into the city. The three of them were going to the bar first, where Zoro planned to remain in the quieter atmosphere and drink the days away. Nami had doled out money to everyone when they’d disembarked. The Straw Hats had rescued a minor noble at the previous island, between Wano and Damona Bay, and they had been rewarded handsomely. Zoro even had leftover money after he’d paid off his debt. Nami indicated that as long as Luffy didn’t start a revolution, they’d stay for at least three days.
Zoro rested his arm on the hilts of his katanas, secured to his waist by a belt. He wore his usual black trousers with a short sleeved blue shirt, unbuttoned, in deference to the heat. His gaze flitted from the crowd to the storefronts to the narrow alleys in between. They didn’t go to large cities often. The number of people packed into the space made Zoro extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t fond of people as it was, and now there were way too many of them.
A storefront selling swords caught his eye as they passed, and Zoro slowed his step. He was happy with his three swords, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the craftsmanship of others. There was a nice one on display with a filigree engraved blade that gleamed almost blue in the morning sunlight. The craftsman did an excellent job on it.
Someone jostled his shoulder, bringing his attention back in front of him, to find that Jinbe and Franky had disappeared. Shit. Zoro stopped walking and looked around. Neither should be hard to miss, standing heads above everyone else, but Zoro couldn’t see them. The streets went off in different directions from where he stood and they could’ve veered off at any point, to disappear from view beyond the tall buildings.
Zoro sighed. He was going to have to find his own place to drink now. He continued on, weaving through the crowd of tourists and locals, getting jostled, the noise irritating his ears. Someone bumped into him, harder than the last time, and Zoro’s observation haki warned him that it hadn’t been an accident. Shit.
“Oi!” Zoro shouted, as his money was lifted from his pocket. The sneak thief bolted. Zoro gave chase. He wasn’t about to lose his drinking money!
Shops, restaurants, and hotel entrances flashed past Zoro’s vision as he ran after the thief. He didn’t dare remove his eye from his target, lest the teen disappear down one of the many side streets. Zoro felt like they ran through the entire city, dodging people, jumping over carts and crates, trying not to crash into anyone or anything.
Zoro finally caught the thief when a large delivery wagon blocked the alley the thief had darted down. “Hand it over,” Zoro demanded, looming angrily above the teen. Zoro was hot, sweaty, thirsty, and no longer in a forgiving mood.
The thief gave over Zoro’s money before bolting back the direction they’d come. Zoro tucked the folded wad back into his pocket, pulled his bandana from around his bicep, and wiped off his face. The delivery wagon moved on. After retying his bandana into place, Zoro continued in the new direction, hoping to find a bar. All he wanted to do was sit down out of the heat and drink.
Twenty minutes later, he found himself outside the city at the edge of the rainforest.
“Damn it.” Zoro squinted into the darkened forest, hearing the chatter of monkeys in the nearby trees. He could see long-tailed macaques grooming each other and hopping from branch to branch. One jumped down and landed on his shoulder, surprising him. He gave it a stink-eye. In retaliation, the macaque stole his earring. Shit.
Hooting, the macaque launched itself off Zoro’s shoulder into the rainforest. Zoro took off after it, the other monkeys screaming and hollering in excitement. Kapok trees, cacao trees, and rubber trees created a dense canopy over the understory and groundlayer. Orchids and passionflower twined among the trees. Mosses, ferns, and fungi grew at ground level. Zoro dodged fallen branches, his boots crunching on dead leaves and deteriorating plants. The macaque jumped from tree to tree to tree, the branches shaking, giving Zoro its whereabouts. A flock of small, colorful birds took flight as the macaque landed amongst their roost.
Zoro drew Wado as he darted around another kapok tree. He pulled on his focus, trying to predict which tree the monkey would land on next. His brain slowed even as he ran faster. It showed him the macaque’s path. Zoro slashed with Wado through the air and a slice of energy flew from its blade. It hit the target tree branch just as the macaque was about to land on it.
The macaque squawked and dropped Zoro’s earring as it flung itself to safety. Zoro caught the glint of gold as it tumbled into the detritus. The macaque scrambled off and Zoro retrieved his earring. He used his shirt tail to wipe it off, slid it back into his earlobe, and looked around. He saw nothing but rainforest in all directions. He had no idea where he was anymore. Shit.
With a sigh, Zoro picked a random direction and started walking. His crewmates always blamed him for getting lost, but this time it was the monkey’s fault. He doubted he’d be believed, though. He didn’t know why he had such a hard time finding his way. It had started when he was a kid, after he’d bashed his head open on a broken stone pillar. He’d spent a majority of his life not knowing where he was going or how to get back. There were days when he was afraid he’d lose his nakama forever, not that he ever told any of them.
But he was on an island, and either he’d eventually find his way back to the city or someone would find him. He’d be expected back at the Sunny in three days. Someone would come looking if he didn’t show up. Not that he wanted to spend three days in the rainforest. The air was hot and humid, and his shirt clung stickily to his back. He could hear other animals rooting about in the branches of the trees. At least it was quieter than it had been in the city and there were no people crowding him, Zoro had to give it that.
He walked for a while, mind drifting from what he wanted to drink, to grumbling about being hungry, to wondering what his nakama were up to in town. He hadn’t paid much attention to the others when they’d disembarked, once Jinbe and Franky had mentioned hitting a bar. He’d found over time the less he knew, the less likely he’d get dragged into pack mule service. He didn’t mind carting things around every once in a while, but it got old, fast.
Zoro was surprised when he saw sunlight up ahead. The dense canopy kept the rainforest heavily shaded. He continued in that direction and walked out into a clearing. It didn’t appear to be a natural clearing, with uprooted trees and torn up ground spanning the length of it. Zoro walked into the clearing, wrinkling his nose. It smelled like the men’s toilet after Sanji made spicy chili. There were mounds of mud with flies swarming around them. The ground looked trampled upon.
Zoro caught sight of something toward the center, a fuzzy-gray mound that rose higher than the others. He headed that direction, curious. The sun beat down upon the clearing from a clear blue sky. A dark bird with large wings circled way overhead.
Zoro’s observation haki alerted him to the danger as the fuzzy-gray mound suddenly snorted and rose from a mudhole it had been lying in. The fuzzy-gray mound rose up and up until it towered over Zoro, casting an enormous shadow. The mound became an animal, twice the size of an elephant, with gray fur, a row of horns up its snout, and giant hooved feet.
For the fifth time that day, Zoro thought, Shit.
The animal bellowed, the stench of its breath nearly knocking Zoro off his feet. It was partially coated in slick mud, trying to keep cool. Its front-facing eyes locked onto Zoro and the animal charged.
Zoro leapt out of its path, caught his heel in the mud, and skid several feet before he managed to stop. He drew two katanas and spun to face the animal. The animal had ended its charge partway across the clearing. It lumbered around, snorting and stomping. It spotted Zoro, bellowed once more, and charged.
Zoro was ready for it. He set his stance. The animal thundered closer, its horns lowered, its massive body powering down on Zoro. Zoro raised his arms, centering himself, preparing to end this in one strike.
He was not prepared to be tackled from above, sending him flying away from the rampaging animal and causing him to land with a splat in a giant mound of steaming, fly-invested mud. At least, he hoped it was mud.
Zoro stared up at his assailant in anger. “What the fuck?”
“Shh.” Sanji hissed, keeping him pinned in the mud. It had better be mud. Sanji was lying atop of him, strong legs trapping Zoro to the ground.
“Don’t you shh me, you piece of shit. Why the hell did you tackle me?” Zoro snapped.
Sanji slapped a hand over his mouth and hissed again, “Shut. Up.” His visible eye bore into Zoro’s with intent to keep Zoro silent.
Zoro was going to bite Sanji’s hand, but then he heard the animal’s heavy footsteps. It seemed to be searching for them. Zoro settled for the moment, glaring at Sanji. He didn’t know why Sanji had stopped him from defeating the creature, but he’d damned well better have a good reason.
Sanji glanced back over his shoulder, otherwise unmoving. Zoro saw a shadow brush past their hiding spot. The stench of the mud around them was starting to make Zoro’s eye water. A fly landed on his forehead.
The animal lumbered on, made a snuffling sound, which was repeated by a softer, higher-pitched one. Heavy footsteps headed away from them.
Sanji relaxed slightly. “Sounds like they’re moving off.”
“Dmm?” Zoro said against Sanji’s palm with an arch of his brow.
“Yes, they, dumbshit.” Sanji removed his hand from over Zoro’s mouth, still speaking in a low tone. “That was a mother with her baby.”
“Oh.” Zoro’s heart crashed. He suddenly felt terrible. He’d almost taken a mother away from someone. “I didn’t see the kid.”
“I saw it from above. It was in the mudhole.” Sanji shifted to his knees and cautiously peered over the mound of mud that likely wasn’t mud. “They’re on the far side of the clearing. Should be good to leave.”
Zoro took the opportunity to shove Sanji sideways, off him – hard – into the not mud. Sanji sank up to his shoulder into the mound, his arm having flown out to catch himself. The glare Zoro received promised payback. Zoro’s entire back was coated in grossness because of Sanji, so Sanji could stuff it. He sat up with a squelch. Some of it felt like it had gone down the back of his trousers.
Zoro checked before getting up. He could see the giant animal – and now its kid – on the far side of the clearing uprooting a tree. He pushed to his feet, wiped his katanas on the front of his trousers where it was still somewhat clean, and slid them into their sheathes. He was going to have to clean them thoroughly once he got back to the ship.
Sanji drew his arm out and rose to his feet. One half of his body was covered in shit – Zoro didn’t bother to think it was anything else now – as were his legs from the knees down. His feet and ankles were sunk into the manure mound. Zoro was glad to be wearing boots. Sanji probably had shit inside his shoes.
Zoro debated on shoving Sanji face-first into the shit pile but he didn’t want to draw the attention of the animal again. Instead, he headed in the direction of the jungle, away from the animals. Sanji grumbled under his breath as he caught up with Zoro. “You’re going the wrong way, idiot.”
“I’m going out of the clearing, aho cook. You can lead us once we get there,” Zoro groused. The stench of shit accompanied them as they entered the rainforest. The dense canopy blocked the sun, but the humidity jumped, making everything feel hotter.
Zoro didn’t question how Sanji found him. Sanji had exceptional observation haki and the ability to Sky Walk. Though the island was large, Zoro was probably the only idiot wandering around in the rainforest. Still, Zoro could’ve been in the city. “How’d you know I was out here?” he asked, once they were away from the clearing.
“Asked around about a green-haired idiot with three swords until someone mentioned you chasing a macaque into the rainforest,” Sanji replied. Zoro figured there was more to it than that, but he got the idea. Sanji wiped his shit-covered hand on his trousers with a grimace. “Trust you to find yourself in a heap of shit.”
“You were the one who tackled me into it,” Zoro said with irritation. “You could’ve just shouted something.”
“Didn’t know if you could hear me,” Sanji told him. “I was pretty high up.”
Zoro supposed that was a good enough reason. “How far are we from the city?”
“Several hours.” Sanji shot him an annoyed look. “I swear you do this on purpose to ruin my life.”
“Screw you.” Zoro went to slam his fist into Sanji’s shoulder, but Sanji jumped out of reach. “You didn’t have to come and find me.”
“It’s a good thing I did, because you were about to end that mother’s life.”
Zoro felt like he’d been slapped. His shoulders drew in. His heart hurt over what he’d almost done. He fell into step beside Sanji without another word.
Sanji seemed to know where he was going. Birds sang to each other. Frogs made high-pitched sounds. A sloth watched them lazily from a branch. A snake slithered past their feet. The hum of insects was prevalent as flies were drawn to the smell of shit wafting from their bodies.
The river, when they came upon it, was a godsend. It spanned a good distance and looked deep in the middle. Fish swam near the edges of the muddy shore. Sanji pulled his cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt, his lighter from his trousers, and set both on the shore. Then, he walked directly into the river, clothes and all.
Zoro removed his katanas from his belt and knelt beside the water. He washed his hands off first, then pulled his bandana from around his bicep. He washed it out then used it to clean the shit from his katanas. It would have to do until he could give them proper care.
Zoro glanced up. Sanji had disappeared from sight. “Oi, cook,” Zoro called, searching the riverbank. The water was moving, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of someone coming onto the bank. He stood with a frown, staring at the water. Trepidation tightened his gut.
Zoro picked up Kitetsu and drew the blade from its sheath. Leaving the sheath and his other katanas on the shore, Zoro waded into the river, eyes searching for Sanji. Dappled sunlight sparkled on the surface where it broke through the arching canopy overhead. The water darkened where he walked, his boots kicking up mud, the shit sluicing from his clothes. “Cook!” he called, louder now, a worried edge to his voice.
He was going to have to go under. Zoro took a deep breath and dove. He swam away from the cloud of dirt, into more clear water. Visibility was good in the river and the fresh water didn’t sting his eyes. He saw that the river deepened. Seaweed and sea plants rose from the depths like tentacles. And ensnared among them, struggling and being dragged down by something, was Sanji.
Zoro swam as fast as he could, churning through the water, Kitetsu clutched in his grip. He didn’t know how long Sanji had been beneath the surface. Sanji could be running out of air. Whatever had snagged him must be strong, or had him trapped somehow. Sanji’s fire leg wouldn’t work underwater unless he was able to move.
Zoro’s body cut through the river, over the seaweed and sea plants, until he reached where Sanji was being drowned. Sanji’s hair floated above him, his struggles growing weaker. Zoro dove straight down in front of Sanji and, in the dimming light, saw that an enormous green anaconda had wrapped itself around Sanji’s legs. It was dragging Sanji to his death at the bottom of the river.
Zoro didn’t hesitate. He pressed his sword against the anaconda’s body beneath Sanji’s feet and sliced it clean through. Blood spurted into the water. The part that had been wrapped around Sanji loosened immediately, but Sanji was hanging limply in the water. Shit. Zoro grabbed Sanji around the waist and fought his way to the surface. The water started to churn around them. What seemed like thousands of small fish with sharp teeth suddenly descended upon them. Zoro got bitten in several places as he reached the surface. He gasped for breath, then began side-stroking for shore. The piranha left him and Sanji alone for the easier prey of the sliced anaconda.
The bank seemed to get farther away with every stroke, but Zoro managed to finally reach it. He dragged Sanji onto the bank, turned Sanji onto his side, and pounded a fist hard into the middle of Sanji’s back. Fear snarled his gut. Sanji’s exoskeleton might make it impossible for Zoro to revive him. “C’mon, cook. Don’t you dare go out like this.”
Sanji vomited water a second later and began wheezing. Zoro slumped in relief. He rested his hand on Sanji’s wet shoulder. “Easy. You’re okay.”
“I hate you,” Sanji muttered, coughing up more water.
“Heh.” With those words, Zoro knew Sanji was fine.
Sanij sat up a few seconds later. Mud from the bank smeared his jaw and cheek. He dragged his hand through his wet hair, slicking it back away from both his eyes. The mismatched eyebrows were on full display as he glared balefully at Zoro. His eyes suddenly widened at the same time as Zoro alerted to new danger and Sanji yanked him to the ground just as a jaguar sprang at them.
The jaguar sailed overhead, missing its prey. “This day gets better and better,” Sanji snarled, vaulting to his feet. He met the jaguar head-on in a mess of animal snarls and thrown insults. Before Zoro even had the chance to stand up, the jaguar was fleeing into the rainforest and Sanji was wiping his hands off on his trousers.
Sanji walked down to the bank, located his cigarettes, drew one out and lit it. He inhaled slowly, held it, then blew the smoke out in an irritated huff. His wet clothing clung to him, the blue and black pinstripe shirt he wore, open at the collar, highlighting every ridge and muscle. His wet trousers were plastered to his muscular legs. Zoro always forgot how strong Sanji really was, hidden beneath his fancy shirts and suits. His musculature was on display now, and it caused Zoro’s stomach to clench with arousal. He felt himself harden beneath his wet trousers.
The arousal thing was new to Zoro. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. It had started over a month ago, after they’d left Wano. He’d caught Sanji changing clothes in the men’s quarters, nothing unusual, but this time it caused Zoro to lose his breath. The lamplight had highlighted Sanji’s powerful musculature in his upper body, the broad shoulders, defined pecs and arms, and ripped abs. Sanji wasn’t as big as Zoro, but his build reflected the amount of time he spent doing acrobatics and fighting while standing on his hands.
Something about the way Sanji stood was different, too. There was a quiet confidence in his posture that hadn’t been there in the past, as if he’d finally come to accept himself. Zoro felt drawn to Sanji like he’d never felt drawn before. It was scary. Thrilling. Nerve-wracking. Zoro wanted to touch Sanji in a way that was very different from their fighting.
Zoro knew about sex. He wasn’t stupid, despite what people said about him. He simply wasn’t interested in it. It seemed messy, uncontrollable. Plus, he’d have to deal with the emotions related to it and that terrified him. He got hard-ons like every other guy and he took care of it himself. He’d found a few guys good-looking over the years but nothing that made him want to get to know them and do anything about it. Until Sanji, after Wano, had caused him to ache.
Sanji took another drag on his cigarette. His profile outlined his strong jaw and sharp nose. His goatee and mustache were well groomed. Even with his hair slicked back, revealing both eyebrows, he looked good to Zoro. It was weird to find Sanji attractive after all this time they’d spent together. Then again, he knew Sanji, trusted him, was comfortable around him even though they fought a lot. The thought of doing the things he wanted to try with Sanji with a stranger made Zoro’s skin crawl. He didn’t want to be vulnerable like that with anyone else.
Sanji stabbed out the butt of his cigarette against the sole of his shoe, tucked it into his cigarette pack, and looked over at Zoro. Zoro quickly raised his knees from his seated position, hiding the erection that was clearly visible in his wet trousers. Sanji liked girls, and Zoro didn’t want to face the possibility of being made fun of because he’d gotten a hard-on.
Sanji’s brow furrowed. “You hurt or something, marimo?”
“No.” Zoro hated that his voice squeaked a little. He cleared his throat. “Just waiting for you to lead on.”
“Hn.” Sanji stared at him a beat longer before looking around them. “We’ll have to cross this river. I’ll Sky Walk us over it.”
“Okay.”
Sanji toed off his shoes, crouched and dunked them both in the river several times. He gave his socks the same treatment before putting both back on. It gave Zoro enough time to will his erection away and he was able to stand. Zoro gathered his katanas and hooked them onto his belt. Sanji checked his shirt and trousers, but both had been washed clean enough by the dunk in the river. “If this shirt is ruined, you–”
Sanji’s words cut off as a loud buzzing rose up behind them, causing them both to turn. A plague of flying insects was bearing down on them. It looked like a black, undulating cloud of tiny insects with multiple wings and long proboscises. The insects swarmed right for them.
Sanji screamed and bolted into the rainforest. A portion of the insects arrowed after him. The rest swarmed around Zoro, landing on him, biting him, tickling his nose and ears. Zoro shut his eye tightly as insects crawled over every inch of him. He walked forward into the river until he felt it lap above his boots, turned, and fell backward into the water. He let himself sink below the surface in the shallows, lying on the bottom as if it were a bed. A few inches of water was between him and the surface, enough to cause the insects to get off him. He would prefer biting fish to biting insects.
Zoro watched from underwater as the swarm flew circles overhead. No piranha came to nibble on him, apparently having been satisfied with their snake meal. Zoro waited, wondering how far Sanji had gotten and if Zoro was going to be able to find him again. The insects eventually flew off.
Zoro sat up, wiped the water off his face, and sighed. He was getting tired of this rainforest. He got to his feet, checked that his katanas were all right, and sloshed out of the river. “Cook, can you hear me?” he called with a raised voice. He didn’t hear any response.
Zoro knew the direction Sanji had run off in and he headed that way. He was gratified to find the path easy to follow. Broken branches, crushed plants, and a Sanji-shaped hole in a bush led Zoro directly to him. He located Sanji partway up a cacao tree, clinging to the trunk, face pale and terrified. The swarm was gone – Sanji had likely outrun it – but at the base of the tree was a giant beetle with pincers snapping in Sanji’s direction.
“What is it with you and bugs?” Zoro asked as he drew his blade. He stabbed the beetle through the head and flicked it into the rainforest. “Do they all need to have tits in order for you to face them?”
Sanji’s expression darkened at the jab about Black Maria. “She wasn’t a bug. She was a zoan.”
Zoro wiped his blade on his wet trousers and slid it back into its sheath. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re afraid of them.”
Sanji let go of the tree and landed nimbly on the ground. He gave Zoro his crushed cigarette pack and lighter, then brushed off the front of his wet shirt and tugged at the sleeves. Zoro recognized the need for Sanji to get himself pulled together again. He finally took the cigarettes and lighter back from Zoro and crammed them into the damp breast pocket of his shirt before releasing an audible sigh.
“I promised myself that I would be honest about things if anyone asked, even if that anyone was you,” Sanji said. His damp hair had half fallen over one of his eyes again. “Bugs used to crawl on my face when I was a kid and I couldn’t get them off.”
“Why not?” Zoro got bugs on his face all the time, when he was napping on the deck. He just swatted them away.
Sanji leaned back against the tree trunk. His tone was flat when he spoke. “Vinsmoke Judge locked me in an iron mask and tossed me in a dungeon so he could pretend that I was dead. Spent at least six months like that. Bugs would crawl into my mask almost every night. Some would stay for days, crawling around in my hair or in my ears. Sometimes they’d go over my lips or into my nose. Developed a phobia about them, and having anything fully over my head.”
Zoro stared at Sanji with horror as his words sunk in. “I thought you were a Prince.”
Sanji shrugged. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”
When Zoro had first learned that Sanji was a real Prince, Zoro was surprised. He’d always thought of Princes as soft and entitled. Sanji was a jackass with a foul mouth who was not afraid to get bloody. His clothing choice was the only thing that seemed elevated. The rest of him was in the dirt with everyone else. But even then, he thought Sanji had been treated like royalty, not like a prisoner. “How old were you,” Zoro asked, “when he did that to you?”
“Seven, going on eight,” Sanji replied. He didn’t seem upset about it, only factual.
But Zoro was upset about it. More than. Fury and protectiveness welled up in his chest and he wanted to tear things apart with his bare hands. Instead, he grabbed Sanji abruptly and hugged him – hard – and then shoved him away again. He tried to regain control of his raging emotions. Anger he understood. Anger he could deal with. “How can you be so fucking calm about this?” he said.
“Luffy was going to give up the One Piece and die for me, my mother did die for me, and I got my head out of my ass,” Sanji told him. “When you think you’re going to be the monster in your nightmares and you end up with a reprieve, life shifts into perspective.”
Zoro recalled Sanji calling him during his fight with King, about turning into a monster, and how later Sanji had told him that everything would be okay. He hadn’t known about Luffy, or Sanji’s mom. Zoro’s respect for Luffy grew for putting Sanji above his dreams. Zoro had done the same for Luffy, and Sanji, back when they’d first met Barhtolomew Kuma.
Sanji brushed his hair out of his face with his fingers. The dampness caused it to stay back again, revealing both eyes and mismatched eyebrows. “My past is just that: my past. It can’t hurt me unless I allow it. One day, I’ll get over my phobias. But it’s not going to be in the middle of this damned rainforest that seems to be out to get us.”
“Heh.” Zoro felt his chest lighten. The rainforest did seem to be throwing things at them left and right.
“Can we go now? Or do you want to hug me again?” Sanji asked with a smirk.
Zoro’s cheeks heated. “Shut up. I’m allowed to care.”
Sanji’s smirk only grew. “Does Wittle Zowo wike Sanji?” he cooed.
“Fuck off.” Zoro’s entire face felt like it was in flames. It didn’t help that Sanji was right.
Sanji chuckled and pushed off the tree. His hair fell back over his eye again. “C’mon, marimo. I want a shower and a stiff drink.”
A beat later, the sky opened up on them.
Sanji tilted his head back to look up toward the canopy. The daily downpour punched through the treetops to drown them. Rain pelted Sanji’s upturned face and Zoro’s head. Sanji laughed, a bright, true sound that rang clearly. “Of course, it starts raining now.”
A laugh bubbled from Zoro, as well. It really was ridiculous. “At least we were already wet.”
Sanji grinned at him and slicked his hair back again. Zoro was starting to like being able to see both of Sanji’s eyes, which were crinkled in the corners. And his smile made Zoro’s insides tingle. Zoro felt himself smiling back.
Sanji blinked at Zoro and Zoro heard his breath catch. Water droplets clung to his eyelashes and ran down his face. His smile faded. He brought a hand up and fiddled with a button beneath his open collar. Zoro’s gaze dropped to the fiddling, causing him to stare at Sanji’s chest. The rain beat down upon them, soaking them. Sanji’s blue and black pinstripe shirt was plastered to his muscles. A surge of arousal washed over Zoro again.
Sanji made a sound in the back of his throat, causing Zoro’s eye to lift. Sanji’s focus wasn’t on Zoro’s face, but lower, much lower. Zoro knew immediately that Sanji was staring at the hardness growing in Zoro’s wet trousers. It made Zoro get harder, faster. The wet material tented from his groin.
Embarrassment slid around Zoro and he covered himself with his hands, even though it was too late. He tried to find something to say that would excuse the fact that he’d gotten hard while looking at Sanji’s chest. Some lie to hide himself. He felt tongue-tied and awkward. He wanted a sinkhole to open up beneath his feet.
Zoro froze when he saw Sanji lift his hand. He wondered if Sanji was going to hit him. Was he that disgusted that he would use his hands against Zoro?
What Zoro did not expect was for Sanji to slowly reach out and lay his palm against Zoro’s bare chest between the open placket of his shirt. The rain ran around his fingers. Zoro’s heart hammered beneath Sanji’s hand. He was certain that Sanji could feel it. He felt his face heat again. Sanji had never touched him before, not like this.
Zoro finally found his voice, but it came out as a wistful whisper. “What are you doing?”
“Probably making a mistake,” Sanji murmured before sliding his hand up Zoro’s wet chest, around his neck, and pressing their lips together.
Zoro’s heart slammed hard against his breastbone. He thought it might burst from his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath of air and blinked blurrily as he stared at Sanji in shock. Sanji was kissing him. Zoro felt it all the way to his toes. His hands spasmed where they were clasped in front of him. A tremor ran up his spine. Sanji was kissing him.
Sanji drew back, coming into Zoro’s focus, and opened his eyes. Rain slid down his cheeks and over his nose. With his hair slicked back, Zoro could see vulnerability clearly in his expression. Sanji studied Zoro’s face warily, as if looking for something bad. Zoro was still stunned by the kiss. He licked his lips and rubbed them together. He could still feel the kiss lingering on them.
Sanji made another soft sound in his throat, his expression cleared, and he brought his mouth to Zoro’s again. Zoro made a sound, too, this time, a sort-of whine that he would be embarrassed about if he wasn’t caught up in the fact that Sanji was kissing him again. His entire body shook and he desperately wanted to do something with his hands, but all he could do was clench them together even tighter.
Sanji’s lips were firm against his, moving gently, and Zoro felt the slick slip of a tongue against his lower lip. It caused him to whine again as desire licked a flame right to his groin. The physical feelings were nearly overwhelming. He hadn’t realized that this was what he’d been missing out on. If it were anybody but Sanji kissing him, though, he probably would have freaked out by now and fled from the lack of control he felt and the emotional upheaval roiling inside him. But it was Sanji, and he trusted Sanji to always have his back, even in this.
Zoro’s lips parted of their own volition. He felt the brush of Sanji’s tongue against his own. Zoro’s breath caught at the new sensation, arousal increasing tenfold. Sanji’s tongue brushed against his again and Zoro chased it with his own. Apparently, it was the right thing to do, as Sanji hummed in the back of his throat, angled his head, and kissed him deeper. Their tongues slid against each other’s, Sanji’s mouth moving back and forth against Zoro’s, pulling briefly away before returning to kiss him some more. Every one of Zoro’s nerve-endings felt electrified.
The rain continued to fall on them, adding into the kiss. The sound of the downpour shrouded them from the outside world. Zoro couldn’t remember anything that had felt this right. It was still scary – terrifying, actually – but in an exciting way, and he wanted more but he didn’t know what that meant. All he knew was that Sanji was kissing him and Zoro never wanted it to end.
Sanji drew back again and rubbed his own lips together. He focused on Zoro with a questioning gaze. “Have you kissed anyone before?”
“No,” Zoro admitted, still feeling like he was going to burst from desire. “You’re my first.”
“Okay.” Sanji inhaled a shaky breath, his fingers flexing on the back of Zoro’s neck. “Okay.”
A fission of worry tightened Zoro’s gut. “Is that bad?”
“No, marimo,” Sanji reassured him quickly. “It’s not unexpected, now that I think about it.”
Zoro’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never shown any interest in anyone,” Sanji said, his other hand coming up to smooth Zoro’s wet collar almost absently.
The rain carved water trails down Sanji’s neck to run along his collarbone and dip beneath the open neck of his shirt. Zoro wanted to chase the raindrops with his fingers, but his hands were still clamped together in front of him. “Haven’t been, until recently.” Zoro wasn’t going to lie about it, not now. “Until you changed, after Wano.”
Sanji’s expression tightened. “My genetic modifications turned you on?”
“No,” Zoro said swiftly, quashing that idea. “Fuck no. What the hell? Why would you think that?”
“It’s what changed on Wano.” Sanji pulled his hands away. Zoro felt the loss immediately.
“It had nothing to do with that,” Zoro told him. “You just seem like you know who you are now.”
“Oh.” Sanji lost his angry edge. He dragged his hand over his wet face and then up over his wet hair. Rain continued to pour around them.
Zoro folded his arms across his chest, feeling self-conscious now that the mood had broken. He didn’t like that his emotions felt all over the place, too. He knew if couldn’t get a grip he’d probably get overwhelmed by them. He knew the signs. He was also still hard, but that would go away if he ignored it. “What now?”
A corner of Sanji’s mouth curved crookedly. “Now, I dig my foot out of my mouth and let you know that I don’t go around kissing men at random.”
“I didn’t think you kissed guys at all,” Zoro said, rubbing his chin against his wet shoulder as the rain running down his jawline made it itch.
“Not often,” Sanji admitted. He leaned against the tree again and patted his pocket like he wanted to smoke. The rain made it futile. “Haven’t since Kamabakka, and before that Arabasta.”
Zoro’s mind turned over the information. Sanji had been with other men. Kissed them. Maybe more. “Did you, um, do other things?”
Sanji looked at him amusedly. “Yes, marimo. I’ve done other things.”
Zoro’s hard-on, which had been deflating, returned with a vengeance. He dropped his arms to cover his groin with his hands again. “Oh.”
Sanji laughed softly, reached out, and tugged Zoro closer to him by the shirt. “Best mistake ever,” he said, and kissed Zoro again.
Zoro’s brain stuttered with confusion before the physical effects took over. Sanji was kissing him again. It was awesome. Zoro melted into the kiss this time, knowing what to expect. He tried moving his mouth against Sanji’s like Sanji had, which earned him a “Sweet marimo” before Sanji demonstrated how it was done. Their tongues slid against each other again and the sensation made Zoro’s erection twitch and ache. He tentatively placed his hands on Sanji’s waist, feeling the solid muscle beneath the wet material of the shirt.
Sanji pressed against him, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. The pressure of Sanji’s body against his groin caused Zoro to jerk, his fingers tightening around Sanji’s waist. Sanji broke the kiss, rested his forehead against Zoro’s, and snaked a hand down between their bodies. Zoro felt Sanji’s hand grasp his erection right through his trousers and a jolt of electricity shot through Zoro. His balls lifted, his brain whited out, and he was coming hard.
When coherent thought returned, he felt Sanji mouthing kisses along his jawline and something hard digging against his hip where Sanji pressed against him. Zoro opened his eye. Sanji drew back to look at him with a slow smile. “Feel better?”
Zoro nodded dumbly. He’d come in his pants from barely being touched. And he still felt aroused. “Um, what about you?”
“I’m going to wait until I have you behind a locked door of a hotel room,” Sanji nipped at Zoro’s lips, “and then I’m going to have all of you.”
The rumble of Sanji’s voice, the confidence behind it, and the titillating promise caused Zoro to buck against Sanji’s hip and spill a little more. “Fuck.”
Sanji chuckled low with a carnal edge. “That’s the idea.”
Zoro grabbed Sanji by the wrist, feeling wild. He couldn’t identify the emotion currently driving him. Lust, maybe? Was this what it felt like? He didn’t know if he wanted to do sex-things with Sanji already, but he definitely wanted to touch him without clothes on. He began dragging Sanji in a random direction, which earned a laugh. “It’s probably smarter if I lead,” Sanji said.
Zoro grunted in affirmation and released Sanji’s wrist. Sanji smiled at him again, the corners of both his visible eyes crinkling. “Stick close, love moss.”
Sanji led them through the pouring rain to the now raging river, where he was quick to Sky Walk them across. Everything looked the same to Zoro, but Sanji seemed to know exactly where he was going. The rain eventually stopped, leaving them drenched, and the humidity shot up. The stick heat from before felt even worse with wet clothes.
A bird attempted to peck Zoro’s head and a bear growled at them but didn’t engage. They managed to make it back to the city in a few hours without any more scrapes. Their clothing had dried, including the cum on the inside of Zoro’s trousers. Zoro gave the macaques a spiteful glare as they passed a tree full of them. The macaques hooted and flung poop in his direction in response.
Zoro’d had enough shit for the day and he dodged before it hit. They crossed from the rainforest onto the city streets. Immediately, the noise and the crowd felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable to Zoro. It was late afternoon. Locals were getting off of work, families were going for an early dinner. Sanji latched onto Zoro’s hand, which instantly made Zoro’s heart race, even though Sanji was doing it to prevent Zoro from getting lost.
Sanji led the way down the warren of crazy streets and alleys until he reached a strip of hotels and nightclubs closer to the bay. He picked a hotel that had a pink and white awning, no doorman, and a discreet sign that proclaimed they catered to all with a variety of symbols under it. Zoro wondered about that, but he didn’t want to feel stupid for asking.
The lobby was done in reds, pinks, and whites. A service counter lined one wall, and a sitting area filled the rest of the room. Flowers in pots and on paintings added to the decor. Sanji was still holding Zoro’s hand when he approached the counter, where a young woman stood wearing a navy uniform and a nametag.
Sanji’s eyes turned to hearts, but they popped almost immediately. “Hello, we’d like a room, please. Two nights,” he told her.
“Of course, sirs.” The young woman began paging through a book. “Would you like a regular room or a jacuzzi suite?”
Zoro’s mind was fixated on the fact that Sanji had told the woman two nights. That meant they possibly weren’t leaving a room with a bed in it until the day after tomorrow. Panic and arousal attempted to choke him at the same time. This was moving awfully fast.
“Jacuzzi,” Sanji replied, taking out his money. “Do you have a laundry service?”
“Of course, sir,” the woman said. “The den den mushi in your room will connect you to all of our services. You will find a list by the snail.”
Sanji exchanged money for a key. Zoro fought against the urge to draw his katana on Sanji and then run out the door. “Thank you,” Sanji told the woman. “May the rest of your shift be as lovely as you are.”
She smiled at Sanji, and Sanji turned away. “C’mon, marimo,” he said, dragging Zoro toward the lift.
The lift was powered by pulleys and bubbles, and it sent them swiftly upwards to a higher floor in the tall building. Zoro was led by his hand from the lift down a beige corridor with floral wallpaper and neutral tile. His gut churned the closer they got to their assigned room.
“This is us,” Sanji said, stopping in front of a black door with a gold number on it. He used the key to unlock it and yanked Zoro into the room. The door slammed shut behind them like a death knell.
The room beyond the doorway was divided in three sections, with privacy panels built in between. Directly in front of them was a living area, with a pink sofa and coffee table set in front of an unlit fireplace, soft blue carpeting, a small bar and a refrigerator. A den den mushi and a music radio sat on a desk beneath a curtained window that let afternoon sunlight peek through. Through the first set of privacy panels was a bedroom with a king sized bed, wardrobe, a dressing table, and twin night stands with hurricane lamps on both. The second set of privacy panels led to a large bathroom with a multi-person tub that had jets, a shower, a sink with a mirror above it, and a separate water closet. Complimentary toiletries sat on the wide sink.
Sanji dragged Zoro further into the room, looking around him with a grin. “This is nicer than I thought it would be.”
“Uh-huh.” Zoro wondered if it was too late to run away.
Sanji rounded on Zoro, finally dropped his hand, but then wrapped his arms around Zoro’s neck. “Now, where were we?”
Zoro froze. His stomach knotted. The arousal from before had gone away. He wasn’t ready for this. Fear started to choke him. He wanted to lash out, bite Sanji’s head off, be cruel.
Sanji paused, his brow furrowing over his nose. “You look pale all of a sudden.”
“Um…” Zoro’s gaze darted around the room, looking at anything but Sanji. Sanji was going to be disappointed in him. Emotional anxiety tried to sink its claws in Zoro. This might be over before it really started.
“Zoro.” Sanji took a step back, releasing him. “Look at me.”
Zoro took a fortifying breath before focusing on Sanji. “Yeah?” he croaked.
Sanji watched him carefully. “Are you changing your mind?”
“What? No…” Zoro’s hand clenched and unclenched around one of the hilts of his katanas. He wanted to draw it and strike at Sanji. “Just… don’t you think this is going too fast?”
Sanji’s posture relaxed. “Shit. Sorry, marimo. I forgot that this was new to you.”
Zoro’s brow climbed. “Since when do you apologize to me?”
“Since I was letting the wrong head dictate my actions.” Sanji shot Zoro a self-deprecating half-smile. “But I’m not the type of man who’d let my own needs override that of my partner’s.”
“So… we’re not going to do sex-things?” Zoro hated that his voice had a hopeful note to it. He hadn’t wanted to reveal his fear-related panic and emotional anxiety. It shamed him. Luckily, it had not built into a self-destructive defense. When that happened, Zoro got trapped inside himself and he forced everyone away from him, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.
“No, not right now,” Sanji assured him. “Not until you want to. I can wait.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
Sanji’s smile was genuine and fond. “No. I’m rejected on a daily basis by women. I have tougher skin than that.”
The knot of tension unraveled between Zoro’s shoulder blades, but he still felt he needed to explain. “I’m not rejecting you. I’m just not…,” he struggled to find the words, “...not there yet?”
Sanji’s smile grew. “Don’t worry your pretty head, love moss. I know what you’re saying.” He clapped his hands and looked around the room again. “We both need a shower and clean clothes. Why don’t you find out what’s in the bar and I’ll see if I can scrounge us up some robes.”
Sanji walked through the open privacy door into the bedroom, leaving Zoro alone in the living area. It suddenly felt like he could breathe again. Sanji hadn’t been mad, or disappointed. Zoro realized he’d picked the right person to like. Sanji did have his back.
Zoro went over to the bar and opened the cabinet. There was a row of alcohol of various types, from the hard stuff to the snooty kind Sanji liked to drink. There were also wine glasses and tumblers. The refrigerator held cold bottles of alcohol, plus cola and snacks. Zoro’s stomach gurgled. He grabbed an apple and bit into it while pulling a bottle of red wine and a bottle of beer. He munched on the apple as he poured Sanji a glass of the wine. He left the glass and the bottle on the bar and popped the cap on the beer with a bottle opener.
Sanji returned from the bedroom, wearing a fluffy pink robe and carrying a big white bag with the word laundry written across it in black. The robe draped down to mid-calf and it was rolled at the sleeves. “Found the robes. I put yours on the bed. Bring your dirty clothes out here and stick them in this bag. Boots, too. I’m going to call down for laundry service.”
“M’kay,” Zoro said around his apple. He pointed at the wine on the bar as he headed for the bedroom. “For you.”
“Thanks.” Sanji left the bag by the sofa, fetched his wine, and went over to the desk. Zoro heard him dialing as he closed the privacy panel to the bedroom.
The robe on the bed was white and equally as fluffy. Zoro set his katanas on the dressing table before holding the apple in his mouth and stripping. Even though the clothes had been soaked in a river and in the rain, they still had an odor of shit to them. Zoro sniffed his arm. He had an odor of shit to him, as well. Lovely.
One robed, Zoro polished off his apple, tossing the core in a trash can beneath the dressing table before gathering his dirty clothes and opening the privacy door. Sanji was seated at the desk beneath the window, sipping his wine and looking through a magazine. Zoro stuffed his dirty clothes and boots in the laundry bag just as he heard a knock.
“Fast timing.” Sanji stood, collected the bag, and hefted it to the door. He opened it to a uniformed serviceman, who accepted the laundry with a promise of it being returned within two hours. Sanji thanked him before shutting the door again. “Two hours, marimo. Want to take a bath first, or should I?”
Zoro had opened the refrigerator again and was scrounging for more food. “Go ahead. I want to eat.”
Sanji disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Zoro found several pre-made sandwiches wrapped in butcher’s paper and a bunch of grapes. He took his haul over to the couch and sat down with it and his beer. He heard the shower turn on in the other room. Kicking his feet up onto the couch, Zoro leaned against the arm rest and ate, washing it down with beer.
Sanji was gone for a while, likely enjoying the bath, allowing Zoro to take a nap after his stomach felt less empty. He was still hungry, but it would tide him over until they could get some real food. He’d drunk two more bottles of the beer before closing his eyes. The couch was very comfortable.
Sanji emerged eventually, waking him up with a nudge to his shoulder. “You’re up, smelly swordsman.”
Zoro swiped a paw at Sanji, who danced out of the way with a chuckle. Zoro yawned as he rose, scratched his belly over the robe, and padded into the bathroom. Steam floated in the air from Sanji’s hot bath. It smelled like cedarwood and vanilla. Zoro used the water closet before depositing his robe on the hook on the door. He found an opened bottle of shampoo and soap, plus a clean wash rag and towel, waiting for him.
Zoro used the shower first, scrubbing extra hard, including behind his ears and under his nails. He wanted no trace of animal dung to remain. He washed his hair, too. Once feeling clean, he took advantage of the bath. The Sunny had a great bath, but it didn’t have fun jets like this one. Zoro turned them on, positioned his various body parts in front of them, and let them pummel the day away.
He let his thoughts drift to what they might do tonight, since sex was off the table. Or at least postponed long enough for Zoro to feel comfortable about it. Maybe he could convince Sanji to go to a bar and Zoro could enact his plan to drink until they had to leave.
Zoro dozed in the bath for a while until he felt nicely pruned before getting out. He used the fluffy white towel to dry off, spreading it out besides Sanji’s on the towel bar to dry, before pulling the robe back on. He cinched the belt at the waist. He could use another beer.
Sanji glanced up from the magazine he was reading on the couch. Remains of eaten food sat on the coffee table. He quickly rose to clean up, earning a “Tch” from Zoro. “You’re not on duty, cook.”
“I don’t like other people seeing my mess.”
Zoro grinned at that. “Fastidious bastard.”
Sanji arched his brow. “You know what that word means? I’m impressed.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “I’m not dumb, even if you claim otherwise.”
“Hn. That remains to be seen.” Sanji returned to the couch, curling up in the corner with his legs tucked, as Zoro fetched himself another beer. “Once our clothes get back, we can grab some dinner. I saw a couple good looking restaurants nearby.”
“As long as it’s not one of those snooty ones where you have too many forks and no one can read the menu.” Zoro flopped onto the couch beside Sanji and propped his feet on the coffee table.
“You have no class,” Sanji told him. “But I also wouldn’t inflict your barbarism on a restaurant like that.”
“Heh.” Zoro sipped his beer. “I’d scratch my ass on purpose if you did.”
Sanji picked up his wine, which had been sitting on the coffee table. The bottle had moved from the bar to the coffee table, as well. It appeared to be half empty. “I wonder what the others are doing.”
“Dunno.” Zoro fiddled with the label on his beer. “I was going to the bar with Franky and Jinbe this morning before they disappeared. Otherwise, I didn’t hear what everyone else was doing.”
“I think Chopper was going with Brook and Robin to a museum. Luffy ran off to who knows where. Usopp helped me restock the ship before he and Nami went off together. She told me to make sure you hadn’t gotten lost.” Sanji shot him a droll look. “I wonder how she knew.”
“I don’t get lost on purpose,” Zoro groused.
Sanji nudged his thigh with a foot. “We know you don’t, marimo. That’s why someone’s always sent to find you on a regular basis. We usually rotate, depending on where we are and what’s going on.”
Zoro didn’t know if the information made him happy or angry. “You have a rotation?”
Sanji grinned. “Can’t let our little mossball disappear forever.”
Considering that was one of Zoro’s fears, he settled on being happy that his crew was looking out for him. He took another swig of his drink. “If you didn’t come looking for me, what would you be doing today?”
“I’d have probably gone shopping. I could use some essentials, socks and another belt. Maybe a new shirt or two.” Sanji rubbed the rim of his wine glass. “I always like looking for ties.”
Zoro’s lips curled. “I think you have more clothes than the girls.”
“Some of us prefer not to wear the same three shirts over and over again,” Sanji said.
“I have more than three,” Zoro said. “I have four.”
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Fashionista,” Sanji said dryly. “I stand corrected.”
They fell into easy bickering, with no heat behind it, whiling away the time until the laundry was returned. Once it was, and they’d redressed and put on their cleaned and polished footwear, Zoro grabbed his katanas and Sanji grabbed the room key, and they headed out for dinner.
Sanji took Zoro to a seafood restaurant that was down three streets and over two. It was a nice, little place, with shoji panels and chabudai tables. Sanji had spicy seafood pasta while Zoro had sea king onigiri. Sanji briefly hit on the waitress with a lengthy swoon, but he didn’t go on and on like he usually would. Zoro found it interesting. “You didn’t hit on the waitress much,” he commented after they’d left the restaurant, pleasantly full.
“I was only acknowledging her beauty, not trying to get into her panties while I’m on a date.”
Zoro blinked. “A date?”
“Yes, a date.” Sanji smirked. “What did you think this was?”
“Uh, two people going to eat,” Zoro said.
“I think kissing puts us firmly in the ‘dating’ category.” Sanj cut a glance at Zoro. “Unless you disagree.”
Zoro had never thought about dating before. “What’s it entail?”
“Dating? Hn, going out to dinner together, going to other places together, hanging out sometimes, kissing, doing other things when the time is right.”
It sounded like stuff they already did before the kissing and thought of other things. Zoro didn’t have a problem with it. “Okay.”
Sanji’s hand wrapped around Zoro’s and tugged lightly. “Let’s go. There’s a club I wanted to check out near the hotel. It’s still early, but the bar will be open.”
Zoro perked up. “I could use more to drink.”
Sanji snorted softly and led him back through the busy streets toward the hotel. Night had fallen while they had been at dinner. Street lights and night signs had come on. Lamps lit the various windows in the tall buildings. The streets were still crowded with people. Entertainment venues beckoned to passers by.
The door to the club Sanji brought them to had frosted glass with a wolf howling at a moon etched into it. A dark blue awning covered the entry. A sign near the door read Beta Moon, All Welcome, and it had the symbols from the hotel etched underneath it. Zoro pointed it out. “What do those symbols mean?”
“It means people won’t judge us for being together,” Sanji said. “There are people out there who hate anyone that doesn't conform to their values.”
“That’s dumb.”
Sanji shrugged. “It’s something you have to deal with if you’re going to date me. Our crew is open to everything, but we’re gonna run into hate sooner or later. I’d rather you not have to experience it yet.”
Zoro glanced at him. “Did you have to experience it?”
“Hn, yeah. Back in Arabasta.” Sanji snorted derisively. “Got a few broken ribs, but left them in a worse mess.”
It had been too long and they’d had too many injuries over the years for Zoro to remember that particular one. “Is that why you don’t date men often?”
“No,” Sanji said. “I don’t date men often because it takes a special someone to interest me.”
Zoro felt a heat coil in his gut and also spread across his cheeks. He was a special someone.
Sanji squeezed his hand. “Let’s go inside, marimo.” He opened the door to the club and led them in.
The club had a cover charge, which Sanji paid, and they were allowed past the entry. The club was divided into three sections. On the right was a large floor with black and white checkered tile and a raised stage in front of it. A band was currently setting up their instruments. To the left was a bar that ran along the entire wall with bolted bar stools in front of it. High round tables and chairs filled that portion of the floor. There was also a set of stairs leading up to a wraparound balcony with sofas and a scattering of more tables. Blue, yellow, and red lights glowed softly from hanging cans. Sanji mentioned they’d likely alternate colors once the band started playing. The serving staff wore t-shirts with the wolf-moon logo on it. Several patrons already were seated at the tables and along the bar, drinking and chatting.
Sanji slid onto an open bar stool and Zoro took the seat beside him. The bartender came by, and Sanji opened a tab and ordered himself a foofy drink. Zoro got another beer. Sanji turned on his stool to face the room and let his eyes wander over the current patrons while sipping his neon orange drink. “Who do you think would win in a fight, the bartender or the guy with the horns at the end of the bar?” Sanji said.
Zoro’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Sanji clucked with exasperation. “It’s a game, marimo. Who do you think would win?”
“I don’t know anything about them.”
Sanji gave him a look that said he was being a moron. “Again, game. You don’t have to know anything.”
“Tch.” Zoro glanced at the bartender and the horned-man. “Bartender.”
Sanji looked down the bar at the two. “Why?”
“Other guy’s drunk.” Zoro took a swig of his own beer.
“How about the two at the table behind us?” Sanji gestured with his chin.
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. Two tall, muscular women sat at the table. They were talking animatedly while holding hands. “Uh… tie?”
Sanji tisked. “You have to pick one.”
Zoro shot Sanji an irritated look. “Who made these rules?”
“I don’t know. They’re just the rules.”
“Fine.” Zoro took a second glance at the women. “The one in the green.”
“Why?”
“I like green.”
Sanji chuckled. “I’d pick the one in the red. She’s got some scars.”
“Where?” Zoro squinted in that direction again. His vision wasn’t bad, but with only one eye and the dim lighting, it made it more difficult to see.
“Under her chin and behind her ear.” Sanji gestured with his drink toward the entry of the club. “How about them?”
Zoro decided to turn around fully on his stool. He lifted his beer to his lips as he observed the two who had entered. Two men, one tall and muscular, the second tiny and slim. The big one had his arm around the shorter one’s shoulders. “The tiny one. Definitely.”
Sanji’s lips quirked. “I’m looking forward to knowing why.”
“Are you kidding? He’s got the big one wrapped around his finger. One word, and the big guy’s knocking himself out.”
“And how do you know that?” Sanji sounded amused.
“It’s obvious. He looks at the other one like I look at–” Zoro cut himself off suddenly as realized what he was saying. He could feel the blush slam across his face. He could feel Sanji’s eyes on him but he refused to look in that direction. He guzzled the rest of his beer.
Sanji leaned over and kissed him on the shell of the ear, whispering, “Sweet marimo.”
If anything, Zoro blushed harder.
“I’m going to say, of the two band members on stage, the drummer would pummel the bassist,” Sanji said, continuing the game. “The bassist looks like he’d faint at the sight of blood.”
Zoro signaled the bartender for another beer and pretended nothing had happened. “It’s the overalls.”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed. “Hm. You’re right. Very Usopp.”
They played for a while longer, as more and more people entered the club. The hour turned with them bickering over the last pair, both of whom were beautiful women. Sanji only bled for a few seconds before swiping his nose with a cocktail napkin. Then he was arguing with Zoro about who might punch harder or have longer kick reach.
The club became more crowded. Men, women, zoans, Fish-Men and even a mink came in singles, pairs or groups. Clothing ranged from shorts and t-shirts to fitted leather and mesh. Sanji accompanied Zoro to the restroom to prevent their date from ending prematurely by Zoro getting lost. The band started playing fast and loud, the lights began alternating as Sanji had predicted. People congregated in the bar area and on the balcony, chatting, drinking, laughing, and having a good time. Sanji paid their tab before the bartender got too occupied. The dance floor filled as the night grew long. Alcohol flowed, people became looser, heat rose in the club.
Drums pounded, the synth buzzed, the walls seemed to undulate. The music was wild and thumping. The lights strobed overhead, making the scene appear riotous. Bodies moved freely, limbs writhing, rocking to the rhythm of the songs. Ignoring Zoro’s protests, Sanji dragged Zoro onto the crowded dance floor, keeping near the edge where Zoro’s katanas wouldn’t hit anyone.
Sanji threw his arms around Zoro’s neck and began to sway their bodies together in tempo. The music flowed, the stiffness in Zoro’s shoulders and back relaxed. The bass throbbed, the pulse of the crowd beating as one. Sanji slid against him, hips rotating, body fluid. Raw energy pumped through Zoro’s body and made him move without thinking. His hands spanned Sanji’s waist, holding him close, their chests and thighs pressed together as their bodies rocked. His heart thumped along with the heavy beat of the music and he was drowning in the feel of Sanji against him. He drank in Sanji’s shining eyes and happy grin as he moved with Zoro on the dance floor.
Zoro kissed him, right there, in front of everyone. His mouth moved against Sanji’s, feeling the vibration of the music through their lips and tongues. Sanji tasted like tangerines, cigarettes, and joy. Zoro felt free, alive. He slid his arms around Sanji’s back, clutching him close, grinding with him on the dance floor. Sanji broke away and rested their foreheads together. His short panting breaths gusted hotly against Zoro’s kiss dampened lips. Zoro wanted to touch him, desperately. He moved to whisper in Sanji’s ear, “Let’s go.”
Sanji’s hands slid down Zoro’s exposed chest before grabbing Zoro’s hand and dragging him out of the club. Outside, the night was warm and sultry. The streets were still crowded with people. Zoro could still feel the bass throbbing in his veins. Sanji led Zoro two doors down to their hotel, up the elevator, and to their room. Anticipation tingled in Zoro’s gut.
The door slammed shut behind them, and this time, it spurred Zoro on. He snagged an arm around Sanji’s waist immediately, yanking Sanji against him, diving in for a kiss. Sanji’s hands threaded in Zoro’s hair, opening his mouth, inviting Zoro in. Excitement stirred Zoro, heart hammering in his chest. He could hear both their unsteady breathing. His tongue slid against Sanji’s hungrily, arousal slinking down his spine.
Zoro wanted this. He wanted to feel every inch of Sanji’s heated skin, to know what it tasted like. He wanted to see Sanji naked and hard. He wanted to know what it was like to hold Sanji’s cock in his hand, to find out how different it was than his own. He wanted Sanji, all of him.
Sanji drew back suddenly, their mouths making a wet sound as they parted. Sanji’s breathing was rapid and he looked at Zoro with heavy eyes. “I’m going to shower. Two minutes. Wait for me in the bedroom.”
Zoro was reluctant to let go of Sanji but he acquiesced. He had no idea why Sanji wanted to take another shower. They’d gotten clean earlier. “Hurry.”
Sanji kissed him quickly on the lips again before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Zoro walked into the bedroom, turning on the lamp next to the bed. He heard the shower go on. He removed his katanas, setting them and his belt on the dressing table, before pulling off his boots. Bare-footed, he shrugged off his blue shirt, dropping it over the dressing chair. He eyed the bed, nervousness coiling around anticipation. Unlike before, he didn’t want to run.
He wished the music was still there, though, surrounding them, pumping through them. He went back into the main room, searching for a music radio since they were in a more technological city. He found one by the desk and fiddled with it until he found a recording playing heavier, but slower music. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it evoked a similar vibe and cut through the edged silence.
Zoro carried the music radio into the bedroom and set it on the nightstand. He heard the shower go off. His stomach clenched and his erection firmed again. Emotion ratcheted, tempered by physical excitement. He was really going to do this. He was going to get to touch Sanji like he’d imagined doing for weeks.
The secondary bathroom door connected to the bedroom opened and Sanji shut off the light behind him. He walked into the bedroom with his hair damp and a towel riding low around his waist. He carried something in his hand, which he set on the nightstand. Zoro stood beside the bed, his eye roving over the revealed expanse of Sanji’s pale skin. His mouth went dry. His palms tingled. His hard-on twitched in his pants.
Sanji’s lips curved in the corner as he looked at Zoro. WIth a flick of his wrist, the towel around his waist dropped to the floor. He crawled onto the bed and laid back in the center, pillowing his arms behind his head, leaving him completely exposed to Zoro’s view. His erection stood from a bed of blond curls around his groin. Zoro stopped breathing.
“Are you going to look all night or did you want to touch?” Sanji asked, amusement light in his tone. “I don’t mind either.”
Zoro inhaled sharply and blinked his brain back into gear. Sanji was fucking gorgeous. All hard muscle and strong lines. There was nothing soft about him. Not even his cock, which looked like it might fit perfectly beneath the palm of Zoro’s hand. Zoro ached to touch him so badly. “Can I…?”
Sanji extended a hand toward Zoro in invitation. “Yeah, sweet marimo. You definitely can.”
Zoro didn’t need further invitation. He crawled onto the bed, catching Sanji’s palm with a kiss. He moved beside Sanji, pressing his hands on either side of Sanji’s head, lowering his mouth to kiss Sanji on the lips. Sanji hummed with soft satisfaction, fingers dancing along Zoro’s arm. The music twined around them, a low, steady thrum that Zoro felt in the base of his spine.
Zoro lifted his head, his eye meeting Sanji’s single revealed one. Zoro shifted in order to brush Sanji’s damp hair off his face. The sight of both Sanji’s eyes and the silly eyebrows made Zoro’s heart catch. He liked seeing Sanji like this, unhidden, open. He ran his fingertip along one eyebrow, following the curl. He felt a tiny scar hidden beneath it, the raised flesh unseen by the swirl of wiry hairs. Sanji’s expression was soft and a little shy. “What is it with men and my eyebrows?” he questioned quietly.
“Hn.” Zoro traced his finger back down to Sanji’s nose, then along its sharp length. “It’s not your eyebrows that I’m looking at.”
A blush stole across Sanji’s cheeks. “Damned love moss.”
Zoro grinned and dared to kiss the tip of Sanji’s nose. It earned him a squawk of protest. Any nervousness remaining vanished into a feeling of contentment. He was still aroused, very much so, but he felt light, comfortable, just being with Sanji. It was a new feeling, one he didn’t want to let go of anytime soon, if ever.
He lowered his head and kissed Sanji again. Not the hungry ones that made his toes curl, but soft, gentle. He simply wanted to feel Sanji’s lips against his own. Sanji sighed into the kiss, his hand coming up to run through the back of Zoro’s hair. No pressure, no coaxing, allowing Zoro to set the pace. The trust Zoro felt with Sanji wasn’t misplaced.
Zoro pulled back, sitting up on his knees. He let his gaze rove slowly down Sanji’s nude body. The lamplight was behind Zoro, and his bulk cast a shadow across Sanji’s chest. Zoro still wore his trousers, his hard-on tenting the material, but he didn’t want to take them off. Not yet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be naked with Sanji, to have Sanji touch him in that way. Above the clothes in the rainforest was in the moment. This would be a purposeful decision. Maybe later. Maybe after he touched Sanji, he would desire to be touched, as well.
“How are you so comfortable naked?” Zoro asked him.
“I’m not,” Sanji said, which surprised Zoro. “I’m self-conscious about…,” he gestured toward his groin, “...but I don’t want you to think that there’s anything shameful about being naked with someone you want to be with.”
Warmth spread through Zoro’s chest. Sanji was still watching his back. “I think you’re gorgeous,” Zoro told him gruffly.
The blush that had covered Sanji’s cheeks spread down his neck and over his chest. He shifted, starting to hide himself with his hand, but then dropped it onto his stomach with a rueful grin. “You’re not that bad looking yourself.”
The tingle in Zoro’s palms returned. He wanted to find out if Sanji felt as good as he looked. He lifted a hand, then hesitated. Did he need to ask first? He should probably ask first. He’d want to be asked. “Is it alright if I touch you?”
Sanji’s lips curved again in a soft smile. “Yeah, it’s alright.”
Zoro’s heart sped up and his breathing went shallow. He tentatively reached out his hand. It hovered over Sanji’s chest until he gathered his courage to lower it. He’d touched Sanji before, when they were fighting, or to give him a helping hand. They’d bumped into each other, been thrust together by a huggy Luffy, and had slept side-by-side. But this was different. This held meaning. It was intimate. Intentional. Sexual. This was not a platonic touch between friends.
Sanji’s skin was warm, smooth. Soft, nearly invisible blond chest hairs tickled Zoro’s palm. The solid muscle of Sanji’s pec shifted beneath Zoro’s hand. Sanji’s peach nipple pebbled as Zoro slid over it. He ran his hand downward, over Sanji’s ridged abs, watching Sanji’s stomach undulate beneath his touch. He glanced at Sanji’s face, afraid he might have done something wrong. “This okay?”
Sanji watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, one hand still pillowed behind his head, the other at his side. “Feels good. I’m not as sensitive as I used to be, but it’s not as bad as I’d feared.”
Zoro ran his hand along Sanji’s lower abdomen, beneath his navel, catching the top of his curls against the side of his hand. “The exoskeleton?”
“Yeah.” Sanji took a deep breath as Zoro traced along the V that ran down toward his inner hip. “Took away most of the pain. Hoped it hadn’t taken away this, too.”
Zoro shifted his hand over to Sanji’s thick thigh, his knuckles bumping briefly against Sanji’s balls. The thigh muscle twitched beneath his palm. Sanji could crush him with these legs. “Glad it didn’t.”
“Me, too.” Sanji exhaled a shaky breath. “Though, I think this would’ve excited me even if I couldn’t feel it.”
Zoro took it for the compliment it was. He shifted to run his hand down Sanji’s leg, over his knee, to his calf. He couldn’t reach Sanji’s feet, so he moved toward the end of the bed, settling on his knees again. He picked up one of Sanji’s feet and set it on his lap before running his fingers over the thick toes and hard calloused sole. Sanji’s feet were not pretty, cracked and heavily scarred. The toenails had an orange tinge to them, and a few were broken. A testament to his fighting prowess.
The low throb of the music coming from the radio pulsed through Zoro’s veins. He looked up at Sanji, over the long expanse of his body spread before him. Sanji shifted his knee open, an invitation to explore what was in between his thighs. Want curled around Zoro’s spine. He put Sanji’s foot on the bed, placed both hands on Sanji’s legs, and smoothed his hands up Sanji’s inner thighs as he crawled forward on his knees. The hairs on Sanji’s legs caught against the callouses on Zoro’s palms.
Sanji’s chest rose and fell at a slightly more rapid pace as Zoro settled between his legs. He’d spread his knees more to accommodate Zoro. His eyes, both still visible, were darkened with desire. “Hold on a second,” he murmured, raising up to stretch for the nightstand. He grasped the bottle he’d placed there earlier. He laid back down again, setting the bottle beside his hip.
Zoro glanced at it. “What’s that?”
“In case you want to explore deeper.” Sanji motioned toward his groin. “I don’t know how far you want to go, but I don’t want you to feel hesitant, either.”
Zoro picked up the bottle and studied the label that included instructions. He felt his face heat. The label was explicit on where it went and how to apply it. He put the bottle back beside Sanji’s hip and cleared his throat. “Right. Okay.”
Sanji smiled with soft amusement. “We don’t need to use it.”
Zoro felt his blush deepen. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Sanji nudged Zoro’s calf with his heel. “Idiot love moss.”
Zoro scowled. “Do you have to call me that?”
“Yes.” Sanji grinned unrepentantly. “Love moss.”
Zoro surged up over Sanji, planting his hands on either side of Sanji’s shoulders. Sanji sucked in a quick breath of surprise. It made Zoro smile sharply. “Pretty cook,” he mocked softly, even though it was the truth. He watched with satisfaction as another blush crawled across Sanji’s face.
“Shut up,” Sanji grumbled, bringing his hand behind Zoro’s neck to pull him into a kiss.
Zoro’s chest rumbled with enjoyment. His mouth moved with Sanji’s, tasting his lips, entangling their tongues. He was getting better at kissing, following instinct and Sanji’s lead. A brief flare of jealousy licked through Zoro, when he realized Sanji’s experience came from kissing other people. It faded as quickly as it came on. The fact that other people found Sanji attractive, wanted to be with him sexually, wasn’t surprising. He was strong, gorgeous, and had a big heart. That it took Zoro so long to see it was a mark against himself.
The music recording playing over the radio segued into a more sultry sound. The deep bass rolled through the bedroom, the driving rhythm hypnotic and sensual. Zoro’s loins felt heavy, his trousers too tight. The kiss changed into something more charged, electric. Zoro pressed himself down on Sanji’s body, their bare chests flush, his hips nestled against Sanji’s groin. Sanji moaned throatily, his hips undulating upward, against Zoro. Zoro could feel Sanji’s hardness through the material of Zoro’s trousers, rubbing alongside his own.
A carnal fire ignited in Zoro’s veins. He wanted to run his hands all over Sanji again. He wanted to hear Sanji’s moan. He ground his hips downward like how they were dancing as the club. Sanji gasped against his lips, arching into him. The pressure against Zoro’s erection was exquisite. He rocked against Sanji boldly now, feeling the tightness lift his balls. He was going to come like this, but he didn’t care. Lust had him in a tight grip. He thrust against Sanji’s body, his clothing providing friction. Sanji’s tongue twined against his own, their hot breaths mingling. Zoro felt himself unraveling, his movement becoming jerky, and his mind blanked as he plummeted into orgasm.
Ropes of sticky cum filled his trousers, his body shuddering hard. A high-pitched noise escaped from his mouth into Sanji’s stilled kiss. He collapsed atop Sanji, mouth sliding down Sanji’s cheek to press into his neck. Zoro panted harshly against Sanji’s skin, trying to regather himself. He felt Sanji petting his hair.
Zoro drew upward and met Sanji’s heady gaze. Sanji’s lips were wet from kissing, a different kind of flush staining his face. His hair was still pushed back, revealing all of himself to Zoro. Zoro felt a clench in his gut. He wanted to see Sanji like this all the time. Pliant, vulnerable, painted with desire. He was envious of the men who’d gotten to see Sanji like this before him. He felt the covetous urge to never allow anyone but him to see Sanji like this again.
Zoro kissed Sanji again, slowly, deeply. Subtly claiming. He felt Sanji’s hum of pleasure against his lips and the rumble against his chest. Sanji’s hips moved slightly beneath Zoro and Zoro could still feel Sanji’s hardness poking against him. Zoro raised his head, their lips parting with a soft, wet sound. He met Sanji’s gaze again before moving back, settling on his knees again between Sanji’s legs.
Sanji’s cock was hard, standing upright from his body. His lightly furred balls hung beneath it. He could see a slightly darker line that ran beneath Sanji’s balls between his spread thighs. It led to the shadowed cleft and the hint of Sanji’s puckered hole. Zoro’s brain supplied him with the directions on the bottle sitting beside Sanji’s hip. This time, anticipation rolled through Zoro.
He flicked a glance up at Sanji. Sanji’s chest rose and fell quickly again, the flush of arousal mottling his pale skin. His half-lidded eyes watched Zoro intently. The lamplight highlighted his muscles and the blood-caused rosiness of his straining cock. This was all Zoro’s, to have, to play with, to touch. Heat unspooled inside Zoro. Why had he been afraid of this?
A synth piano tinkled over the steady thrum of the bass. The low vibration pulsed in the room. Zoro lifted his hand and pressed Sanji’s erection against his pubes. Sanji hissed, his hips bucking reflexively. The length fitted beneath Zoro’s palm like he’d pictured, the mushroomed head hitting the ridge of his hand beneath his fingers. Zoro rubbed the heel of his palm against the base, earning another hiss of pleasure. He turned his hand, closing his fingers around Sanji. The very tip of Sanji’s erection poked above his fist, the slit leaking pre-cum. It fit perfectly in his grip, like his hand was made for Sanji’s cock.
Sanji cursed when Zoro tentatively stroked him. It felt the same but also so very different from Zoro’s own. Sanji’s erection was stiff, the skin silky over the hard shaft. The head disappeared into his grip but he felt ineffectual. He lifted his top two fingers, firming the grip of his ring finger and pinkie around Sanji’s cock. It allowed for a longer stroke and for Zoro to see the skin sliding over the turgid length.
Sanji shifted his legs, his heels digging into the bedding on either side of Zoro. Zoro glanced up again to find Sanji biting his lower lip. He looked so hot, rapturous, as Zoro stroked him. Zoro used his other hand to cup Sanji’s balls, feeling their heft, the thin, wrinkled skin cradling the more solid orbs beneath. Sanji whimpered slightly when Zoro gently squeezed like he enjoyed himself. “Good?” Zoro had to check.
“Fuck, yes.” Sanji’s voice sounded ragged, filled with lust. “Touch me how you want.”
Arousal clenched around Zoro again. His eye flicked to the bottle beside Sanji’s hip. “I want to use that,” he said.
The noise Sanji made shot right to Zoro’s balls. “Open it. Coat your fingers.”
Zoro released Sanji’s cock, picked up the bottle, and twisted off the lid. It was filled with a slick, clear substance. Zoro dipped two fingers into it. It felt thick and slippery. He used his thumb to smear it over his fingers.
Sanji shifted, grabbing one of the pillows and sticking it beneath his hips. It exposed him more to Zoro’s view. Zoro stared. It shouldn’t be hot. He was staring at another man’s asshole. But Zoro felt like his insides were on fire. He licked his suddenly dry lips, earning a wanton sound from Sanji. His gaze flicked up, to find Sanji swiping away the blood trickling from his nose.
“What do I do?” Zoro asked, feeling desperate now. His returned erection strained against the material of his trousers.
“Use one finger first. Push it inside me,” Sanji said in a desire-tightened voice. “It’s been a while.”
Sanji’s words reminded Zoro that other men had been in Zoro’s position and it shouldn’t have been arousing but it definitely was. Sanji was spread like a feast before Zoro, beautiful and rapturous. He deserved to be worshiped and pleasured how he wanted by whom he wanted. And right now, he wanted Zoro.
Zoro pressed his forefinger unhesitantly against Sanji’s hole, taking Sanji at his word. Sanji opened around his fingertip, allowing him to slip inside. The slick substance coating his finger made it easy. Sanji cursed, his hands clutching the bedding on either side of him. Inside, Sanji felt hot, tight, and surprisingly silky soft. His body gripped Zoro’s finger snugly.
“Now what?” Zoro asked, fascinated by the sight of his finger inside Sanji. Sanji’s cock jumped at his words, drawing his attention. He used the thumb of his other hand to brush up the underside to the head. He wondered if he could stroke Sanji at the same time as he used his fingers. He was ambidextrous.
“Slide your finger in and out, but not all the way out,” Sanji said with a ragged moan.
Zoro did as told, the slick making it easy to comply. His finger drew the skin around Sanji’s hole back and forth as he moved. His brain informed him that he was fucking Sanji with his finger. He was having finger sex. A wave of lust slammed through him. He’d never imagined that he’d want this, it simply hadn’t interested him. Now, he couldn’t think about anything else.
“Put- put the other finger in,” Sanji stuttered.
Zoro drew his forefinger back and then nudged his slicked middle finger beside it. Sanji’s body flared as Zoro pushed the second finger inside. Sanji moaned again, his head turning on the pillow. Zoro licked his dry lips again. His fingers looked lewd, stretching Sanji open. He began fucking Sanji with both fingers, his thumb pressed against the curl of his ring finger and pinkie, palm facing upward. The slick substance aided Zoro in touching Sanji this way.
“Zoro,” Sanji panted, body flushed and grasping. “C-Curl your fingers upward in-inside me.”
Zoro did as told, pushing his fingers past the second knuckle before curling them upward. He felt a slight bulge that was softer, fleshier, and smooth. A wrecked sound ripped from Sanji’s throat. “Fuck, fuck, right there.”
Zoro’s mouth slackened, his focus completely on Sanji. Sanji’s thighs trembled, his chest heaving shallowly, his abs clenched tight. His head turned back and forth on the pillow beneath it, eyes scrunched shut, face reddened with pleasure. More curses tumbled from his lips. “Fuck, keep, yes, fuck, shit, more…”
Zoro rubbed the spot with his fingertips and Sanji’s hole clenched around him hard. He watched as Sanji shattered in front of him, crying out loudly, wordlessly, his back arching from the bed. He dropped down, bit the side of his knuckles, and within ten seconds he was crying out again. Sanji’s cock drooled profusely, white, milky cum pouring from it, but it didn’t shoot like Zoro was used to seeing with himself. Zoro kept rubbing him and was rewarded with another of Sanji’s loud, wrecked cries, body jolting before him, hole spasming and clamping around Zoro’s fingers. It was the hottest thing Zoro had ever seen in his life.
Sanji’s hand reached for his cock, his forefinger and a thumb closing around himself, and he jerked himself three times before climaxing. Zoro watched as a fountain of cum spurted from Sanji’s cock, spattering over his hand, in his pubes, and onto his balls. Zoro pressed the heel of his right palm against his own aching erection, rubbing hard. He came again in his trousers, staining the front wetly with more of his own jizz. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as orgasm wracked his body. Then, he slumped, heart racing, chest heaving for air.
He opened his eye, which had closed reflexively. Sanji looked destroyed, his body limp, skin mottled with a sex-flush, lips slack, a bit of saliva at the corners. His spent cock was softening, falling against the nest of blond curls surrounding it. Zoro’s fingers were still snug in Sanji’s ass. That could be my cock inside him, Zoro realized, desire wrapping its hands around Zoro’s throat.
He was spent, though. And sticky. He wanted a shower, maybe a snack. He also didn’t want to leave the bed. He must’ve looked helpless, because Sanji chuckled softly. “You can remove your fingers. As enjoyable as it is, I could use a minute to recover.”
Zoro’s fingers slid easily from Sanji’s ass. The slicked hole stayed open a moment, as if inviting Zoro in again, before it relaxed to its normal state. He wiped his fingers on the bedding. “I’m, uh, going to shower,” he said tentatively, still unsure.
Sanji nodded. “Throw my cigarettes over here before you do.”
Zoro climbed off the end of the bed and went into the bathroom. He found Sanji’s clothes folded neatly on the side of the sink. He retrieved the cigarettes and lighter, and brought them back to Sanji.
Sanji had maneuvered the pillow behind him, sitting upright against the headboard. He’d found an ashtray, likely inside the nightstand. Zoro gave him the cigarettes and lighter. “Thanks,” Sanji said.
Zoro wanted to kiss him again. The constant pull was getting out of hand. He purposely turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom. He hit the toilet before washing his hands, being careful not to splash Sanji’s clothes. He stared at himself in the mirror above the sink. His face was flushed, his lips were slightly swollen. He was looking at a man who’d just done sex-things. His skin turned darker, a blush taking over. Was that what it would always be like? A little wild, a bit heavy, a lot of hunger that overrode everything else?
“Fuck,” Zoro whispered to himself. Everything felt out of his control. It terrified him. The feelings churning inside of him were disorienting. He was starting to get overwhelmed.
He wondered how Sanji felt about this. If he was as scared and entangled as Zoro was. Sanji had told him that it took a special someone to gain his interest in another man. Sanji didn’t do this lightly. Zoro’s trust wasn’t unfounded.
Zoro stripped out of his trousers and washed the semen from them in the sink before setting them aside to dry. He stepped into the shower, turning the water on, gathering the soap to wash himself again. His soapy hand brushed over his own hole as he cleaned himself and his body clenched with sudden arousal. Sanji might want to touch him in the same way, inside, and the idea both petrified and intoxicated him. Shit. He felt like his body was betraying him by reacting so viscerally.
Zoro finished washing himself, getting rid of the dried and fresh cum on his groin, and rinsed clean. He shut off the water, grabbed his towel from earlier, and dried himself off. He eyed his wet trousers, not wanting to put them back on. The robe he’d been wearing before was in the bedroom. He only had the towel.
Zoro steeled himself and wrapped it around his waist. It wasn’t as if Sanji hadn’t seen him in a towel before. The whole crew had seen him in a towel at one time or another, sharing the Sunny’s bath or crossing the ship to the men’s quarters after bathing. He shoved the feeling of discomfort away. Then, he went out the other door of the bathroom to the living area, avoiding the bedroom altogether.
The fridge hadn’t magically restocked itself since earlier, but there was still enough for Zoro to choose from. He snagged a pre-wrapped meat and cheese plate and a cold beer. “Grab me a bottle of water, marimo,” Sanji called from the other room.
Zoro snagged the water and closed the fridge with his knee. Armed with food, Zoro set his jaw and made his way back into the bedroom.
Sanji was seated cross-legged now, the side of the bedding draped over his naked lap. The ashtray on the nightstand held a spent cigarette. The pack and lighter sat beside it. The music had changed. Sanji must’ve switched the channels. Soft stringed music drifted through the room.
Zoro handed the water to Sanji before sitting on the end of the bed. It felt odd to be only in a towel. He glanced over at the robe where he’d tossed it after getting changed. Sanji noticed. “You don’t need to be naked on my account,” Sanji told him.
Zoro scowled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Sanji snorted. “Like you’d listen anyway.”
“It’s not like you say anything intelligent.”
“Not all of us grunt like you do.”
The start of their bickering felt familiar, relaxing. Zoro let his tense shoulders release. He opened the wrap on the meat and cheese plate and set it on the bed between them. “Better than your prissy speak.”
“Prissy speak?” Sanji’s voice rose slightly. “I’ll show you who’s prissy.”
Sanji’s foot shot out from beneath the bedding, catching Zoro in the knee. Zoro smacked his hand down on Sanji’s ankle, yanking him hard, causing him to smack his head against the headboard. Sanji twisted his body, his other leg flying out to crack Zoro across the cheek. Zoro slammed the side of his fist into Sanji’s thigh. The fight was on.
They kicked and hit and tussled, messing up the bedding, knocking over the chair, nearly shattering the lamp. Sanji saved the food from flying, catching it all on the plate after it was launched into the air. He quickly set the plate on the nightstand before jumping at Zoro again. Zoro didn’t use his katanas, sitting on the dressing table. It was more fun to fight and grapple with his hands.
Sanji was naked, jumping around, kicking Zoro into furniture and the walls. Zoro lost his towel at some point, then regained it as a weapon, twirling it tightly in order to whip the end at Sanji. Sanji squawked with every smack Zoro landed on him. It caused Zoro to laugh.
Eventually, the wardrobe door cracked and the bed shifted cockeyed to the wall. Zoro tackled Sanji onto the bed’s surface, smothering him with the towel. Sanji cursed and struggled and kicked Zoro with his heel in the kidney. Zoro oofed at the sharp pain. Sanji got the towel off his face and glared up at Zoro. His blond hair was in a disarray, both eyes spitting with fury. His lips were pressed in a thin line, colored heightened on his face from exertion.
“Even when you’re angry, you’re gorgeous,” Zoro said, suddenly feeling raw. How had he never noticed this?
The blush was swift, Sanji’s tone shifting to embarrassment. “Stupid love moss.”
Zoro realized the compromising position they were in now. There was nothing between them anymore. Instead of being daunting, it felt right. Arousal curled through him again, causing his cock to start to stiffen. Sanji’s breath caught, his eyes darkening when he noticed. Zoro could feel Sanji begin to harden, as well.
Zoro bent his head and captured Sanji’s lips in a kiss. Sanji dropped the towel and twined his hands behind Zoro’s neck. Their mouths slid against each other’s back and forth, tasting, parting, and tasting again. The kiss was languid, slow, full of a longing that built and built until passion flowed freely. Zoro’s heart thrummed, his body felt warm and electrified. He drew back from the kiss, his eye opening to gaze down at Sanji with a hunger he was becoming familiar with. “Can we try it? Sex?”
Sanji’s breath whooshed out of him. “Yeah. We can.”
Zoro moved off Sanji, allowing Sanji to reposition himself on the bed. “Do you want to see me still?” Sanji asked him, finding the bottle of slick in the rumpled bedding.
Zoro’s focus was on the shift of solid muscle beneath Sanji’s skin as he moved. “How do you mean?”
“We can do it like you did with your fingers,” Sanji told him. “Or I can face away from you.”
“Oh. Uh…” Zoro didn’t want to make a decision. He wanted to feel Sanji around his cock. “You pick.”
Sanji’s lips quirked. “I’m going to be selfish, then. I want to watch you shatter.”
It felt like the air had been sucked right out of the room. Zoro’s entire body clenched with desire. He wanted that. He wanted that so badly. To lose himself in Sanji and not worry about anything. “You’ll guard my back?”
Sanji’s smile softened. “Always.”
Sanji adjusted the bedding so it was smoothed beneath him and propped the pillow beneath his hips again. He beckoned Zoro with a hand. Zoro didn’t have to be told to crawl between Sanji’s spread thighs. Sanji passed him the bottle. “Use this again, both fingers this time. I’m still relaxed enough to prep fast.”
Zoro opened the lid again and dipped the fingers on his left hand inside. He smeared the slick substance over his digits, capped the lid, and dropped the bottle aside. He didn’t hesitate to press both digits against Sanji’s visible hole. After a brief resistance, both fingers slipped easily inside. Sanji made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, this will be quick. I didn’t realize this would be a perk of my exoskeleton.”
Zoro watched his fingers slide in and out of Sanji’s body. Zoro’s erection stood from his body, hard and aching. He was bigger than his fingers. He didn’t know how he was going to fit. “Will I fit?”
Sanji laughed, the light, bright one that made Zoro’s heart hitch. “You don’t have a log. Even if you did, you’d fit just fine.” He smiled fondly at Zoro. “You’ve made me laugh more today than I have in a while. Thank you.”
It was an odd thing to be thanked for, but it made Zoro feel proud of himself. He smiled happily at Sanji.
Sanji blinked and he inhaled sharply. It was the same reaction he’d had back in the forest. “You have such a beautiful smile.”
Bashfulness washed over Zoro. He dropped his gaze to his fingers, which were still inside Sanji. “Can we just have sex now?” he asked gruffly.
“Sweet marimo.” Sanji brushed his fingertips along Zoro’s jawline. “Use the lube on your cock.”
Zoro withdrew his fingers, picked up the bottle, and uncapped it again. He scooped some of the slick substance out with his fingertips and coated his erection liberally. He tried not to stroke himself too much. He didn’t want to come already. Once the bottle was recapped, he wiped his fingers on the bedding and looked to Sanji for further instruction.
Sanji settled more comfortably on the bed, drawing his knees back, exposing himself more to Zoro. “Put your cock against me and push, like with your fingers.”
Zoro scooted closer on his knees and positioned himself against Sanji’s slicked hole. Fear started to grab hold of him. He was about to have sex. Sex-sex, not side-sex. His eye shot up to Sanji’s, a hint of panic in his voice. “You’re sure this is okay?” This was big. Too big. Too much.
Sanji smiled tenderly at him. Somehow, he knew what Zoro was saying without having to ask. “I’ll catch you, Zoro, if you want to fall.”
It was what Zoro needed to hear. The nerves were still there, but his emotional anxiety, the fear and panic, had receded into want. And he did want this, wanted Sanji. More than anything right now. He pressed forward. Sanji’s hole flowered around his slicked cock. He watched it disappear into Sanji’s body as he bore steadily forward. Sanji made an indecent sound, his thighs trembling, feet flexing. “Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he said breathily.
Zoro found it hard to concentrate on anything but the feel of Sanji’s hot, tight body clenching around his cock. He was so glad he’d orgasmed twice already this evening or he’d already be spilling his load. Sanji was so soft, yet so tight where his muscle ring grasped around Zoro’s erection. Zoro felt he could stay, just like this, forever.
Sanji had other ideas, though. “Move, love moss, before I die.”
Zoro blinked the buzzing from his mind. Move. He should move. Move like his fingers. He planted his hands on Sanji’s raised thighs for balance before drawing his hips backwards. The tight ring slid up his turgid cock. He pushed his hips forward again, Sanji’s body stroking his erection. A choked noise erupted from his throat. It was like masturbating, but a million times better.
He began to move faster now, drawing his hips back, thrusting forward again into Sanji’s tight, hot body. The pleasure was insane. His entire being was centered on the feeling around his cock. He quickly figured out a rhythm, balancing wide on his knees, hands pulling Sanji onto his cock as he thrust. Sanji made ragged, encouraging sounds, telling Zoro that Sanji had him, that he was safe, that he could let go.
Zoro lost all coherent thought. His body took over, fucking Sanji, driving into him again and again. Lewd, wet smacking sounds resounded in his ears. The bed rocked hard, the soft strains of violin music drowned out by the headboard knocking against the wall. Zoro’s pelvis smacked against Sanji’s upraised ass, the tight glove of Sanji’s body stroking him to dizzying heights.
When he crashed, he crashed hard, black spots dancing in front of his eye. His body stiffened, then exploded. Wave after wave after wave of intense pleasure took him, his muscles contracting, balls lifting, orgasm slamming through his cock. He spilled and spilled deep within Sanji’s hot, welcoming ass. He swayed as everything drained out of him and an immeasurable relaxation washed through his body like he’d never felt before.
He slumped, spent, heart pounding, mouth panting, completely wrung out. His mind trickled back slowly, becoming aware of Sanji moving. He cracked open his eye and saw Sanji jerking himself off, the taut ring of his finger and thumb moving rapidly over his straining erection. He was so gorgeous like this, pretty little cock red from arousal, twisted face fully exposed, body flushed with desire, desperate and wanting.
Zoro got his limbs to move, knocking Sanji’s hand away from himself. He grasped Sanji’s cock with his own forefinger and thumb, his other fingers fanning out. He began masturbating Sanji with quick, firm strokes, watching him writhe beneath Zoro’s touch. Zoro wanted to keep him here, spread in front of him, impaled on Zoro’s cock. He wanted to watch Sanji be pleasured over and over again. He’d gone from wanting nothing to wanting it all. It was a potent feeling, euphoric. Completely out of his control.
He watched as Sanji’s breath caught, his body tensing, clenching around Zoro’s semi-soft cock. He came with a throaty cry, spilling over Zoro’s fingers and onto himself. “So pretty,” Zoro murmured with a cracked voice. Fuck, he was so pretty when he came. Pretty all the time. Gorgeous.
Sanji blinked open his eyes, mouth slack, breathing heavily. Zoro swiped his thumb through the mess in Sanji’s blond curls. He was still seated within Sanji, his cock feeling warm and snug. He watched as Sanji fully came back to himself before asking, “Is it always like this?”
Sanji’s lips curved in a smile. “Hope so.”
The answer made Zoro’s heart hitch. He already knew this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing, but to hear it outloud, even abstractly, warmed him all over. “Yeah, me, too.”
Sanji beckoned him closer, and Zoro rose over him. His cock slipped from Sanji’s ass with a wet squelch, which turned his cheeks red and made Sanji laugh. He tugged Zoro down on top of him and into a smiling kiss.
They moved the plate of meat and cheese to the bed and gathered their discarded drinks from where they’d rolled. Zoro had to catch the beer with his mouth when he uncapped it and it frothed over. Sanji laughed again. Zoro wanted to get used to hearing its sound. They sat beside each other on the bed, eating, shoulders bumping, comfortable and relaxed. Sanji extolled the virtues of cheese until Zoro called him a mouse. Then, they wrestled a little and kissed a little more.
By the time they curled up to go to sleep, dawn was breaking over the horizon. Zoro tugged Sanji close, wrapping him tightly within the confines of Zoro’s arms. Zoro nuzzled his nose into the back of Sanji’s hair and sighed contentedly. He felt safe, and secure, and happy.
They crawled out of bed around lunch, fought in the shower, broke the faucet and caused a flood. Laughing, Sanji threatened to stuff Zoro’s cock in the pipe until maintenance came. A towel was used instead, and then Zoro was chasing Sanji around the hotel room until maintenance knocked on the door.
“Hold on,” Sanji shouted, unpinning Zoro from the floor. He slapped Zoro on the bare ass. “Get dressed, love moss.”
Zoro scowled at the smack. “I let you win.”
“Of course you did.” Sanji grinned unrepentantly. He fetched his clothes where they’d been moved, on the dressing table, and pulled them on.
Zoro rose and dressed. He secured his katanas around his waist. Sanji grabbed his cigarettes and lighter before answering the door. He apologized smoothly, “We’re sorry to be a bother. The faucet broke off when I turned it on. It must’ve been loose.” Several Beli exchanged hands.
“It is no problem, sir. The hotel is old, faulty.” The maintenance man winked. “I shall fix it immediately and then housekeeping will be by, to tidy the room.”
“Thank you,” Sanji said, and snagged Zoro’s hand before going out the door.
“I’m hungry,” Zoro said, as they rode the lift to the lobby. The meat and cheese plate was a long time ago.
“Want to go back to that seafood place or try somewhere else?” Sanji asked. He flirted with the desk clerk with hearts in his eyes as they walked by, even though he and Zoro were holding hands. “Hello, lovely clerk. Your uniform looks ravishing on you.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. Same Sanji. Zoro was glad that he hadn’t changed after last night. “She doesn’t want you salivating on her, love cook.”
“I’m not salivating.” Sanji kicked him in the calf before simpering at the clerk. “I am admiring elegance when I see it.”
The desk clerk didn’t bat an eyelash. “Have a good afternoon, sirs.”
Zoro tugged Sanji outside. The mid-day heat immediately bore down upon them. Zoro was glad he’d left his blue shirt unbuttoned again. “Let’s go somewhere you’d like, as long as I don’t have to button my shirt.”
Sanji thought for a moment, then picked a direction and started walking. “There’s a West Blue-inspired place I passed while restocking. It’s a hike, but we can’t go back to the room for several hours. You made a mess.”
“You’re the one who knocked me into the faucet,” Zoro said.
“You’re the one who got soap in my eyes.” Sanji led the way, keeping his hand in Zoro’s.
The crowd of people on the streets flowed around them. Hawkers beckoned toward storefronts, buskers played on the corner. The sun beat down on their heads. Humidity was high between the tall buildings. Sanji zigzagged down alleys and along interconnecting streets. Zoro was lost after the first turn. His stomach rumbled. “How far away is this place?”
“Not far now,” Sanji said, tugging Zoro by the hand down another alley. “A couple more streets and–”
“Ho-ho. What have we here?” A voice spoke up from the shadow of an arched doorway. “Couple of fags coming down my alley.”
Sanji pulled up short. A big man stepped from the shadows, twice as tall as them both, head shaved with a thin mustache. He wasn’t alone. Several other men emerged from sheltered doorways along the alley, all big, all shaven-headed. Several had tattoos inked on their arms, necks, and faces.
“What do you say, gang?” the first man asked his crew. “Should we show these fags how real men act?”
Zoro felt a small tremor in his hand and glanced over at Sanji. Sanji looked livid. Emotion swirled around him, and Zoro watched as Sanji’s left eyebrow shifted on its own, rolling up until it curled near his temple. He turned to Zoro, his mouth a tight line. “I’ll handle this.”
Zoro nodded, releasing Sanji’s hand, stepping back. He crossed his arms over his chest.
The leader laughed darkly. “Guess we know who the little bitch is in the relationship.”
Zoro felt a growl building in his chest, but Sanji spoke, his words clipped and sharp. “You do not get to talk about him like that.”
“Don’t worry, faggot. When we’re done with you, we’ll stomp him, too.”
Sanji suddenly disappeared. He was in front of Zoro one second, and then he was gone. Zoro blinked, the leader started in surprise. “Where the fuck did he go?”
“Right here.” Sanji appeared behind the brute, his leg lit with blue flame. “Ifrite Jambe: Bœuf Burst.”
Sanji twisted his hips, his flamed leg raising, and he slammed a powerful side-kick into the center of the leader’s back. An explosion of power erupted, causing the buildings’ walls to crack on either side of them. The leader went flying with a scream. Zoro’s haki allowed him to dodge as the leader shot past him, out of the alley, through the wall of the building across the street. He heard screams coming from inside the building and saw a hole blown out the other side. He could look straight through to the street beyond.
Zoro turned back as Sanji vanished again. He popped up above another gang member, the heel of his lit foot crashing down onto the man’s left shoulder, nearly taking his arm clean off. “Ifrit Jambe: Basse Côte!”
Sanji blinked away and reappeared above someone else. “Ifrit Jambe: Paleron!” His heel connected with the new person’s right shoulder, hammering the man into the street.
The other five gang members screamed in fear and tried to flee. Sanji was too fast, too vicious. Blood flew, bones snapped, bodies crashed into walls and onto the street. There was no mercy. When the short fight was done, Sanji landed quietly in front of Zoro, the flames around his leg extinguishing. His eyebrow still curled the wrong direction. He reached out and brushed his thumb along Zoro’s temple. It came away with a spatter of someone’s blood.
Zoro’s heart was pounding hard in his chest. He was finding it difficult to breathe. Sanji’s fighting was amazing. He knew the genetic modifications had enhanced Sanji’s abilities, but he’d never seen it first hand. And this was against a bunch of weak thugs. What would Sanji look like fighting against a powerful opponent? What had he looked like fighting against Queen?
“You okay?” Sanji asked, sounding gruff. He wiped his bloody thumb on his pants.
“I love you,” Zoro blurted, which was way too soon but probably would be true in the long run.
Sanji appeared startled and his eyebrow curled downward, back where it belonged. Then, his expression turned soft, tender. “Sweet marimo. Did my fighting turn you on?”
“Yes. No. Yes.” Zoro floundered. “You, with the kicking, and the power, and the disappearing and reappearing, and the kicking…” Shit, he sounded so stupid.
Sanji smiled, wrapping an arm around Zoro’s waist, pulling him closer. “You are adorable, love moss.”
Embarrassment rolled over Zoro and he snarled defensively, “I’m not adorable!”
“Hn. You are.” Sanji kissed the tip of his nose, which caused Zoro to squawk exactly like Sanji had back at the hotel. “My adorable little love moss.”
Zoro fumed. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I’m hurt. From love to hate in less than a minute.” Sanji chuckled and brushed a kiss against Zoro’s lips. “C’mon, all this fighting’s made me hungry.”
“M’gonna kick your ass,” Zoro grumbled, as Sanji took his hand again and led him out of the alley.
“Sure you are.”
Zoro was, but he was also hungry and still flustered. He preferred it when he was oblivious to Sanji, when Sanji was nothing more than a nakama who annoyed the shit out of him. He was also lying badly to himself. “Stupid cook,” he muttered.
Sanji laughed.
Dinner included food spicy enough to make Zoro’s eye water, lots of brown rice, leafy greens, and Brook.
Zoro had tensed the moment he’d seen Brook’s afro across the restaurant when they’d entered. Sanji glanced at Zoro, then gently squeezed his hand before releasing him. “I won’t say anything, marimo,” he murmured before striding across the restaurant to greet Brook’s pleased beckon.
“Yo-ho-ho! I did not expect to see you two together,” Brook said, as Sanji joined him at his small table.
Sanji gestured for Zoro to take the seat opposite Brook. “Our intrepid swordsman took a tour of the rainforest yesterday, so I thought I’d keep an eye on him.”
“Oh, my,” Brook said. Sanji asked before stealing a chair from another table, pulling it up to the side of Brook’s. “What was the rainforest like, Zoro-san?”
“Shitty,” Zoro said dryly.
A laugh startled from Sanji, the bright one. It caused Zoro to smile a little and relax. This thing with Sanji was too new, too big, for Zoro to want to expose it yet. He wanted to be certain of his own footing before sharing it with his nakama. Sanji took the reins and made it so Zoro could feel comfortable around Brook. It made Zoro like Sanji even more.
“Zoro met one of the local inhabitants and it wasn’t the most pleasant of situations,” Sanji said, with a short smile. “But it worked out in the end.”
The restaurant was small, with two or four person square tables, narrow chairs, and swinging doors leading to the kitchen. Green lantern lights hung from the ceiling. The tiled floor was a blue and black mosaic. The scent of spice wafted from the kitchen each time a server pushed through the door. The clack of utensils and the low hum of conversation filled the room.
Brook had already ordered, and Zoro made Sanji pick for him. The food came shortly. Sanji ordered milk for both him and Zoro, and Brook had his own glass. Zoro was grateful to have it after the first spicy bite. “Did they cut off your leg and add it to this?” Zoro commented, after gulping his milk down, leaving a mustache.
Sanji stared at Zoro quizzically for a second. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. “You made a joke!”
“Yo-ho-ho! Zoro-san knows how to tell jokes?” Brook said, grinning with his skull teeth. “Will wonders never cease!”
Zoro scowled at them both. “I know how to be funny.”
Sanji snorted. “Uh-huh.”
“Zoro-san, while your flat humor is appreciated by some, I do not think we would classify it as ‘funny,’” Brook said.
“It’s going to be funny when I cleave your face in two,” Zoro told Brook.
Brook yo-ho’d again. “That is the humor I am speaking about.”
Conversation fell into who told the best jokes out of the Straw Hats crew, with Brook sharing a few of the more ribald ones he’d heard. Dinner flew by, Zoro growing used to the spiciness of the food. Sanji was relaxed and happy, such a vast difference from how he’d used to be even around friends. The underlying anxiousness and the need to please that Zoro had always seen in him had vanished. The confident, settled feeling that had roused Zoro’s interest was on full display. Zoro really liked this Sanji. He hoped that Sanji liked him back.
It seemed silly, since they’d had sex and spent the night sleeping wrapped around each other, for Zoro to worry about Sanji liking him. But they’d never really talked about it. Zoro wasn’t the greatest conversationalist, but when it was important he could talk. Sanji was important. This was important. He wanted to get Sanji alone again and find out how he felt.
Sanji glanced over at Zoro, a smile briefly crinkling his visible eye as he spoke with Brook. He was so fucking gorgeous. Why everyone in the restaurant wasn’t falling over themselves to be with Sanji was unknown. Zoro felt lucky that Sanji had even looked his way with returned interest, back in the rainforest. Sanji could have been offended. He could have been only into girls. Zoro wanted to thank whomever had enticed Sanji to take a chance with the guys, too.
Brook treated them to dinner. “I love showering my nakama with gifts. It makes my heart sing. And I don’t even have a heart, because I’m a skeleton! Yo-ho-ho!”
“And you call my jokes bad,” Zoro muttered, earning him a kick in the shin beneath the table. He scowled at Sanji, but Sanji wasn’t looking at him.
“That’s kind of you, Brook,” Sanji said, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. “What will you be up to for the rest of today?”
“Oh, I thought I would take these old bones on a tour of the breweries.”
Zoro’s ears perked. “Breweries?”
“Yo-ho-ho. Yes, there are several local ones on the island,” Brook said. “There is a hashigo wo suru that includes all of them.”
Climbing the ladder by tasting the beers at the different breweries sounded like a great idea to Zoro. “Count me in.”
Sanji appeared amused. “Brook, if you would take charge of our mosshead. I’ve been wearing these clothes since yesterday and would very much like to change.”
“Of course, Sanji-san. You may count on me,” Brook said.
Zoro was surprised. Sanji was leaving him? Shit, that sounded clingy even in his own mind. It was good that Sanji was leaving him. “Prissy cook.”
Sanji’s visible eye narrowed. “Watch it, shit swordsman.”
“And we shall be leaving, before you two destroy this lovely taste of the West Blue.” Brook stood and hooked his shikomizue over his wrist. “Let us be off, Zoro-san. The breweries await!”
Zoro stood and glanced awkwardly at Sanji, as Brook headed for the door. “Uh, bye.”
Sanji smiled softly, knowingly. “Sweet marimo. Go, have fun.”
Zoro felt his cheeks heat. Shit, he was pathetic. He turned on his heel and stomped out of the restaurant. He caught up to Brook outside the door. “How far are these breweries?”
“Not far, my friend.” Brook started walking down the street. “Soon, we shall be tasting our way up the ladder.”
The afternoon with Brook was a lot of fun. The beer was good, the conversation sparse, and the company enjoyable. They went on the hashigo wo suru with a small group of tourists and businessmen out on the town. One of the businessmen kept eyeing Zoro until Zoro flashed his sword. He hadn’t known what that was about, but he didn’t like it.
“Where did you two stay last night?” Brook asked, once the tour was over. “Not in the rainforest, I hope.”
“Nah. We got a room at some hotel near this club called Beta Moon.” Zoro wondered if the room had been repaired and cleaned by now. “It has this jacuzzi tub with jets. I’ll have to see if Franky can install them in our tub on the Sunny.”
“A jacuzzi tub, how fancy.” Brook yo-ho’d again. “Sanji-san must’ve been in heaven.”
“Eh, I guess. Don’t think he can feel the jets the same way anymore, though.”
“Oh?” Brook gazed at Zoro quizzically.
Zoro rubbed behind his ear, where a mosquito had decided to have a snack. “His exoskeleton. I thought everyone knew about it.”
“Ah, yes. His genetic modifications. A blessing and a curse,” Brook said.
“Why is it a curse?” Zoro asked curiously. “I thought it’d be great. More power, get hurt less, and have you seen him fight now? It’s insane.”
Brook adjusted the flamboyant ascot around his neck. “How much has Sanji-san told you about his past?”
“Enough that I’ll probably kill his family if I ever see them,” Zoro said, tamping down on the rage that coiled like a venomous snake in his gut. “Why?”
“Then you know he does not wish to be a Vinsmoke and yet it was forced upon him anyway.” Brook tapped his cane on the ground. “Sanji-san is the kindest, most caring person I have ever met. The fact that he must suffer every day, knowing that vile man has tainted him, is the curse.”
“He’s stronger than you think,” Zoro said. He knew Sanji was at peace with himself, even if his body may sometimes trouble him as Brook implied.
“Of that, I have no doubt,” Brook said. “Come, Zoro-san. Let us find this hotel of yours. If it is as nice as you say, I might stay the night.”
The thought of Brook staying at the same hotel as Zoro and Sanji, where they might have sex again, made Zoro’s shoulders tense. “It’s not that great.”
“Yo-ho-ho, does Zoro-san want Sanji-san all to himself?”
“What?!” Zoro panicked. It was too much. He didn’t want people to know. He wasn’t ready. It was too new. It was too fragile. If they knew, they’d talk about him. They’d want to talk to him about it. They’d want to talk about his emotions. Fear launched into his throat. “No. No. Why would you say that? I hate him. A lot. More than anything. More than chocolate.”
“So you do not mind, then, if I stay with you both?” Brook said, sounding bemused. “I do like a jacuzzi tub.”
Zoro’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Brook had been asking to stay with them, not commenting on the idea that Zoro wanted alone-time with Sanji because he liked Sanji. Shit. “You’ll have to ask the cook. It’s his room.”
“Indeed I shall, then,” Brook said. He motioned with his arm for them to proceed. “Shall we?”
Zoro fell into step with Brook, his mind spinning, emotions volatile, fear still clogging his throat. This thing with Sanji was big. Too big. Zoro was changing and he didn’t like it. He felt out of control. He felt like he wasn’t being his own person. He was thinking about Sanji all the time. He felt clingy, needy. It unnerved him.
Maybe this was too fast. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe he didn’t like Sanji like he thought. Maybe he was confused. Maybe what he liked was Sanji’s genetic modifications and not Sanji himself. Maybe this whole thing had been a mistake. Maybe he needed to rethink this entire Sanji thing.
By the time Zoro and Brook reached the hotel – Brook having asked directions to the Beta Moon Club, which made it easy to locate – Zoro had worked himself up into an overwhelming emotional freakout. Brook paused at the hotel door, reading the sign, as Zoro continued in. “Ah, Zoro-san, perhaps I should wait in the lobby until you speak with Sanji-san.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Zoro didn’t even pause his steps, heading right for the lift. He needed to find Sanji. He needed to tell Sanji that this was over. That this was wrong. That he couldn’t handle this.
Zoro knocked on the door to the room he and Sanji were staying in. He didn’t have the key. He didn’t even know if Sanji was back yet. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Zoro could just avoid him forever.
The door opened, and Sanji was standing in front of him with a bright smile. “Hey, you’re back.” He walked away from the door, leaving it open for Zoro to come in. “Did you have a good time?”
Zoro entered the room, letting the door shut behind him. He stopped near the couch, heart jackhammering uncomfortably in his chest. His shirt felt like it was choking him, even though it was unbuttoned. “Uh, yeah.”
“Good.” Sanji motioned to the bedroom. “I brought you a change of clothes. I thought we might go back to the club–”
“I can’t do this,” Zoro blurted, interrupting him. Fear held him hostage, trapping him in a negative, self-destructive loop. He had to get out of this. Had to get away. It didn’t matter how. “This. You. Us. I can’t. This is wrong. We shouldn’t have done this.”
Sanji’s smile faded and he grew very still. “What are you saying, Zoro?”
“This was a mistake.”
Sanji flinched as if he’d been slapped. “Oh.” A sheen appeared in his visible eye and he blinked rapidly before looking down. “Okay. I’m, uh, going to go. You can have the room.”
He walked past Zoro quickly. Zoro heard the door open and close behind him. Zoro was alone.
The silence was deafening. Zoro’s heart still jackhammered. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Zoro hurried into the bathroom, turned on the sink, and splashed cold water on his face. His shoulders and neck felt tense. As he reached for a towel, his eye caught sight of the fixed faucet in the shower. He heard Sanji’s laughter, clear and bright and happy, ringing in the hotel room as Zoro chased him around.
Everything came crashing down on Zoro. Grief and shame gripped him hard, shaking him out of his self-destructiveness. What had he done? Why had he done that? How could he let himself get out of control like that?
“Fuck!” Zoro threw a punch at the mirror, shattering it with his fist. He’d let fear win. He’d been a coward. He knew – knew – that emotional anxiety could get the better of him. He knew it could make him do things he really didn’t want, say stuff he didn’t believe. It could turn him cruel or cause him to say anything to escape something too emotional. It’s why he didn’t let himself get too close to anyone. It’s why he avoided groups of people. It’s why he kept to himself as much as possible.
He watched the blood drip down his knuckles, saw Sanji’s nosebleed as he lay sprawled before Zoro in bed, gorgeous and wanting. Wanting Zoro. Pain lanced through Zoro’s heart. What had he done? He liked Sanji. Really liked Sanji. Probably even loved him, because Zoro didn’t do halfway. And Zoro had chased him away because he got fucking scared.
Maybe he could catch Sanji. Apologize. Explain. Maybe Sanji would understand.
Zoro ran for the door, out into the hall, to the stairs beside the lift. He thundered down them, all thoughts focused on finding Sanji. He had to make this right. Had to tell Sanji that it wasn’t a mistake.
He burst into the lobby and ran past Brook, who was standing near the desk. Zoro shoved through the hotel’s outer doors and ran out onto the street. “Cook? Cook!” Zoro called, looking in both directions, hoping to see a familiar blond head. “Sanji!”
“He left, Zoro-san,” Brook said, coming up behind him. “He ran past me, looking devastated, over a minute ago.”
A crushing pain gripped Zoro’s chest. He was too late. He would never find Sanji in the city.
“You appear rather upset as well, Zoro-san,” Brook said quietly. “Would you like to speak about it?”
“No.” Misery settled over Zoro’s shoulders. He didn’t want to be around people, especially not nakama. He wanted to be alone. “You can have the room. We won’t need it anymore.”
Before Brook could say anything else, Zoro picked a direction and walked away.
The streets were still crowded, people pressing in on Zoro on either side of him. The tall buildings hemmed them in. Late afternoon sunshine reflected against the glass windows. People shouted to each other, conversed loudly, laughed shrilly. Zoro hunched in on himself, watching the ground in front of him, uncaring of where he was going. The blood had long since dried on his knuckles. He was beating himself up inside his head. He was so stupid. He wasn’t worth caring about. It was a good thing he’d broken it off with Sanji because now Sanji didn’t have to deal with an emotional defect like him.
Zoro’s feet took him unknowingly to the edge of the rainforest again. But this time, he wasn’t lost. He purposefully kept walking, entering the sheltered canopy of the trees. The daily rain had come and gone while he and Brook had been on the brewery crawl. It made the rainforest feel sticky, the groundcover wet. His boots sunk slightly into the muddy earth beneath the fallen leaves and other detritus.
A bright blue frog hopped up the side of a kapok tree. A tapir ran past. Monkeys chattered, competing with the calls of birds. A jaguar eyed Zoro from a tree branch. Zoro stepped on an ant hill and hundreds of red ants ran out, up his leg, onto his belly, biting him with burning teeth. Zoro shouted curses, smacked them, and ran until he crashed into the river, washing them away.
He sat in the shallow water, curious fish swimming up to his legs and darting away. It was starting to get dark out. He would have to spend the night in the rainforest. He didn’t care. He hated himself right now. Maybe something would eat him.
He dragged himself from the river over to a nearby tree. Here was as good of a place as any. He heard the rustle of leaves overhead. “Come and get it,” he said defeatedly.
“You’re right, I’m going to fucking give it to you, shithead.”
Zoro spun around. He saw Sanji land lightly on the ground. Sanji must’ve Sky Walked down through the canopy. Zoro's heart started slamming in his chest. “Sanji…”
“Oh, so it’s ‘Sanji’ now? Right. Fuck you.” Sanji shoved his hands in his pockets. He wore a pale green button-down, rolled at the sleeves, the collar open, with dark gray trousers. He puffed angrily on a cigarette. His jaw was tight, his visible eye narrowed in anger. “I can’t believe you're in the rainforest again.”
Zoro needed to fix this. He needed to make this right. Sanji was so angry at him, rightfully so. “Listen–”
“No,” Sanji said shortly, succinctly. “You’ve already made yourself clear. I wouldn’t even be here if Brook hadn’t asked me to find you.”
“But I need to explain–”
“I don’t fucking care.” Sanji turned his back and started walking. “It was a mistake. It’s over. Let’s go.”
“I thought you had my back!”
Sanji stopped. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t say anything.
Zoro pushed on quickly. “You said you’d catch me, if I fell. You told me that you’d guard my back, always.”
Sanji exhaled heavily, his head dropping. His back was still to Zoro. “What do you want from me, Zoro?”
“I’m scared,” Zoro admitted, making himself say the words. Making himself tell the truth, to let it be out there. “I’m fucking terrified, all the time, of emotions outside of anger. I don’t know how to deal with them. And now, for the first time ever, I actually like someone – like you – and want to be with you. I trust you completely and I thought it would be okay. That I could let go of the fear. That it wouldn’t overwhelm me. But it still did. It got into my head and made me self-destruct. And I hurt you. I hurt you because I’m a fucking asshole who can’t function like a normal human being. I fucking ruined this and I hate it. I hate myself. I was so lucky that someone as great as you would even look at an emotionally worthless shithead like me. And I fucked it up. And I’m sorry. I feel like such a fucking failure–”
“Don’t,” Sanji said sharply, interrupting him. Sanji moved suddenly, appearing in front of Zoro in a blink. “Don’t ever call yourself a failure. Or worthless. You are none of those things. Just because you’re not the same as everyone else, doesn’t mean that you are less than anyone.”
Zoro swallowed, averting his eye, feeling ashamed. “But I–”
“No, I mean it.” Sanji grabbed him by the chin, made Zoro look at him. “You are exactly how you should be and no one, not even yourself, gets to put you down because of it.”
Zoro closed his eye, allowing Sanji’s words to wash over him. Settle him. “Okay.”
Sanji released his chin. Zoro opened his eye again. Sanji had taken a step back and was stabbing his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe. He tucked it into the pack in his hand. Zoro knew he had one more thing to tell Sanji. He didn’t know if it would matter or not, but it still needed to be said. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
Sanji looked at Zoro again, emotions visibly shifting across his face. Zoro couldn’t name them if he’d tried. “You hurt me.”
“I know.”
Sanji studied Zoro silently, seeming to be trying to make a decision. “You have to be honest with me,” Sanji said finally. “Like you were when we first got the hotel room, when you said it was too fast. Sometimes I can read your expressions, but not often. Now I know why.”
Hope sprouted in Zoro’s chest. He gave Sanji the honesty he wanted. “I can try. I can’t always put it into words, what I’m feeling. I can get overwhelmed easily. I get trapped in my head. Then, I tend to lash out or self-destruct.”
“Okay. That explains some things.” Sanji continued to study Zoro’s face. “I know what it’s like to be different than what’s expected or wanted. I spent my life feeling worthless and like a failure. It wasn’t until recently that I managed to stop calling myself those things.”
“Since Wano.” Zoro understood. That’s why Sanji had seemed different, confident, at peace. That’s what had drawn Zoro’s attention. Maybe Zoro was unknowingly seeking that feeling within himself.
“Yeah.” Sanji pushed his hand through his hair, revealing both eyes briefly, before it curtained over half his face again. “I do like you. Very much.”
A smile bloomed on Zoro’s lips. “I like you, too.”
Sanji's breath audibly caught. “Your smile is still so fucking beautiful.”
Zoro felt his cheeks heat. “Yeah, well, so is your face when I can see all of it,” he said gruffly.
“Was that supposed to be a taunt or a compliment?” Sanji seemed amused.
Zoro floundered. “Um… both?”
Sanji laughed, the bright one. “Sweet marimo.”
Warmth spread through Zoro. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Good.” Sanji closed the distance between them, sliding his arms around Zoro’s neck. “What else do you like?”
Zoro’s heart sped up, this time with excitement, rather than fear. Sanji was touching him again. Sanji had forgiven him. Sanji still wanted to be with him. He placed his hands on Sanji’s waist. “I like it when we kiss.”
One side of Sanji’s mouth turned up before he leaned in, pressing a short kiss against Zoro’s lips. “Hn. What else?”
“Uh…” Zoro searched his brain. “I liked it when we danced.”
Sanji swayed his hips forward, grinding against Zoro’s groin. He paused, a furrow creasing his brow. “Why are your pants wet?”
“Ants.”
“Ah.” Sanji chuckled. “This damned rainforest.”
Zoro cautiously inched his hands around and down to Sanji’s backside. The heat in his cheeks returned. “I liked sex.”
Sanji’s visible eye crinkled in the corner when he smiled. “Which part?”
Zoro gave it serious consideration. “It was when your face was all exposed and twisted and flushed and desperate, and your pretty cock was all hard and red, and you were jerking yourself off. You were absolutely gorgeous.”
A bright blush bloomed on Sanji’s cheeks, across his nose, and over the visible tips of his ears. “Fucking love moss.”
“Not so fond of that name, though,” Zoro said.
“Tough shit.” Sanji cleared his throat. “Would you like to go back to the hotel with me? We don’t have to do anything. Or we can go somewhere else. Preferably out of this rainforest, though, before it decides to attack us.”
The thought of going back to the hotel room, getting Sanji naked, and doing things with him made Zoro harden in his wet trousers. But the hotel room was also where Zoro had almost destroyed everything. He might end up having emotional anxiety over having self-destructive emotional anxiety. “Let’s go somewhere else. I need to change pants, but I… don’t want to be there, yet.” Zoro had promised to be honest, forthright. “I’ll probably beat myself up. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was bad at dealing with emotions.”
Sanji pulled one hand from behind Zoro’s neck to cup Zoro’s cheek. “Now that I know, I will do everything possible to make sure you feel secure while still kicking your ass when necessary.”
Relief and a feeling of being cared for filled Zoro’s heart. “You got my back.”
Sanji’s lips spread in a soft smile. “Yes, sweet marimo. I have your back. Always.”
The rainforest did attack them again on their way out, sending a herd of wild pigs chasing after them. Sanji ended up hefting Zoro over a shoulder like a sack of rice and Sky Walking them back to the city.
It was fully dark when they got back, late enough that the daytime crowd had gone to bed and the nighttime crowd was on the prowl. They went back to the hotel first, staying only long enough to use the toilet and for Zoro to change. Sanji had brought him a pair of long, olive-colored shorts and a short-sleeved black button-down in deference to the heat. Brook had left them a message at the desk, telling them he’d be staying on the Sunny.
“I already knew he was on the Sunny,” Sanji said, confused by the message. “That’s where he found me earlier.”
“He’d asked to stay here, with us.” Zoro rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s what started my whole freakout. I thought he knew that we were, uh, together? I guess that’s the right word. And I wasn’t ready for anyone to know because this is all so big and new to me, and then I started to panic over it, and then the fear hit and… you know the rest.”
Sanji took his hand, entwining their fingers. “If you don’t want any of our namaka to know, we won’t tell them.” His lips twisted with self-deprecation. “I’m good at keeping big secrets.”
“I… no? Maybe?” Zoro wasn’t sure. “They’ll probably figure it out.”
“Possibly.” Sanji squeezed his hand. “Not something we need to worry about right now, though.”
No, it wasn’t. Zoro felt his involuntarily tensed shoulders relax. Right now, he was only with Sanji, and they were okay again, and Sanji understood him better now. He had definitely picked the right person to like.
Sanji tugged him out of the hotel lobby and two doors down. Music already vibrated the doors to Beta Moon. It was twice as loud when Sanji opened the door. They went inside, paying the cover charge in the well lit entry. They passed through the short, darkened hall and entered the club proper. The lights flashed, red, blue, and a black light that made everyone’s clothes fluoresce.
The dance floor was crowded. The band from the night before rocked on stage. The snare tapped out a fast, rhythmic beat, underscored by the steady thump of the bass drum. A saw synth buzzed with the melody. Bodies jumped, twisted, writhed as one, the music pumping through their blood. Zoro felt it pulse through him, the floor vibrating beneath his feet, in his body, against his face. Sanji’s smile flashed brightly in the black light and he dragged Zoro immediately onto the dance floor.
Zoro let himself be swept away. Sanji kept his hands on Zoro, keeping him close, keeping him grounded even as the fever of the music grew. Around them, people of all sizes and genders and races and sexualities bounced and swayed and surrendered to the throbbing rhythm. He could taste the sweat in the air, smell the musk of hedonism, hear the thunder of heartbeats that thumped with the beat. The strobing lights caused the dancers to look like they were moving first in slow motion and then with blinding swiftness. Electricity coursed through everyone’s veins.
Sanji’s face was lit with exhilaration. His body moved like liquid, his flexibility on display. He looked powerful and sensual all at once. The pounding bass reverberated through Zoro, possessing him. Eye half-lidded, lips parted, he breathed the feeling of ebullience surrounding him. His fingers grazed Sanji’s chest, his arms, his hips, his thighs. Movement felt effortless, a blend of instinct and sound, driven by the relentless, euphoric heartbeat of the music.
Zoro drew Sanji against himself, drinking in Sanji’s loose-limbed joy, his confidence, his acceptance in himself. Sanji felt weightless, primal, twining against and around him. The crowd swelled and undulated beneath the flashing chaos of light and pulsating sound. But Zoro danced with Sanji as if they were alone, fingertips skimming along Sanji’s sides, his neck, sliding into his hair, pushing it away from his face. Exposed and beautiful. Zoro could lose himself with Sanji like this, radiant and free.
The music slid into a new beat, and they rocked against each other with a reckless grace, transported into their own world. Their shadows flickered in the kaleidoscope of flashing light, the bassline wrapping around them like a living thing. The heat from the dancefloor pressed in on them, sweat glistening on their skin. The energy in the air felt intense, primeval. Nothing else existed. It was only them, the music, the movement, and the raw passion flaming between them.
They danced together, late into the night, feeling each other’s heartbeats pound with the thumping drum bass. Their bodies bent and rolled and ground together in sync with the hypnotic waves of sound. Arousal wound tightly around Zoro’s spine, his balls, the erection straining against his shorts. He could feel that Sanji was as aroused as he was, face heightened with color beneath the flashing lights. It wasn’t like the night before, the desperate want to touch. This was a slow, heavy, deep desire that was intoxicating. He didn’t want to do anything about it yet. He wanted to feel it grow, feel it seep into his bones, into the very depths of his mind and heart.
The music changed again, pulling them down further into the pulsating cocoon that encased them on the dancefloor. The bass flowed around them like smoke, thick and encompassing. Zoro pulled Sanji tighter against him, their bodies swaying in fluid arcs. Sanji’s muscular thigh was between Zoro’s legs, his arms twined around Zoro’s neck, his gaze heavy and dark with hunger. Zoro’s hands slid down Sanji’s strong back to cup his ass, promise brewing between them. Zoro’s emotions, so traitorous at times, felt in harmony with him. He would have Sanji again, see him naked and gorgeously wanting, feel his body, hear him cry with ecstasy. Then, Zoro would allow himself to get lost, to be swallowed by the emotional haze of lust, knowing that Sanji would protect him, reminding him that there was nothing to fear.
Zoro’s mouth found Sanji’s, sealing the promise beneath the dim haze of blue, red, and black lights. And when Sanji whispered, “My sweet marimo” against his lips, Zoro’s heart soared.
The Thousand Sunny bumped swiftly over the water, heading for the island kingdom of Bakunawa Lagoon. The wind buffed the sails and whipped the Straw Hat jolly roger. Dark clouds chased them across the sky. The Pachinko Pirates that had been relentlessly following them since Frost Grove had been swallowed by the encroaching storm.
Zoro stood on the main deck, chaos around him. The large tree swayed, the swing flying, the branches waving hard in the cold wind. The ship rolled underfoot. Nami was screaming at Usopp about something, and Luffy cackled as he latched onto Zoro’s ankle. Chopper wiggled and danced, shouting at Zoro for being an asshole. Franky was trying to involve Zoro in conversation about weight distribution with him and Robin. Brook roved around them, playing a discordant violin tune. Jinbe’s hearty calls about the change in direction thundered down from the helm.
Zoro was overwhelmed. He wanted to scream at them all to shut up, to leave him the fuck alone. It was too loud. Too much going on at once. He couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t figure out why Luffy was laughing, what Chopper was happy about, what Franky wanted from him, if he was supposed to do something about Jinbe’s calls. Brook’s music grated his ears. Usopp’s pleading and Nami’s screeching added to the emotional disarray.
Sanji suddenly slid up beside him, a warm hand on his shoulder, as a heel crashed down on Luffy’s head. “I need you in the galley, mosshead.”
Zoro’s slightly wild gaze shot to Sanji. “Fuck off. I don’t want to help you.”
Sanji’s hand squeezed his shoulder tightly. “Yes, you do. Right now. Before I kick your ass up there myself.”
Zoro drew his katana, coating it in haki, ready to fight. Sanji disappeared from beside him, and the next thing he knew he was flying through the air, a solid, painful kick launching him up to the galley. He collapsed against the wall outside the door.
Sanji’s voice drifted to him from the deck. “Robin-chan, I’ll bring your coffee down in a minute. I need to put the shit swordsman to work.”
“Take your time, Sanji-san,” Robin told him with a knowing tone, before engaging Franky’s attention away from Zoro and the fight.
Angrily, Zoro got to his feet and shoved open the door to the galley to get some booze. It crashed against the wall, which earned him a swift kick against the ass from Sanji, who’d suddenly appeared behind him again. “Don’t break my door, asshole.”
“Bite me.”
The galley was divided into two parts with a bartop with bench seating separating them. The dining area had a large table with eight chairs bolted around it. A couch extended along the outer wall from the main deck door to the door to Chopper’s infirmary. A den den mushi sat on a table beside it, with portholes and sconce lighting overhead. A service elevator to the Aquarium Bar stood beside the door to the infirmary and helped hide the door to the dry storage pantry.
The kitchen side of the galley held a stovetop, refrigerator, oven, wash sink, and plenty of prep and counter space. Storage cabinets filled the rest of the area. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. A partially filled cup sat waiting on the counter.
Sanji closed the door behind him and the noise outside suddenly muffled almost down to nothing. Immediately, Zoro felt ten times better. He still sneered at Sanji, though, caught in the overwhelming emotional anxiety within his mind. “I don’t need you rescuing me, crap cook.”
“Yeah, you do.” Sanji boxed him in with arms and movement until Zoro felt the back of the couch hit his knees. “Sit. Give yourself a second to breathe.”
“I’m not your fucking damsel,” Zoro snarled. “You’re not wanted as a Prince by anyone, not even your own fucked up family. Can’t even do it right there. Prince Failure.”
Sanji’s visible eye flashed with fury and hurt and his jaw clenched. “Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Now.”
Zoro’s fingers itched to pull a blade again, but instead he yanked his katanas out of his belt loop and dropped down onto the couch. He glared up at Sanji. “Happy?”
“Hn. I will be, once you get out of your fucking trap.” Sanji stalked off, leaving him alone, returning to the kitchen. He picked up the coffee pot and poured more into the cup. He added a hint of cream. Then, he started arranging biscotti on a plate, adding it to the tray with the coffee. He was silent, movements practiced, graceful, fluid.
Zoro watched Sanji work, creating another tray with more drinks and snacks on them. The relentless anger that burned in his chest started to ease. He felt himself calming down, coming back to himself. His shoulders unwound, his tense jaw relaxed. The grip on his katanas, resting across his lap, loosened. His brain allowed him to think rationally again. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, he did it again, before he spoke. “Thanks.”
Sanji looked up from his tasks, a smile creasing his face. “There’s my love moss. Want some water?”
Zoro nodded. He set his katanas on the couch beside him. Sanji filled a glass from the tap and brought it over to him. He accepted with another, “Thanks.”
Sanji went back to what he was doing, leaving Zoro alone to drink, giving Zoro additional time to gather his thoughts. When Zoro finished the water and felt ready, he stood and brought the empty glass over to the sink.
Sanji stopped what he was doing. “Okay, now?”
“Yeah.” Zoro corralled Sanji against the prep counter, resting his forehead against the blond’s. “How’d you know?”
“Caught your aura swirling out of control.” Sanji settled his hands on Zoro’s waist. “It hasn’t happened in a few weeks.”
“Hn. Probably because you’re always around, annoying me.”
“Annoying, loving, same difference.”
Zoro kept his forehead pressed against Sanji’s, grounding himself more. “I’m sorry about the Prince Failure thing.”
“I know you didn’t mean it and were lashing out.” Sanji’s thumb stroked along the edge of Zoro’s haramaki, soothingly. “I also know that I’m not a failure. That type of self-hate is out of my life.”
“Still…” Zoro felt terrible. He hated it when he got trapped and couldn’t even control his own tongue.
“Don’t,” Sanji said, seemingly reading Zoro’s mind. “You can’t control it. I know that. It comes with the wonderful package that is you.”
Zoro’s cheeks heated. “I don’t feel wonderful.”
“We’ll work on that.” Sanji’s soothing strokes with his thumb unwound the last of the tension in Zoro’s body. “Robin knows, by the way.”
Zoro sighed. “I think they all know.”
Sanji’s brief silence told Zoro that he agreed. “Does it bother you?”
Zoro thought about it. He and Sanji had been together for a few months now, the fragile newness having worn off. Though they’d kept their relationship to themselves, stealing private moments here and there, the amount of time they spent with each other on and off the Sunny had increased. It wasn’t surprising if the others had figured it out. And Zoro was… okay with it. “As long as I don’t get bombarded with questions, I don’t mind.”
“Noted.” Sanji tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to Zoro’s lips. “I need to get these snacks out to everyone. Want to stay here?”
“Yeah.” Zoro could use a break from people. He let Sanji free, stole some cookies from the tray, and wandered back over to the couch. Maybe he’d meditate for a bit. Or take a nap. Or fool around with Sanji in the storage room when he returned.
Sanji collected his trays, balancing them easily, one on his fingertips, the other on his forearm, and headed for the door. Zoro stopped him before he went outside. “Hey, Sanji?”
Sanji paused and half-turned toward Zoro questioningly. “Hm?”
“Thanks again,” Zoro told him sincerely, “for having my back.”
Sanji smiled softly. “Always, my sweet marimo. Always.”
End