Take Me Home Tonight

by burnwaywardbird

Summary:

Roronoa Zoro thought he had mastered the art of pretending he hadn’t fallen in love with that damn cook. That he hadn’t slowly but surely found himself wanting to make him smile just as much as he wanted to antagonize him. That his heart didn’t do a stupid little somersault on the rare occasion that Sanji gave him a compliment. That he hadn’t been seeking out more and more late-night talks on rooftops sharing a bottle of whatever booze they had on hand. Yes, he had been doing an excellent job ignoring all of that. Well, he was, until he couldn’t.

It had all gone to shit three days ago.

Notes:

Welcome to my first ~*ACTUALLY COMPLETED*~ fic! I've started approximately one trillion fanfics over the years, but haven't finished one - until now!

This is the "ZoSan getting together" fic that will be the foundation of a series of One Piece Modern AU fics (most of which are ZoSan, but not all). It started as a conversation between a friend and I about what the Strawhats would choose for their karaoke song and evolved into... this.

The songs used in here are "Dancing With Myself" by Billy Idol and "Take Me Home Tonight" by Eddie Money.

I mostly just split this into two chapters for ease of reading... I realized that scrolling through 10k words in a single page feels like a lot.

Okay, I think that's everything Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Karaoke had been Franky’s idea, because of course it was Franky’s idea. As soon as the suggestion left Franky’s mouth, Luffy was insistent on making it a reality and his infectious enthusiasm meant that their whole ragtag band of friends was packed into a downtown bar, taking up nearly half of the available space. Even Zoro, surprising himself, was seated at a hightop table, beer in hand. He had zero intention of getting up on stage and making a fool of himself like the rest of them, but Luffy had worn him down into at least tagging along.

 

Besides, he needed to prove to himself that things with the cook could go back to normal after what had happened. That they could at least exist in the same space with the buffer of their other friends. It was a step in the right direction. He could definitely watch the cook make his way across the stage, microphone in hand, and not think about how those tailored pants were tight in all the right places or what it might feel like to run his hands through that sunshine hair, damn near sparkling under the stage lights, or—

 

Damn it, brain, I thought we had an agreement!

 

Zoro tried to focus on his breathing. Meditation. Focus on the sensation of breath in, breath out. Definitely don’t focus on what the cook might sound like breathing heavily in your ear while you touch him—

 

“Fucking hell!” the swordsman swore, hopefully not loud enough to attract any attention. No, not a single soul in that bar was paying attention to him because anybody who wasn’t engaged in conversation had turned their eyes to that blonde bastard, moving so enticingly in time with the music.

 

On the floors of Tokyo
Or down in London town to go, go
With a record selection and a mirror direction
I'm dancing with myself

When there's no one else in sight
In the crowded lonely night
Well I wait so long for my love vibration
And I'm dancing with myself, oh-oh

 

Dancing with myself, oh-oh
Dancing with myself
When there's nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove
Well I'm dancing with myself

Ah, oh, oh-oh

 

Roronoa Zoro thought he had mastered the art of pretending he hadn’t fallen in love with that damn cook. That he hadn’t slowly but surely found himself wanting to make him smile just as much as he wanted to antagonize him. That his heart didn’t do a stupid little somersault on the rare occasion that Sanji gave him a compliment. That he hadn’t been seeking out more and more late-night talks on rooftops sharing a bottle of whatever booze they had on hand. Yes, he had been doing an excellent job ignoring all of that. Well, he was, until he couldn’t.

 

It had all gone to shit three days ago. They had been sparring at Zoro’s kenjutsu gym after hours, as they usually did a few times a week. An empty gym and locked doors meant they could do dangerously stupid things – the type of fighting that really got their blood going. Real blades for Zoro, no pulled kicks for Sanji. It wasn’t abnormal for them to have to spend a little time scrubbing blood off the floor and more than a few nights they had to leave early to take care of a broken nose or a cut that was definitely going to need a few stitches. Neither of them begrudged the other for the injuries – playing rough was why they agreed to this in the first place.

 

That night, the cook wasn’t just playing rough – he was playing dirty. While Zoro was sprawled out on the ground, reeling from a particularly strong kick to the side of his face, Sanji had jabbed at the swordsman’s wrist with the heel of his shoe, forcing him to reflexively relinquish his grip on the blade. In one fluid movement, the cook hooked his foot under the hilt and flicked, causing the sword to go flying to the far side of the room. He sneered down at him – Zoro tried not to get caught up in how attractive that domineering glare made him look – and scoffed. “Not so tough without your swords, marimo. Forfeit?”

 

“Tch, you fucking wish!” Zoro snapped back. He reached across with his free hand to yank the cook down by his ankle. He wobbled for a second but managed to fall gracefully into a roll, taking Zoro with him. They tumbled across the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand, and when they finally came to a stop Zoro lay on top of Sanji, slotted between his legs, both of them breathing heavily. That’s when he noticed. Sanji, laid out beneath him, sweat plastering blonde hair to his forehead, eyes wide, was unmistakably hard.

 

Zoro held his breath. He had gone back and forth with himself for months on end and hadn’t gotten even a sliver of clarity on how the cook really felt about him. For every example he could put in the “loves me” column, he had an equally valid example of “loves me not”. It had been driving him absolutely crazy, ashamed to be pining after Sanji like some high school crush. Every time he screwed up the courage to (ugh) actually talk to him about it, he lost his nerve. But now, here was some clear evidence that even if the cook didn’t return his feelings, he may at least have some kind of… attraction? To him?

 

Cautiously, not letting his eyes leave the cook’s face, Zoro let his hips fall so that he was pressed against Sanji’s erection. The blonde froze, eyes wide. The swordsman searched the cook’s face for some clue on how to proceed. When he found none, the panic began to set in. Maybe I was misreading this whole situation. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything? Just a physical reaction to being worked up. Fuck, I’ve made a huge mistake. Shit, shit, shit!

 

Zoro pushed himself back onto his heels and stood as quickly as possible. “I… Uhm… Sorry.” Zoro hated choosing the coward’s way out, but he turned on his heel and hurried off to the office to grab his bag, scooping his sword off the floor on the way. Roronoa Zoro, how could you fuck this up, you bastard?

 

The two of them had not spoken since. Zoro replayed the moment over and over in his mind, analyzing his memory of the cook’s facial expressions. Surely, he would have made some sort of move if he was actually into it, right? Zoro had seen him hitting on plenty of people of a variety of genders – the cook was always showy, confident, clear about his intentions. Their interaction the other night had been anything but that. That must be his answer. Resigning himself to that reality, he made an agreement with himself that he would stop beating himself up about this and move on from the cook.

 

Clearly, this agreement wasn’t going well.

 

If I looked all over the world
And there's every type of girl
But your empty eyes seem to pass me by
Leave me dancing with myself

So let's sink another drink
'Cause it'll give me time to think
If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance
And I'd be dancing with myself, oh-oh

 

Dancing with myself, oh-oh
Dancing with myself
When there's nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove
Well I'm dancing with myself

 

Leave it to that damn cook to turn a casual karaoke night into a full-on performance. As the song broke into an instrumental bridge, he danced around the small stage, losing himself in the music. He had the whole room captivated, hooting and hollering, cheering him on like he was a real rock star. Zoro, however, was dead silent. With each roll of the cook’s hips, Zoro felt himself coming undone. When he raised his arms over his head and his shirt rode up ever so slightly, giving Zoro a glimpse of pale skin and taut muscle, he nearly lost his goddamn mind. He would give anything to feel that skin under his touch, to have the cook writhing like that in his lap or grinding those sinful hips against his own on a crowded dancefloor. Zoro hated dancing, but in that moment he would have done it if it meant getting his hands on Sanji.

 

Dancing with myself, oh-oh
Dancing with myself
If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance
If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance
If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance

 

“He sure is something when he dances, yeah?” Ace mused, sidling up to the table and leaning his chin on the heel of his hand nonchalantly.

 

“Yeah…” Zoro breathed. And then remembered himself and stuttered, “I-I guess. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

 

Ace studied the swordsman’s face through a sideways gaze, then turned his eyes back to the stage and smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, Roronoa.”

 

If his awkward stammering hadn’t given him away, the heat creeping across his face surely would. He picked up his pint glass and downed the rest of his beer in one go. “I’m gonna get another beer.”

 

“He’s drinking red wine tonight,” Ace informed him, amusement stitched into the lining of his words.

 

Zoro paused, but chose to stay his course. Ace could be such a meddlesome motherfucker.

 

-*-+-*-

 

The intention in getting absolutely shit-faced was to forget about Sanji and his stupid hips. Unfortunately for Zoro, it had the exact opposite effect. In fact, the more he drank, the less he was able to take his eyes off him. Sanji was in life-of-the-party mode tonight – charming, witty, flirting boldly with anyone and everyone (not in the over-the-top way that made Zoro roll his eyes, but with the casual confidence that would make Zoro swoon if he would ever let himself do something as embarrassing as that).  He must have been staring pretty hard, because when Luffy plopped down on the stool next to him, he asked, “Sooo, what the heck is going on between you two?”

 

Zoro startled, nearly choking on his beer. “Dunno whatchu mean,” he lied.

 

“You’ve been staring at each other all night but I don’t think I’ve seen you actually talk at all,” Luffy observed casually, snacking on a mozzarella stick from his paper-lined basket that had been refilling itself endlessly all night with a variety of bar food.

 

“He’s…been starin’ at me?” This was news to Zoro. To be fair to himself, he had been strategically doing his own staring when he felt it was unlikely that Sanji would catch him. The rest of the time he was pointedly assuring that they did not make eye contact.

 

“Yeah! I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. You can be pretty dense sometimes, Zoro,” Luffy laughed. “He’s been keeping himself busy entertaining everyone else, but it’s pretty obvious that the one he really wants to talk to is you. So, why aren’t you talking?”

 

“I…I fucked up, Luf. I messed everythin’ up and I dunno how t’fix it.” Zoro’s words were starting to slur, which he normally would have found embarrassing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. “I jus’ wanna fix it.”

 

“Well, how are you gonna do that if you don’t talk to him, dummy?”

 

Luffy said it as if it was simple.

 

…

 

Was it really that simple?

 

…

 

Maybe it was that simple.

 

“Yerright. Yer…fuckin’ right, Luf. That’s what ‘m gonna go do. Thanks, buddy.”

 

He ruffled Luffy’s hair as he stood. The younger man grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

 

Before he could overthink it, Zoro made his way to the bar one more time.

 

“One mor’uh these lagers and a glass of whatever red wine that blonde over there’s been drinkin’.”

 

-*-+-*-

 

Sanji had fucked up. God, he had fucked up so bad. He had poured so much effort into schooling his expressions and suppressing his reactions, making sure that Zoro would never suspect that he had fallen head over heels for the stupid marimo. And then, in less than thirty seconds, he had let it all go to waste by letting his body betray him.

 

Falling in love with Roronoa Zoro had snuck up on him. He was used to his feelings for others being immediate and intense. He easily got swept up in the object of his affection, letting them take the reins of his heart, no questions asked. It had earned him a decent amount of heartbreak over the years, but he didn’t know how else to be. Or at least he thought he didn’t. His love for Zoro, unlike every love that had made its home in his heart before it, had been built over years, piece by piece, on late night trips to the fire escape to share a cigarette during a too-loud party, on rocky outcrops watching the sun rise during their group’s beach vacation, in emergency rooms waiting for stitches. They still drove each other up a fucking wall constantly – they both had too much fun pushing each other’s buttons – but Sanji found himself craving that intensity constantly. He didn’t get a rush from anybody else like the one he got from that idiot swordsman.

 

They seemed terribly cliché, the things that were holding him back. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to give this up. I should count myself lucky to have what we have. Wanting more is greedy. You’re just some damn cook – you don’t get to be greedy like that. And so he steeled himself against his own feelings and pined in secret. And he had been doing such a good fucking job. And now this.

 

It had been the hand-to-hand combat that had done him in. Normally, the swords guaranteed some distance between them when they fought. When Zoro had brought them down to the floor, something about the feeling of the tight grip around his biceps, the weight of the swordsman’s body against his, the skin-to-skin contact, had tripped a wire in Sanji’s brain and before he could stop himself his body was reacting all on its own.

 

Zoro’s response to the incident had been…confusing. At first, when the swordsman had let their bodies press together, Sanji had thought maybe, just maybe, he was about to reciprocate. The thought was so overwhelming that the cook had frozen, silently pleading with Zoro to just keep going, to make the decision for him. But instead, he had pulled away. Not just pulled away but run away. After the third day of no word from him, Sanji figured he had his answer. He had been right to hide his feelings and now he had fucked everything up by showing his hand.

 

He knew that Zoro was going to be at the karaoke outing. Sanji almost decided not to go so he wouldn’t die of embarrassment, but Ace had berated him over text until he relented. He had spent the whole night torn between trying to avoid Zoro and desperately trying to catch his eye. Apparently, the swordsman was choosing “avoid”, because they had made it late into the night without exchanging so much as a look between them.

 

He was about to give up hope and call it a night when a hand reached over his shoulder to set a glass of red wine in front of him. Before he could fully register what was happening, Zoro was sliding into the seat next to him. “Bought’chu a drink,” he announced, taking a long sip of his beer.

 

Annoyance seemed like a safe reaction for their peculiar friendship. “Since when do you buy me drinks?”

 

“Since now, idiot. You gonna take it or no?”

 

Well, insults mean things are normal. Normal for us at least. That’s good, right?

 

“Fine.”

 

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, drinking deeply and avoiding eye contact. Zoro was the first to break the tension.

 

“You, uh… You were good earlier. Up there. With the uh—whozzat song by?”

 

Compliments? “Billy Idol.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Fuck, this is awkward. “Thanks.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Well, it’s not going to get any less awkward unless you give it a go, cook. He smirked and gestured towards the stage. “You’re not going to get up there and sing for us, marimo?”

 

“You kiddin’ me? Hell no,” Zoro snorted a laugh. Sanji felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He’s laughing. Laughing is good. I think we’re gonna be okay.

 

“Oh, come ooon, mosshead. I’m sure you’ve got at least one karaoke hit hidden up your sleeve,” he teased, nudging him with his elbow.

 

“Absolutely not,” Zoro protested, nudging him back a bit more aggressively.

 

Sanji smirked. “Tch, coward.” Okay, he’s not freaking out over us touching. More good signs.

 

“’m not!” Zoro scowled.

 

“Are too,” Sanji pushed back.

 

“Fine! I’ll show you I ain’t no coward!” Zoro leapt to his feet and started to stalk off towards the stage.

 

“Gimme a show, mossy!” Sanji called after him. Zoro just flipped him off without looking over his shoulder.

 

It was a shorter interaction than Sanji had hoped for, but it helped him feel at ease nonetheless. They had fallen back into banter and bickering so easily, like nothing had happened. They were going to be okay. Sanji smiled to himself as he watched Zoro fumble with the song selector touchscreen. He was curious what the swordsman would choose. He knew Zoro listened to a lot of hip hop – maybe one of the classics he knew word-for-word. He had impressed the hell out of Sanji on more than one occasion with his ability to memorize rap lyrics. That man was full of surprises.

 

Zoro finally looked satisfied with his choice and staggered towards the microphone. When the opening strains of synth started playing over the speakers, Sanji’s jaw dropped. Yup. Full of surprises.  

 

I feel a hunger, it's a hunger
That tries to keep a man awake at night
Are you the answer? I shouldn't wonder
When I feel you with my appetite

 

With all the power you're releasing
It isn't safe to walk the city streets alone
Anticipation is running through me
Let's find the key and turn this engine on

 

I can feel you breathe
I can feel your heart beat faster

 

Take me home tonight
I don't want to let you go 'til you see the light
Take me home tonight
Listen honey, just like Ronnie sang, "Be my little baby"

 

Of all the things Zoro could have chosen, 80’s pop rock was the absolute last thing Sanji would have guessed. Okay, maybe not the absolute last thing, but it was pretty close to the bottom of the list. Zoro was not the best singer, but at least he could carry a tune. He even managed to not scowl the entire time and, good god, was that a smile?

 

As the bridge wrapped and the third chorus started, Zoro gave Sanji one last punch-to-the-gut surprise. A confident smirk plastered itself on the swordsman’s face as he made direct eye contact with the cook, singing the lyrics directly at him.

 

Take me home tonight
I don't want to let you go 'til you see the light
Take me home tonight
Listen honey, just like Ronnie sang, "Be my little baby"

 

Sanji blinked.

 

Holy. Shit.

 

Is he…?

 

Oh.

 

Oh!

 

He was. Roronoa Zoro was flirting with him. Openly. Some might even say shamelessly. He tried to make this fit into what had gone down over the last couple days. Or at least, what he thought had gone down. Shit, how did he manage to misread this situation so thoroughly? Because you’re an idiot, you damn cook. And he is also an idiot. You absolutely deserve each other, in all your idiocy. Maybe you should try communicating like adults sometime. That’d be a trip. He couldn’t help but break out into a broad grin. He didn’t break their intense gaze as he let his face settle into a knowing, flirtatious smirk and started to mouth along with the final refrains of the chorus right back at the swordsman.

 

Take me home tonight
I don't want to let you go 'til you see the light
Take me home tonight
Listen honey, just like Ronnie sang, "Be my little baby"
Take me home tonight

 

As the song faded, Zoro unceremoniously left the stage, waving off a group of their friends who had gathered around him to express their astonishment at his sudden change of heart about participating in the night’s festivities. He was blushing furiously and Sanji caught the phrase “never again!” being growled in Usopp’s direction as he made some sort of teasing comment.

 

God, he’s so cute when he blushes. It pained Sanji that the stupid marimo had gone and gotten himself too drunk for Sanji to make any sort of real moves tonight in good conscience, because dear god did he want to make good on the intention in those lyrics.  But he couldn’t trust Zoro’s ‘yes’ when he was like this. At the very least, however, their little exchange had made it clear that the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless. Sanji finally felt his body relax, a release of tension he had been holding onto for the last three days.

 

When he saw the swordsman approaching, Sanji spun around on his bar stool to face him, leaning his elbows back on the table. “That was pretty impressive, mossy,” he said, hoping the compliment would land as sincerely as he meant it.

 

“Told ya I wasn’t no coward,” Zoro replied, smiling smugly. He stumbled forward to let someone pass by behind him. The movement left them very much in each other’s personal space, Zoro slotted between Sanji’s parted knees. Sanji had to fight the urge to relax and let their legs touch. Is that too forward? I mean… Zoro didn’t seem to mind the closeness though, because even after the path behind him was clear he stayed put.

 

“Cook, I came over here t’ talk t’you about somethin’ important ‘n’ then you went ‘n’ made me go do that—”

 

“Hey now, I didn’t ‘make you’ anything,” Sanji grinned, reaching up to playfully poke him in the chest.

 

“—But this’s important.”

 

“Alright, alright,” he relented, “I’m all ears.”

 

“I jus’ wanted t’… to, uh…”

 

Sanji flinched when he felt Zoro’s warm hand slide onto his thigh – not because the touch was unwelcome, just entirely unexpected. A look of sudden panic came over Zoro’s face. “Fuck, nevermind, I-I gotta go,” he mumbled, pushing himself away from the table unsteadily.

 

Shit, I spooked him. Goddammit! Sanji cursed himself for the misstep. “You okay, marimo?”

 

“’Course ’m okay. ‘m leavin’. Night, ero-cook!” He took a few steps and nearly toppled over when he collided with a chair.

 

Fucking hell, moss… We were actually getting somewhere. Get your head out of your ass. And please don’t die by drunken mishap before we can finish this conversation.  Sanji let out an exasperated sigh as he watched Zoro unsuccessfully try to right himself. They’d have to pick this conversation up tomorrow – now he had to worry about taking care of his sloppy-drunk-not-boyfriend. Why was he in love with this idiot again?

 

“Oi, you’re not going anywhere like that. You’ll take three wrong turns and end up at the bottom of the fucking river.”

 

“’m fine.”

 

“No, you’re not, idiot. Now sit your ass down. I’m gonna find your jacket and we’re gonna get a cab.”

 

“I don’t need—”

 

“Can it, algae-for-brains. If I’m gonna babysit your drunk ass, the least you could do is be grateful.” Sanji gave him his best move-an-inch-and-I’ll-end-you glare before heading to the bar to close out their tabs. Well, even though there’s nothing fun or sexy about it, looks like I’m going to be taking him home tonight after all…

 

-*-+-*-

 

On his way back from settling up, the cook spotted Ace posted up at one of the high-top tables not-so-subtly staring at Luffy’s newest addition to the “best friend” pool - a lanky, tattooed man named Law.

 

“You know, you could be just slightly less obvious that you’re drooling over Tattoo Guy,” Sanji teased, clapping a hand onto Ace’s shoulder. The freckled man startled, almost knocking over his cocktail. “Christ, Sanji! Don’t sneak up on me like that. And I was not drooling.”

 

Sanji raised a skeptical eyebrow. Ace averted his gaze. “Okay, maybe I was drooling a little.”

 

Sanji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, just a little. Hey, I’m gonna be heading out. Gotta make sure the shitty swordsman’s drunk ass makes it home alive and doesn’t end up lost in a different city.”

 

Ace’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Out of the goodness of your heart? What a good Samaritan you are. I don’t know who’s a worse liar – you or him.”

 

“Oi! Nothing like that – I’m just doing the rest of the group a favor. I wouldn’t want to put this responsibility on the ladies, and all the other men are almost as drunk as he is. I think they call that ‘taking one for the team’. His place is on my way home anyway,” Sanji huffed. “I don’t wanna make a big production out of leaving, so if anybody asks just tell them I said goodnight, okay?”

 

Ace grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “The ‘D’ in Portgas D. Ace stands for discretion, my friend. Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

Sanji grimaced and grabbed Ace’s unattended cocktail off of the table, downing it in one go. “G’night!”

 

He turned on his heel and left before his friend could berate him for the stolen drink. He found Zoro’s jacket slung over the back of a chair and snatched it. He all but threw it at him when he returned to the stool where he had left him. “Let’s go, you damn drunkard.”

 

-*-+-*-

 

The streets outside were busy and they had about six or seven full cabs pass them before they managed to flag one down. Sanji pushed Zoro in first, making sure he was situated before pulling himself in. He gave the driver Zoro’s address and closed the partition, settling himself against the door. As they pulled away from the bar and headed towards the river, he tried to distract himself with looking out the window. Looking at the buildings and brightly lit signs and couples walking down sidewalks in their autumn coats. Looking at graffiti scrawled on brick walls and streetlamps and anything and everything that wasn’t Zoro, who was definitely looking at him. He could feel the damn mosshead’s gaze boring into him.

 

When they pulled onto the highway that followed the bank of the river, he finally broke. “What the fuck are you staring at me like that for?”

 

“You’ve got a, uh… In yer hair…” Zoro plucked a leaf out of the cook’s hair. It must have come from the tree they were standing under while waiting for the cab. He let it fall to the floor; Sanji would have to remember to pick it up before they left. Goddamn marimo making a mess everywhere he goes… When he looked back up, Zoro was staring at him again, a look that Sanji couldn’t read written on his face.

 

“What’re you—”

 

“Y’look good tonight, cook.”

 

“I…look…”

 

“Cook, I think you look good every night.”

 

Meep.

 

“Sanji-“

 

Sanji froze at the sound of his own name, feeling a flutter in his chest from the devastating need dripping off of those two syllables. Zoro was leaning forward, closing in on him. He willed his body to move, to push him, to kick his ass over to the other side of the cab as far away from him as possible, but he couldn’t move a muscle. C’mon, cook, you can’t let it happen like this. Move!  He was watching the scene unfold in slow motion, Zoro’s face inching towards his unstoppably. No, no, no! Not like this!

 

The feeling of Zoro’s calloused hand cupping Sanji’s jaw finally kickstarted his motor skills. His hand shot up between them and his fingertips braced against Zoro’s lips. The abrupt movement caused the green-haired man to jerk backwards, almost losing his balance. For a moment the back of the taxi was absolutely silent except for Sanji’s labored breathing. Zoro’s face cycled from shock to annoyance to concern and finally to… disappointment?

 

“Oh.”

 

The sadness that weighed down that ‘oh’ nearly broke Sanji’s heart.

 

“Listen, I-“ Sanji began.

 

“’S’okay.”

 

“No, hey, hey, I-“

 

“Forgeddit.”

 

“I don’t-“

 

“You don’t want… Was stupid, I-”

 

He glared and snapped, “Hey, asshole, you don’t get to tell me what I do or do not want, okay?”

 

Luckily, that seemed to shake Zoro enough to stop him from arguing. But he still looked so very hurt and Sanji had to stamp down the panic rising in his throat telling him he needed to smother him with reassurance. He did need to fix it but freaking out would only make it worse. He had to be calm, cool and collected. Center yourself, cook.

 

“Oi, marimo, look at me, dammit,” Sanji said firmly. Zoro unglued his gaze from the floor of the cab, steel gray meeting blue. Now that he had his attention, the blonde continued, “I didn’t mean that I didn’t want it. I thought the incident at the gym alone made it pretty fucking clear that I want it. I just… If you’re going to do that, I want you to do it when you’re sober.”

 

“But—”

 

“No buts, moss head.”

 

Zoro looked like he was going to protest again, but let it die on his tongue. After a long moment of consideration, he finally spoke up. “T’morrow though?”

 

Sanji sighed and rolled his eyes. “Sure, you shitty bastard, if you still want to do this tomorrow, knock yourself out.”

 

Zoro’s face broke out into an uncharacteristically open and goofy grin before he slumped over into Sanji’s lap, sprawling out across the entire back seat of the cab. Sanji sneered and shoved at his shoulder. “Oi, asshole, not a pillow.”

 

Zoro just smirked up at him, a challenge in his eye, and slurred, “Wha’re you gon’ do ‘bout it, cook?”

 

Sanji suppressed the urge to dump the swordsman onto the floor of the cab and instead crossed his arms over his chest, watching the waterfront lights whiz past them as the cab continued its journey. Of all the places he thought he’d end up tonight, this hadn’t even made the list – confronting his feelings for his longtime rival-slash-friend because said rival-slash-friend was practically throwing himself at him in a drunken haze. This is not how he had pictured this happening. Well, he actually hadn’t pictured it at all. He had assumed that he’d just keep stamping those feelings down further and further, grinding them out of existence because there was no way in hell Zoro would ever understand them, much less return them. And yet, here they were.

 

But will he still feel the same in the morning? The thought etched a frown deeper into his face. Maybe he’s just acting out because he’s drunk and, I dunno, horny and confused about what happened the other day. Or maybe he doesn’t have feelings for me and just wants to hook up. He—

 

“Oi, cook,” Zoro interrupted his panicked thoughts, tugging at the elbow of his blazer. “Stop that.”

 

He continued to pull on his arm until Sanji was forced to uncross them, sighing in exasperation. Now that his hands were free, Zoro claimed one and pressed it to his chest, resting his own large, tanned hand on top of the cook’s pale one.

 

“Cook.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“T’morrow…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Will ya kiss me back?”

 

“…Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

 

Zoro laced his fingers between Sanji’s and smiled. A moment later, he was snoring.

 

-*-+-*-

 

Sanji thanked every deity in existence that Zoro lived in an elevator building because even just the thought of dragging his ass up three flights of stairs was exhausting. Luckily they had made it through his front door with only one trip-and-fall incident.

 

“Alright, moss, I’ve done my duty by getting you home. You can put yourself to bed, no?” Sanji tried to push past his green-haired companion. “I’m going to pass out in the living room.”

 

Zoro stood resolutely in his way, blocking the narrow hallway. “Whaddaya mean?”

Sanji raised a swirled eyebrow. “I mean that I’m going the fuck to sleep. C’mon, marimo, move it.”

 

“My bed’s way more comfortable,” Zoro argued with a smirk that Sanji would have found much more attractive if he wasn’t so annoyed.

 

“I told you, we’re not doing anything tonight.” Sanji frowned.

 

“Didn’t say we had t’do shit. Jus’ t’sleep. ‘M serious.”

 

“Marimo, I swear to god—"

 

“C’moooon, cook!” Zoro whined, sounding like an overgrown toddler.

 

“What are you, a bratty kid? I’m sleeping on the couch.” He tried again to make a break for the living room but Zoro stood firm.

 

“Why?” he demanded.

Sanji crossed his arms. “’Cause… ‘cause…”

 

Would it really be so bad to give himself this one indulgence? Sanji felt his resolve starting to crumble. Zoro saw an opportunity in his momentary hesitation and grabbed Sanji’s wrist, starting to pull him down the hallway.

 

 “C’mon, cook. Let’s go t’bed.”

 

“Fine. You’re an absolute brute, marimo.”

 

-*-+-*-

 

“Ugh, you smell like a fucking bar; it’s disgusting.”

 

“Yeah, and you smell like an ashtray, s’fuck off.”

 

“At least change into different clothes or something. I’m not sleeping next to you while you reek of spilt beer.”

 

A devilish grin grew across Zoro’s face. He stripped off his t-shirt and pants, tossing them in the approximate direction of a laundry basket tucked in the corner. He stumbled over to the bed in his underwear and stretched out on his back. He folded his arms behind his head and (Sanji was sure of it) flexed his well-defined abs. “Problem solved.”

 

Sanji swallowed hard, eyes roaming over the chiseled muscles on display for him. He had to repeat to himself over and over that he was going to be a responsible gentleman. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

 

“C’mon, cook. Fair’s fair – we gotta be even.”

 

Sanji made a show of grumbling and sighing in exasperation as he removed his own clothing piece by piece, laying them carefully over the back of a chair. It took all of his self-control not to move too quickly, not to give away how eager he was to feel Zoro’s skin against his own, even if that’s all he would allow himself to indulge in tonight.

 

He could feel the swordsman’s eyes on him, ogling his half-naked body. He had to admit, having the marimo be so blatantly lecherous in front of him was quite the ego boost. He decided to allow himself a bit of a tease. He stepped into a patch of moonlight, laced his fingers and stretched his arms above his head, letting the natural highlights and shadows of the night accent his own muscles, curves and angles. He nonchalantly let one hand run down his neck and over his chest in a way that was absolutely in no way planned or intentional or even a little bit suggestive thank-you-very-much.

 

“Cook, I thought y’said we weren’t doin’ anything t’night,” he heard Zoro remark from over on the bed, a little breathless and definitely heated. Sanji cocked his head and frowned, “We’re not. I’m just stretching before bed. Jeez, you pervert.”

 

Zoro rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

 

Sanji grinned and slid into bed, surprised at how luxurious the sheets felt. Then again, the damn mosshead spent so much time napping that perhaps it wasn’t that surprising that this was the one item he would bother the splurge on. Maybe they were a gift.

 

Once they were both settled under the covers, there was an awkward silence.

 

“Uhm… How d’you wanna… How d’ya wanna do this?” Zoro asked, an uncharacteristic amount of nerves edging into his voice.

 

“Do what?” Sanji asked, almost innocently. He had a good guess, but he wanted to hear him say it because the blush spreading across the swordsman’s cheeks was absolutely priceless.

 

“D’ya wanna… y’know… bebigspoonorlittlespoon?” That last part was spoken so quickly it barely came out as words. Sanji couldn’t help but snort in amusement, which only made Zoro turn a deeper shade of red. The cook rolled his eyes and pushed aside the urge to give the lovable idiot lying next to him a peck on the lips for being such a lovable idiot. Instead, he turned away from him and pulled Zoro’s arm around his waist. Apparently, this was the correct answer, because Zoro immediately curled his body around Sanji’s, holding him close. He hadn’t thought the swordsman would be much of a cuddler. Then again, he was a very tactile person, working with his hands and spending so much time getting in touch with his body. Probably not one for PDA, but when they were alone, like this? Sanji could get used to this.

 

He felt a finger hook under the bottom hem of his boxer briefs and skim across his thigh from front to back. He tried to hide how much that touch made him shiver by elbowing Zoro in the ribs.

 

“Oi, pervert, stop trying to tempt me into breaking my own rules. It’s not gonna work. You can molest me all you want when you’re sober.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Goodnight, marimo.”

 

“…’Night, cook.”

Chapter 2

Summary:

“When it comes to you, I wouldn’t be satisfied with just hooking up or whatever. I spent a lot of time and effort trying to stuff down my feelings for you and I’m fucking tired of it. We either have to do this or I’ve got to bury them for good.”

“So then let’s do this.”

“Oi, wake the fuck up. Breakfast is ready.”

 

“Mrrrrhhhh…” Zoro grumbled, shutting his eyes even tighter. It’s too fucking early for this shit. He rolled over in the direction of the cook’s voice. The cook… Oh, shit, that’s right. He cracked one eye open and then the other to stare at the man leaning in through his doorway. Sanji, it seemed, had taken the liberty of raiding Zoro’s dresser for a t-shirt that was far too big on his lean frame. Fuck, that’s too cute. He threw a pillow in his general direction. “Ugh, too early.”

 

Sanji caught it and threw it right back in his face full force. “Fuck you. I let you sleep in plenty. Get up before it gets cold. Don’t ruin my good mood with your ungrateful attitude.”

 

“This is you in a good mood?” Zoro teased, rolling out of bed nonetheless.

 

“Tch,” was all Sanji managed in reply before turning back down the hall to the kitchen.

 

The cook, as always, had outdone himself even with the very limited ingredients and equipment available in Zoro’s sparse kitchen. He had even laid out a little hangover cure next to his plate – a large bottle of water, a packet of the electrolyte replacer powder and a couple of Tylenol. Sanji was thoughtful like that.

 

Breakfast was quiet, as meals usually were between them. Once Sanji had cleared the table, leaving the dishes stacked in the sink, he sighed heavily and leaned against the counter.

 

“So.”

 

“So.”

 

“We need to talk about last night.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, more than last night. We need to talk about this.” Sanji swallowed hard. “About us.”

 

“Yeah.” Zoro braced himself. This was it. The cook was going to blame it all on the alcohol and let him down easy, like the kind guy that he was. At least he stuck around to have the conversation instead of just sneaking out of the apartment before he woke up.

 

“Look, marimo, I don’t want to…” Sanji looked away, embarrassed. “When it comes to you, I wouldn’t be satisfied with just hooking up or whatever. I spent a lot of time and effort trying to stuff down my feelings for you and I’m fucking tired of it. We either have to do this or I’ve got to bury them for good.”

 

Oh. Well. That was… Okay, Roronoa, keep it cool. Zoro tamped down the giddy excitement bubbling up in his chest and instead gave a shrug of false nonchalance. “So then let’s do this.”

 

Sanji brought his gaze back to Zoro’s, a hopeful but skittish look settled on his face. “Are you sure?”

 

Zoro smiled, trying his best to temper his annoyance that the cook didn’t believe him with sympathy for his insecurity. He had been so sure Sanji was going to reject him that he hadn’t been prepared to be the one providing reassurance. “Cook, I didn’t really think it was possible for me to fall in love. But I did. I fell in love with you.”

 

Love. He actually said ‘love’. This was the best possible outcome, and yet the one word that managed to claw its way out of Sanji’s throat was: “Why?”

 

Well, Sanji was just full of exasperating questions this morning. “Whaddaya mean why?”

 

Sanji folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. “Just answer the question.”

 

Zoro sighed, taking a moment to compose himself. He had given this quite a bit of thought, he definitely had an answer, but the thought of putting all out there was a little scary. Here goes nothing. “Despite the fact that you can be an absolute jackass sometimes, at your core you are probably the kindest person that I know. You may not always be nice, but you are always kind. When I think about what I’d want in a partner, I know I need someone who can keep up with me, an equal, someone with their own dreams and passions who will give me the space to pursue mine. And that’s… Cook, that’s you. You challenge me. You push me forward. That’s what I want. You are what I want.”

 

The cook’s shoulders relaxed. He took a deep breath and said, “Marimo, I think that’s the most words I’ve heard you coherently string together in one go. I’m touched.”

 

“Oi! I’m over here pourin’ my heart out and you—”

 

“Shhh. I’m kidding. I really am… touched, I mean.” He took a few cautious steps towards the seated swordsman and held out his hands. Zoro was confused for a moment, but eventually got the memo and reached up to take them. Sanji ran his thumbs over the backs of Zoro’s hands, taking in the image of how they fit in his. Without taking his eyes from them, he asked, “When did you know?”

 

Zoro raised their hands to his lips and pressed kisses along the cook’s knuckles while he thought. “The holiday dinner last year,” he concluded. “I was heading into the kitchen – you didn’t even realize I was standing in the doorway – and I was watching you work, how happy you looked and it just… Dunno, it hit me all at once. Like, ‘holy shit’.”

 

“How eloquent.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Sanji laughed and stepped into the space between Zoro’s knees, bringing the swordsman’s hands to rest on his hips. His own hands wandered up Zoro’s arms, over his shoulders. “For me, it was that time we had to run from the cops after they saw you punch that dude outside of Shakky’s. When we knew the coast was clear and we could finally burst out laughing about it, doubled over in that alley… I felt so fucking alive and I knew I would be happy doing dumb shit with you forever.”

 

Using the back of Zoro’s chair to steady himself, Sanji slid into the swordsman’s lap, straddling him. He hooked a finger under Zoro’s chin and ghosted a thumb over his bottom lip. “You know, I almost kissed you that night.”

 

“Why didn’t you?” Zoro kissed the pad of Sanji’s thumb, running his hands up and down the cook’s sides.

 

“The same reason you didn’t kiss me in the gym the other day. I was scared.”

 

“Well, are you scared now?”

“No.”

 

Their first kiss was nothing like Sanji had imagined it would be. He thought it would be more like waves crashing against rocks, teeth and tongues, rough like it was when they fought. Instead, it was surprisingly…sweet. Zoro held him like something precious and breakable, even though he knew very well he wasn’t either of those things. It felt safe and warm and even though it wasn’t what he had been expecting, Sanji wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 

Their second kiss, however, was much closer to what he had been expecting. The swordsman tilted his head for a deeper kiss, pulling the cook further into his lap by his hips. Sanji gasped at the sudden movement and Zoro took the opportunity to slip his tongue past parted lips. They sunk into a rhythm of push, pull, challenge, tease, conquer, surrender, back and forth. Hands roaming, teeth nipping at bottom lips, fingers tangled in each other’s hair. It felt fierce and hot and even though it was what he had been expecting, it was even better than Sanji had imagined.

 

Sanji was already half hard as Zoro pressed him backwards out of his lap, saying, “Hey, let me up real quick.”

 

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will,” Sanji refused, sliding his hands greedily over Zoro’s bare chest and leaning in for another kiss.

 

“C’mon, seriously! Give me ten seconds and I’ll make it worth your wait,” Zoro reasoned with him, leaning back to pull out of kissing range. Sanji considered the request, cocking his head to the side in thought.

 

“I’ll allow it,” he acquiesced, unseating himself from the swordsman’s lap. “Your time starts now. Ten.”

 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowned disapprovingly.

 

“Nine.”

 

“Are you really doing this?” he complained as he stood to leave.

 

“Eight.” Zoro was now scrambling to get out of the kitchen. Sanji cackled internally.

 

“Cook! Stop it!” he yelled from the hallway.

 

 “Seven.”

 

“Okay, jeez.” Farther away now, probably the bedroom.

 

“Six.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Five.”

 

“Hang on, I just need to—”

 

“Four.”

 

“Found it.”

 

“Three.”

 

Hurried footsteps back down the hall.

 

“Two.”

 

And then Zoro rounded the corner and shoved him against the counter, crashing their lips together before he could even start to say the word ‘one’. When they parted for air, Zoro muttered, “You’re such a little shit.”

 

Sanji grinned. “Shut up; you like it.”

 

Instead of answering, Zoro rucked up the t-shirt Sanji was wearing and pinned the hem to his collarbone. “Off.”

 

Sanji obediently took over pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it towards the table, leaving Zoro free to kiss a trail down his exposed chest and stomach, dropping to his knees. He mouthed over the outline of Sanji’s now achingly hard dick through his underwear, causing the cook to throw his head back and moan, too overwhelmed by the sight down below. By the time he looked back down, Zoro was tugging his boxer briefs down, leaving him exposed to the swordsman at eye level. For a moment he was a little self-conscious, but then Zoro looked up at him and remarked, “Damn, cook. Your dick is just as pretty as the rest of you.”

 

Sanji flushed a deep red and his traitor cock twitched.

 

“Mmm, I see. You like it when I call you pretty, cook?” Zoro asked, wrapping his hand around Sanji and giving it a few languid pumps. Sanji made a rather undignified noise that Zoro had to presume meant ‘yes’. Noted. He’d log that information for later; right now there was something else he wanted to do.

 

“How good’s your balance?” Zoro asked, reaching for something in his pocket.

 

“Decent?” Sanji replied, not exactly sure where he was going with this. Zoro nodded and patted the back of the cook’s left thigh. “This. Over my shoulder.”

 

“O... Kay?” Sanji shifted his weight to his right foot, leaning his elbows back on the counter for better support, and hooked his left knee over the swordsman’s shoulder. From underneath him, he heard a light popping noise and then, a moment later, felt a warm, slick fingertip circling his entrance. His eyes went wide, a gasp breaking free from his throat. When he flicked his gaze down to the man kneeling in front of him, he was surprised at how vulnerable he looked. He had expected a domineering smirk, but instead his face was almost... pleading? That was the closest word he could find for it.

 

“Okay?” Zoro asked quietly, clearly not planning on moving a millimeter until he got permission. Sanji let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Okay.”

 

Zoro wrapped an arm around the leg on his shoulder to steady both of them before easing one finger in slowly. Sanji hissed at the breach but tried his best to relax. While he didn’t have a ton of experience being on the receiving end of this, he knew enough from his previous encounters that the more he could relax, the sooner it would get good. Zoro turned his head and pressed soothing kisses into the cook’s raised thigh as he let Sanji adjust to the pressure. He was absolutely struck by how caring and soft the swordsman could be sometimes. It felt like such a privilege to see this side of him. But there would be time enough to appreciate that later. The blonde reached down and carded his free hand through green hair. He smirked when Zoro’s eyes met his. “Any day now, mossy.”

 

And there was the familiar, challenging glint in the swordsman’s eye that had intoxicated Sanji from the first time he laid eyes on him. “Tch, bossy bastard.”

 

“Fuck y- unnnnhhhh!” His insult was cut short with an embarrassingly loud moan when Zoro simultaneously licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock and let his finger sink deeper inside of him. Zoro’s lips closed around the head and began to bob up and down the cook’s length as he worked his finger in and out of him.

 

It didn’t take long for one finger to escalate to two, and then three. A slight change in angle had caused Sanji to let out a string of breathy curses. Zoro moaned encouragingly around his cock, taking him so deep that the tip pressed against the back of his throat. In a flash, Sanji had one hand gripped tightly around the base of his dick and the other was pulling Zoro off of him by a fistful of green hair.

 

“Don—Don’t wanna—Not yet. Want to—Want you to fuck me,” Sanji struggled to make his mouth form coherent words. “Bedroom?”

 

Without a word, Zoro eased his fingers out, pressing a kiss to Sanji’s hip, almost an apology for his absence. He lifted the leg on his shoulder and carefully set it back on the ground. As he stood, he brought the cook’s arms up to his shoulders. “Hang on tight, okay?”

 

“What—”

 

Sanji was reminded that those muscles weren’t just for show when he found himself swept off the floor like he weighed nothing at all. Instinctively, he wrapped his legs around the swordsman’s waist and tightened his arms around his neck, letting out a surprised yelp. He almost had time to be annoyed and start yelling at him to be put back down, but then Zoro was kissing him and their hard-ons were pressed together, trapped between their bodies, and suddenly maybe being carried to the bedroom wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

 

He busied himself biting and sucking a mark into the space where the swordsman’s neck met his shoulder while Zoro navigated them to the bedroom. When he was laid down on the mattress, he couldn’t help himself: “Wow, moss, I can’t believe you made it all the way here without getting lost even once.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Zoro growled, though his tone was more heated than intimidating. He shucked his sweats and boxers, crawled on top of the cook and busied himself spreading lube on his own cock.

 

“How about you make me,” Sanji challenged him.

 

In the blink of an eye, one of Sanji’s legs was up on Zoro’s shoulders and his full length was buried inside the cook in a single thrust. A high whine escaped from Sanji as his hands scrambled for purchase amongst the sheets. Zoro leaned down to capture him in a searing kiss before nipping at his bottom lip and mumbling, “How’s that for ‘make me’?”

 

He rocked forward, grinding as deep as he could go, before starting to move.

 

“Shit, cook…” His breath shuddered out of him as he focused on the tight heat surrounding him. “I… I might not last long. You feel so good, and it’s been a while since I… I…”

 

“Mmmh… s’okay… Not like it’s our, unh—last chance or anything,” Sanji chuckled. “’Sides, you gave me a head start with that damn mouth of yours.”

 

He reached up to press two fingers against Zoro’s bottom lip. The swordsman leaned forward and sucked them into his mouth, teasing them with his tongue as he picked up the pace with his hips.

 

“Fffuck, it is unfair how hot you look when you do that,” Sanji murmured, reclaiming his hand. Zoro just grinned and pressed Sanji’s thigh up towards his chest, shifting the angle and thrusting with renewed vigor. He could feel all the muscles in the blonde’s lower half tighten and shake.

 

Bingo.

 

Sanji was seeing stars. Every unrelenting brush against his prostate sent a jolt through his whole body. The new pace was insistent, hungry, claiming. He pulled Zoro’s face down to his, crashing their lips together. This was every bit the raw and powerful fucking he had imagined late at night when he let himself give in to his fantasies about the swordsman. Nothing existed outside of their two bodies, joined in a veritable fever dream of pent-up passion.

 

“Mmff… ‘m close… so fucking…” Zoro panted, clinging to Sanji like a life preserver in a stormy sea of sensation.

 

He felt the cook’s lips pressed against his ear, murmuring pornographic words of encouragement. “Nnnnhhh, are you gonna come for me, baby? Gonna fill me up?”

 

All Zoro could manage in reply was a low grunt and vigorous nodding.

 

“Fuuuck yes you are, baby. Hahhh, shit, gonna touch myself so we can come together.”

 

Sanji’s long, thin fingers wrapped around his own cock, pumping it in time with Zoro’s thrusts. His head fell back onto the pillow, golden hair haloing around him, panting desperately. Zoro didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful as the cook laid out beneath him looking so thoroughly, exquisitely wrecked.  

 

“Fu— Hnuh— S— Sanji…”

 

As soon as the cook’s name slipped past his lips, he was sent tumbling over the edge of his orgasm. He ground himself deep, painting Sanji’s insides white. When he opened his eyes again, the sight in front of him left him breathless once more. God, it felt so damn good to make a mess of the man who was insistent on being so neat and clean all the time. He was responsible for the sheen of sweat glistening on his flushed skin, for the come that he belatedly registered had pooled between them from Sanji’s own release, and for the filthy words that had made his head swim just moments ago. He felt oddly…honored, that the cook would let him get this close. Let him see the side that wasn’t pressed and polished and picture perfect. He got to see it when they fought and now he got to see it when they fucked. A side of the cook that he didn’t show anybody else.

 

When Sanji opened his own eyes, heavy-lidded and smiling sleepily in a blissed-out haze, Zoro smiled back and leaned their foreheads together.

 

Roronoa Zoro, don’t you dare fuck this up, you bastard.

 

-*-+-*-

 

After cleaning up and letting Sanji out to have a cigarette on the balcony, the two of them had reconvened on Zoro’s bed, limbs tangled and bodies flush under the sheets. They had been indulging in meandering touches and slow, exploratory kisses when, as was inevitable in their relationship, Zoro felt the urge to tease Sanji.

 

“So… ‘baby’, huh?” Zoro smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Oh, fuck you!” Sanji complained, pushing him away and rolling over to the other side of the bed. Zoro wasn’t letting him get away that easy though. The cook felt a strong arm snake around his waist and pull him back to the swordsman’s body. He tried halfheartedly to wriggle away but opted to pout and surrender to the embrace instead.

 

“Dunno, cook. I kind of like it, at least when it’s surrounded by all that other dirty talk coming out of yer filthy mouth. Which, by the way, Jesus fucking Christ, ya goddamn pervert—” Zoro cut himself off to press a series of hungry kisses into Sanji’s neck and shoulder. Sanji smiled and tilted his head to give the swordsman better access to his skin.

 

“You know, you’ve been calling me a ‘goddamn pervert’ for years, but it sure does hit different now,” the blonde mused, reaching back to run a hand over Zoro’s hip and thigh, subtly pressing his ass back into his crotch. Zoro’s hand slid down to Sanji’s hip and gave it a playful squeeze. Sanji hummed contentedly, letting his eyes drift closed. He must have started to nod off in the few moments of silence because the next thing he heard Zoro say startled him awake.

 

“If you’re gonna call me baby, I feel like you should get a little pet name too. Let’s see…” He scooted away from the cook’s body so he could roll him over to face each other. He caressed Sanji’s face, studying his features one by one.

 

“Darlin’?” he suggested.

 

Sanji shook his head and made a face.

 

“Hmmm… babe?”

 

“Too close to mine; get your own, you hack.”

 

“Sweetheart?”

 

Sanji actually looked like he was considering this one. “…Use it in a sentence.”

 

Zoro leaned over to nip at Sanji’s earlobe.

 

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, you look so hot when you ride me like that. So good for me. Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna see you come for me,” he rumbled, deep and demanding, panting heavily between commands. Sanji couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran up his spine or the blush that spread across his cheeks. He threw an arm around the swordsman’s chest and buried his face in his shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

 

“Yeah, okay, that one might work…” he groaned. “I swear to god, if you ever call me that in front of anyone else though—”

 

Zoro chuckled. “Same to you, curly. That’s asking for an instant ass-kicking.”

 

Sanji grinned against tan skin. “Franky and Usopp would never let us live it down.”

 

Zoro hummed in agreement and shifted them so that he could lay on his back. He slipped an arm around Sanji’s shoulders and pulled him in to his chest.

 

“How do we wanna break the news?” he asked, absentmindedly stroking his fingers lightly up and down the cook’s arm. Sanji shrugged. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

 

From the bedside table, both of their phones buzzed loudly.

 

“Chopper’s post-party check-in?” Sanji guessed.

 

Zoro reached over with his free hand to grab his phone, unlocking the screen and navigating to their friends’ group text. Sure enough, there was a message from Chopper.

 

Doctor Chopper 🩺💊

Everyone alive?

 

✨ Nami 🍊

Barely 🙃

 

🤖 FRRRANKY 🤖

Feelin’ suuuperrr hungover

 

luffy

hungryyy 🍖🍖🍖

 

Robin

Ah, the perks of sobriety.

 

The Great Captain Usopp

i think i left my wallet at the bar 😭😭😭

 

A C E 👈🏼👈🏼😎

shit.

I think I have *your* wallet and left *mine* at the bar. 😫 RIP 💀

 

🤖 FRRRANKY 🤖

Lol

 

luffy

lmao

 

law

…who the hell added me to this group chat?

 

A C E 👈🏼👈🏼😎

(˳˘ ɜ˘) ♬♪♫

 

Doctor Chopper 🩺💊

I’m guessing Brook is already at work, he left early last night…

Anybody heard from Zoro or Sanji? They both disappeared at some point.

 

Zoro looked down at Sanji, who was dozing again, and then back up at his phone. He flicked his thumb over the screen to open the camera app and switched it to selfie mode. Angling the camera as best he could one-handed, he leaned over to press a kiss to the cook’s forehead and snapped a photo. (He would later assert that no, he definitely did not mean to show off the side of his neck where Sanji had sucked a dark purple bruise into his skin. It was definitely a lie.) He couldn’t help but smile fondly as he looked at the picture. He finally sort of understood why people would make pictures like this their lock screen.

 

He’s gonna kill me for this.

 

Zoro⚔️🗡🍙

[img7883]

We’re alive.

 

-*-+-*-

 

A few hours later, Sanji sleepily grabbed his phone before heading to the bathroom.

 

53 text notifications.

 

What the hell happened?

 

He opened the texts from Ace first, seeing as there were thirteen of them from him alone (plus three missed calls).

 

A C E 👈🏼👈🏼😎

SANJI PICK UP YOUR GODDAMN PHONE

AHHH

I’M SO PROUD OF YOUUU

FUUUUCK

Call meeeeeee

Or at least text me?

You’re probably busy banging him right now

I’ll ttyl

But call me ASAP

I want to know everything

Also I made out with Tattoo Guy last night 👀

Okay, if that didn’t get a response, you must be asleep or Very Not Asleep and I’ll leave you alone

Maybe

 

What in the fuck is he…?

 

Then it dawned on him. Bracing himself, he opened the group chat.

 

Zoro⚔️🗡🍙

[img7883]

we’re alive

A C E 👈🏼👈🏼😎

JFC FINALLY

 

✨ Nami 🍊

HELL YEAH! Pay up, Usopp. You have my Venmo. 😏💸

 

The Great Captain Usopp

(T⌓T) sent

 

🤖 FRRRANKY 🤖

Aww, that’s super cute.

 

Robin

Congratulations. :)

 

Doctor Chopper 🩺💊

ಥ◡ಥ) you guys!

 

luffy

zoro! wake sanji up and tell him to make me breakfast.

 

Zoro⚔️🗡🍙

no

 

A C E 👈🏼👈🏼😎

ZORO WAKE SANJI UP AND TELL HIM TO CALL ME

 

Zoro⚔️🗡🍙

NO

 

Sanji looked over his shoulder at the swordsman, still out cold on the bed. He’d catch up on the rest of the group text later. He had things to do. Take a piss. Have a cigarette. Kiss that stupid mosshead senseless. And then kill him. Maybe. Probably not. But before any of those things, he scrolled back up to the picture Zoro sent to the group.

 

[Save photo]

 

[Camera Roll]

 

[Set As Lock Screen]

Notes:

Thank you so much to everyone who's read, kudos'd, commented, bookmarked and subscribed! I've got a lot more works in progress in this AU - unfortunately a lot of the stuff I already have going is "later in the relationship" stuff and I want to save it for later. I've been brainstorming more "early relationship" ideas, so feel free to let me know in the comments if there's something you'd like to see me write that could fit into that category.

I think the next one in the queue might be a short outsider POV fic exploring how the boys have (and have not) changed now that they're together through the eyes of their friends. The idea to do an outsider POV was inspired by "domesticity" by donutsandcoffee (https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325173). Different take than what I have planned, but I love the outsider POV as a device.

I'm so happy that so many people enjoyed the group text bits! They're fun to write. I'm really considering doing a text-fic at some point. I've been very inspired by a couple of Haikyuu!! fics when it comes to text as a storytelling mode: "Write It Down" by an anonymous user (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31142222/chapters/76952720) and "The Chronicles of the Virgin Asahi" by Ellessey (https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596198/chapters/19713490) (which is not a text fic but uses text messaging passages really effectively).

I think that's all for now.
I'm really blown away by how nice everybody is being .+ᵒʰ(つ∀<●)ﾟᵐʸ♪｡
Thank you so much for reading!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of "Take Me Home Tonight" AU