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Sanji pursed his lips. That idiot Marimo was working out on the deck in a downpour. He was probably going to slip then fly overboard, and Sanji was not going to rescue him. Not that he’d need rescuing, Zoro was stupidly dependable like that, but he was not getting wet for that fool. He also had his bandages off, again, and Chopper was going to have a coronary.
Grinding his cigarette between his teeth, ignoring wet and glistening muscles, Sanji huffed. “Oi, Marimo!” He shouted, Zoro’s eyes flicking towards him. “You’re gonna catch a cold!”
“No I’m not.”
Sanji rolled his eyes, turning to go back into his kitchen. “Fine, but I’m not going to fix you soup when you get sick!” Tossing his cigarette butt into the ocean, Sanji glanced back at Zoro. The idiot swordsman had a smirk on his face.
“Yes you are.” Zoro grunted, making eye contact, confident and sure. Sanji glared and flipped him off as he entered the galley, putting a new cigarette to his lips. Fucking Marimo.
“Like hell, dipshit!”
He stomped to the pantry and began grabbing items to make chicken noodle soup. He was thinking about fixing this anyway, since it had been raining for a few days. The entire crew had been mopey since the rain began, walking around the Merry all damp and droopy. Some warm, wholesome soup would perk everyone up a little bit, even if it was just around dinner.
Stupid swordsman. Sanji stormed around the kitchen, getting a big pot to fill with water. Just because they’d… Just because they’d kissed doesn’t mean that Sanji actually cares about that green haired asshead. Just because Sanji knows how tender and gentle those rough hands can be, doesn’t mean anything has changed between them. Running the faucet, he ignores the slight flush he has on his cheeks.
Sanji was still a little weak kneed at the fact that he actually kissed Zoro back. Yeah, he’d been nicer to the shitty moss since Thriller Bark. He’d made more of his favorite drinks, food, and snacks. But that didn’t mean he felt anything different for that gorilla, just because he had an inkling of what Kuma did to Zoro. Because Zoro had taken on something Sanji didn’t fully grasp, but he’d done it for him, for the rest of the crew. Because Zoro had stood so strong and firm, blood pooled around him and pouring from him. Stalwart and dependable and so fucking beautiful in that terrifying moment.
Shit. Shit! He didn’t think Zoro was beautiful, ever, he was ugly and grumpy and he stank because apparently bathing more than once a week was too much effort. Slamming the pot of water on the stove, Sanji grit his teeth and turned the burner on. Women are beautiful, with their hair and curves and softness. Not men. Not for Sanji.
Slumping against the opposite counter, Sanji exhaled a long string of smoke. Ever since joining the Strawhat crew, his life had been chaotic and ever changing. He was used to fighting, but fighting for more than a beautiful woman or a pirate getting too rowdy at the Baratie was a whole new experience. Helping entire towns, and cities of people find freedom and joy was exhilarating and made him smile so big it almost hurt. And being able to cook for all of those people, to share that part of himself, and to see that part of himself make others happy was sweeter than any chocolate or wine in the world. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Sanji stared into the middle distance, eyes unfocused.
That was a change he could deal with. The kind of change where he suddenly felt that being kissed by another man was pretty nice, actually, was harder to deal with. Sanji didn’t care about people’s sexual orientation, love who you love, just do it with your whole heart. But he’d never had questions about his orientation before. Or, any that he let himself acknowledge. Zoro was the first man that ever made him face those questions, instead of letting them flow around his mind and hide in a tiny part of his brain. Fuck him for making Sanji think about this shit. He avoided it for a reason, a reason that he didn’t touch because it was like poking at an open wound with a stick.
Water started to bubble and splatter on the stove top, jerking Sanji back into himself. Reaching to turn down the heat, he cursed at himself. Staring off into space when he was meant to be chopping vegetables, what a rookie move. Stupid Marimo. Grabbing the carrots roughly, Sanji began to make dinner with a tight jaw and tense eyes.
He didn’t let himself think about his biological family. There was no reason to go back there. To the beatings from his brothers and father, to the words “useless” “failure” “should never have been born”. Back to the painful gentleness and love of his mother. To the hole in his heart her absence made, gaping and oozing. To his sister giving him his salvation, telling him to run and never look back.
Sanji had a family now, a proper one. Zeff may be a gruff bastard, but he raised Sanji well enough. Gave him space to grow as a chef, never once mocking him for his dream of finding the All Blue. Then kicking him out of the Baratie, and onto the Going Merry, where he gained the home he’d always wanted, needed. With beautiful, perfect Nami and her free and wild spirit. Robin and her confident, small smiles and all-seeing eyes. Chopper and his big eyes and tender heart, so earnest and kind. Usopp with his ingenuity and stories that entertain them all. Franky’s upbeat attitude and chill demeanor made him feel like he finally had an older brother he could rely on. Brook was still new to the crew, but his music and bubbly yohoho-ing seemed to fit right in with all of them.
Luffy was an entirely separate beast. Innocent and rambunctious, hungry and powerful in a way that was both easy and hard to define. The open joy he snatched from life seemed impossible. Things fell in place for Luffy, but he also never left things to chance. He knew what he wanted, and he got it. Once you were his- his crew, his friend- you were marked by him for the rest of your life. The amount of trust he placed in you was daunting, heavy, but if he trusted you, believed in you, you knew you could do anything.
Sanji took a deep breath. Then there was Zoro. A green haired idiot that got lost in a straight line, drank like he had 13 livers, slept like a cat, and smelled like sweat and steel. Zoro who he fought with over the dumbest things, who never backed down from anything, who cared about them all in his own rough way. Standing in the way of warlords, marines and the world government. Zoro, who had kissed Sanji like he was the treasure at the end of a long journey. Like he was the home hearth of an adventurer that had been traveling for a long time. Like Sanji was the answer to his questions.
Standing back to look at the soup bubbling on the stove, Sanji’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to be an answer for Zoro. He couldn’t. That would mean-
“SANJI, FOOD!” Luffy declared himself, standing in the doorway to the galley, hands on his hips and grin wide and bright. Grateful to be pulled from his thoughts, Sanji grumbled good naturedly at his captain.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s almost ready. Get everyone else in here for dinner.”
----
It was happening again, Zoro was kissing him. Dinner had finished, and everyone had disappeared to their own spaces, chattery and uplifted by the warm soup and good company. Sanji had stayed in the galley, cleaning dishes, tables and counters, humming to himself, warmed by the compliments on his soup. After he had cleaned, he sat down and began working on his meal plan for the next day. Zoro had come in, searching for sake, then decided to stay.
They were on the bench seat against the wall, Sanji once again in Zoro’s lap, where Sanji had leverage and control over the kiss. It was rough and wet. Harsh, where Zoro’s had been soft. If it was like this, if this was just another way to fight, Sanji could stomach it. Biting at Zoro’s bottom lip, and clawing at his hair, Sanji grinned when he choked off a groan.
Arms that had been gripping his hips wrapped around his back, pulling him closer. The hard muscles of Zoro’s stomach pressing into Sanji’s groin. Oh, god. With a breathy moan he wished he could take back, Sanji rolled his hips down into Zoro’s lap, praying to some unknown god that he’d feel an answering hardness. When he did, he broke the kiss with a soft “Ahh.” and wound his arms around Zoro’s neck. He buried his face in Zoro’s shoulder, breathing hot and wet on his neck.
“Fuck, cook.” Zoro gasped, hands grasping at Sanji’s back and hips jerking up. Sanji tongued at Zoro’s neck as he ground his hip down into him, not trusting himself to speak. Not trusting his voice to be rough enough, hard enough. A hand came up to cradle his head, and Zoro pulled him from his neck and back to his mouth. Tongue pushing into Sanji’s mouth with urgency.
With a quick roll, Zoro had Sanji on his back on the bench, pushing between his legs. Sanji, flustered and red, opened his legs with a groan, hands gripping Zoro’s face tightly. Feeling the weight of him, the heat and the strength was overwhelming. He felt surrounded, and god, he wanted more. Sanji began tugging at Zoro’s shirt with frantic hands.
“Get this off, shitty Marimo.” He ground out, his leg sliding up Zoro’s thigh and wrapping around his waist. Tugging down with his leg, Sanji cursed when he felt their erections line up. “God, I want that in me.” He gasped, unable to think.
Zoro pulled back, pupils huge and jaw clenched. “Don’t fucking tease.”
“Does it feel like I’m teasing, you shitfuck?” Grinding his dick up into Zoro’s, Sanji glared up at the idiot swordsman. It had to be now, or Sanji would lose all nerve. It had to be now, or Sanji would tear apart at the seams. With a flurry of movement, Zoro was ripping his shirt off, haramaki following closely. Sanji gave a fluttery smile, quickly unbuttoning his shirt with shaky hands.
Knocking Zoro’s hands away from his body, Sanji bit his lip and began to unbutton his pants. Noticing Zoro’s breath still, Sanji looked up. Eyes dark and intense, Zoro stared back at him with a hunger that made Sanji’s hand speed up. Yanking his pants down gently over Zoro’s cock, Sanji let out a groan as it sprang up, hard, red and huge.
“Fuck.” Maneuvering himself quickly, Sanji bent over to put his mouth on Zoro. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he had to feel him, and had to taste him. He felt himself shiver when he sucked on the head, a moan coming easily from his full mouth. Giving a small suck, he felt the burst of flavor from the wetness there and needed more. Wrapping his hand around the base of Zoro’s cock, Sanji let himself taste and moved his hand.
There was something intoxicating about feeling the warm skin and hard length on his tongue. Hearing the muffled gasps and quiet “fucks” from above made Sanji more urgent. He wanted to feel Zoro fall apart, wanted to see him shaking from it all. Saliva dripping down his chin, Sanji wanted it all.
Before he could get that, gentle hands pulled him back. With a soft pop, Sanji let go of Zoro with a soft whine. “What the fuck, shithead?” he griped, voice thick and heavy. Tugging Sanji up, Zoro pulled him into a hurried kiss.
“Didn’t wanna finish that way.” He said between kisses, hands fumbling with Sanji’s pants. With a dazed nod, Sanji helped in getting his pants and briefs over his ass and down his legs. Standing up to kick them off completely, he laid back down on the bench, flushed as his dick lay straining against his stomach. Zoro stared at him, slack-jawed, before turning and running to the pantry.
“Wh…what the hell?” Sanji sputtered. Zoro returned quickly, gripping a bottle of olive oil. Oh, Sanji thought. He knew there needed to be preparation and lubrication for fucking a man, but seeing it and knowing it was him that need that made his heart stutter.
“It’s not perfect, but it…”Zoro trailed off, faltering at Sanji’s wide eyes. “We don’t have to, cook.” Sanji started, eyes jumping to Zoro’s. He hadn’t realized he was making a strange face as he stared at the hand holding the olive oil. No, it had to be now. He wanted it to be now.
“It’s fine, I buy the high quality stuff anyway.” He blushed, a small smirk on his face. Zoro softened with a pleased grin, bringing his empty hand up to cradle Sanji’s cheek.
“Only the best for our cook.” He mumbled, kissing him warm, and gentle. Sanji melted, arms pulling Zoro onto him, between his legs. God, this was going to hurt.
It took a minute for Sanji to relax into Zoro’s finger, bubbled thoughts and remembered words threatening to stop the whole process. But Sanji wanted this, needed this, so he pushed those thoughts aside hard, locking them behind a flimsy door. When he finally relaxed, and he felt that thick finger sliding into him, he breathed out. “Fuck…”
“You good?” Zoro stopped, looking into his eyes, attentive. Sanji nodded, waving him to keep moving. Leaning forward, Zoro kissed him, tongue licking his bottom lip, then sliding along Sanji’s wetly. After a few careful minutes, another finger nudged against the rim of Sanji’s hole. With a nod and a groan, Sanji stretched at the push, back arching into it. It was just his fingers, but Sanji felt full. Gasping as those fingers began to move, he shuddered. This was going to kill him.
“God, look at you.” Zoro breathed, almost to himself. He was watching his fingers going in and out of Sanji, reverent and hot. Sanji didn’t think he could flush more, but he did. Sanji’s hips jerked as Zoro’s fingers brushed something in him, something electric and throbbing.
“Fuck, what was that?” Sanji moaned, his arms tightened around Zoro’s head, legs spasming. Zoro surged forward, kissing him with a fierceness that Sanji was drowning in. Fingers moving faster, harder now, Zoro pressed against his prostate in earnest. The moan Sanji let out was loud in the quiet galley, but he didn’t care. Breath heaving, face pressed into the side of Zoro’s, Sanji whispered, “In me, Zoro. In me now.”
With a sharp inhale and a quick nod, Zoro pulled his fingers out of Sanji, reaching desperately for the olive oil. He felt empty, so empty after just having fingers inside of him. He watched as Zoro slicked up his cock, cheeks flushed red and eyes fixed on Sanji’s.
“Let me take care of you, cook.” Zoro said, as he pushed the tip of his cock into Sanji. Needing to kiss him, needing to consume him, Sanji pulled Zoro into a desperate kiss. The stretch of Zoro was almost too much, taking the breath from his lungs. But Zoro’s tongue distracted him, and so did his hand, slowly gliding up and down Sanji’s dick. After minutes of slow movements, gentle rocking, and gasped breaths, Sanji felt Zoro’s hips snug against his ass.
He was right, this was going to kill him. Sanji was shaking as he wrapped his legs around Zoro’s back, as he raked his fingers through Zoro’s hair. Zoro’s arms were wrapped around him in an all encompassing hug, mouth on his neck as he gasped along with Sanji. Sanji didn’t know sex could feel like this. Like he couldn’t keep breathing without Zoro inside him. The feel of Zoro pulsing inside of him, his heartbeat. His breath on his neck, his mouth kissing him slow, gentle and deep.
Pulling away slowly from the kiss, Sanji brought his fingers up to drag them through Zoro’s earrings. He felt Zoro shudder, could feel the tension in his body as he held back, letting Sanji adjust to him. Though his body was tense, his hands were still gentle. Gentle on his thigh as he brought it higher around his waist, fingers trailing so softly on his skin. His other hand carded through Sanji’s hair, pushing aside his bangs so he could look into both his eyes. Zoro’s normally stoic, guarded face open like a wound. Sanji saw awe in his face, like he was looking at the most powerful sword in the world. Sanji turned his head to the side, but Zoro followed him, eyes never leaving his face. Looking at Sanji like he was the sun in the sky.
“Move.” Sanji gasped, dragging Zoro into a heavy kiss, so he couldn’t see him blinking away moisture. At the first slow thrust of his hips, Sanji almost screamed. How was he supposed to live now? Knowing he could feel this way? Knowing how perfectly his and Zoro’s hips moved together? Overwhelmed and shivering at the slow, rolling thrusts, Sanji let his head fall back to the bench, eyes heavy lidded.
He was giving as good as he got, meeting Zoro’s thrusts with his own languid movements. Dragging his nails up Zoro’s back, Sanji put his mouth to his shoulder and bit down as his prostate was hit a dizzying intervals. Zoro grunted at the bite, hips jerking in a harder pulse into him. Sanji knew he should be making this more rough and violent, not this tender, slow affair. But he couldn’t bring himself to deny the pleasure of the thrusting heat inside him in deep waves. Couldn’t deny himself the sucking kisses to his collarbone, the calloused hands kneading the meat of his ass and thighs.
Pulling up from a bruise he had been worrying with his teeth, Zoro rested his sweaty forehead against Sanji’s. “Cook, what do you need?” He asked, hips moving faster and more erratically. Sanji hummed at the speeding of movements, biting at Zoro’s lip. What a question, and not one he could ever answer honestly. He needed this to never end, but he could feel the heat in his groin building to a peak.
“Make me come, Marimo.” Leaning up to bite at Zoro’s ear and earrings, Sanji shuddered at the answering groan he got. Zoro upped his pace, pulling back to grip Sanji’s cock in a strong hand, pre-come slicking his way. All of Sanji’s limbs were tingling, and his heart was so loud in chest. He couldn’t decide which feeling to focus on, the incredible fullness inside him, or the thumb rubbing just under the tip of his cock. “God! Zoro don’t stop.” Sanji gasped, clinging to him like a barnacle.
Hand speeding up, Zoro kissed Sanji’s words out of his mouth. The pace was more brutal, more rough as they both raced to orgasm. Sanji couldn’t stop his choppy moans from spilling into Zoro’s mouth, slipping out a quiet “So good, fuck how is this so good.”
“Fuck, Sanji.” At hearing his name, Sanji came so hard the edges of his vision blurred. A heaving sob fell from his lips as he shuddered through his orgasm, come streaking up his stomach and chest. Sanji felt Zoro’s hip jerk tightly, then a strange flood of warmth, which had him curling his arms desperately around Zoro’s shoulders.
With shaking breaths, Zoro buried his head into Sanji’s neck, hips still working in short thrusts. Sanji peppered his neck and shoulders in kisses, humming happily as he felt Zoro’s solid weight bear him down into the bench. He was enveloped, surrounded by the heady scent of sex, sweat and steel. Strong arms held him close and gentle, legs twining together. Sweet and soft mouth coming to Sanji’s mouth, licking tenderly into him. Sanji wanted to open up his chest, his ribs, and take Zoro inside him.
He needed a cigarette. Nuzzling Zoro quietly, Sanji reached out for his discarded pants, groping for his cigarettes and lighter. Zoro’s mouth moved to his neck, his movements tired and satisfied as he pulled out of Sanji. At the feeling of Zoro’s come leaking out of him, Sanji froze.
Everything went cold inside him. The reality of what they just did hitting Sanji in the solar plexus. With trembling arms, Sanji shoved Zoro away from him.
“What the fuck, cook?” Zoro muttered, voice still soft and open. Oh god. The voices of his brothers, taunting him for his sweet little crush on a boy in the town, telling him he’ll never be a man like that. Telling him that they knew he was a failure, but that just proved it even more. The feeling of being broken, and then being told he was broken in an even worse way. A broken boy didn’t deserve love or kindness, a broken boy got beaten and shoved in a cage with metal in and around his mouth.
Standing and frantically pulling on his briefs and pants, Sanji lit up a cigarette with shaking hands. “This was a fucking mistake.” He ground out, voice hoarse and mean. “Get out of my kitchen.
He saw Zoro stiffen out of the corner of his eye, frozen for a moment in time. When it started again, he could feel the rage radiating off of Zoro. With a harsh laugh, Zoro began getting dressed in sharp, stabbing movements. After he jerked his shirt over his head, Zoro grabbed his swords and pushed past Sanji.
“Fucking figured this would happen.” He spat as he stalked past, tone venomous. Sanji bristled, grabbing the bottle of olive oil, doing everything in his power not to throw it, but god he wanted to.
“What was that, you piece of shit?” Sanji snarled, cigarette crushed in his fist.
“I knew you’d freak out, get what you want then pretend it never happened.” Zoro grit out, eyes bright and harsh. Sanji scoffed, acting as nonchalant as he could.
“This was just pity sex, Marimo. You almost died, so I thought I’d throw you a bone.”
Zoro's eyes widened, then it was like a shutter slammed shut behind his eyes. The anger and annoyance vanished, and a calm, blank indifference was left in its place. Like Sanji was a stranger that Zoro had assessed for potential danger, and decided he was beneath his notice. Leaving the galley without a backward glance, he left Sanji without a fight or a fuss.
It needed to be done. It was never going to be anything, never could be anything. Sanji felt himself shaking, hot tears prickling at his eyes. Zoro would have realized, eventually, how broken and undeserving Sanji was of any tenderness, any kindness. That Sanji was only good for cooking and fighting, and everything else about him was worse than garbage. He had just showed how undeserving he was.
With a choked yell, Sanji hurled the bottle of olive oil in his hand at the wall. This is what he deserves. He’d always been told people were worse off having met him, and this proved it. Running on auto-pilot, he grabbed a broom to clean up his mess. He even wasted food tonight, he thought bitterly, sweeping up the goopy mess.
His only sliver of hope, that he clung to with grasping hands, was that given time, he and Zoro could go back to how they were in the very beginning. Strangers brought together by their larger than life captain. If he had just ruined the peace, the joy of his new home, his new family, with a night of ill-advised sex, he’d never forgive himself.
Turns out he didn’t have to worry about that too much, because soon the whole crew was spread across the ocean, and Sanji had an island of nightmares to deal with.