Work Text:
They don't have much time, they really don't. Every extra second they take is a bargain, a bet they take against the odds. Sanji doesn't seem to care.
If he's honest, he himself doesn't care either.
His period had come, his cycle as fucked as it always been with the testosterone shots. He misses them some months, his hormones messed up from the sudden absence of it.
That's when his periods come back.
He usually hates it, hates the mess and the pain and the overall humiliation of having to deal with them again.
Not this time, though. He's happy this time that it comes, happy for the pain he feels on his womb.
It means it's empty.
Fuck, if it doesn't feel nice.
Sanji had known as soon as it had started, had narrowed his eyes at the way Zoro bent more when he stood still, at the more constant meditations to push away the pain.
He'd watched Zoro clean himself later in the showers, coming in by pure accident — or ar least Zoro thinks so.
He didn't look happy at first, a dark look in those blue eyes that Zoro ignored vehemently.
He knows what the blonde wants, still remembers how obsessed he'd been with the idea of Zoro being pregnant. He can go fuck himself for all Zoro cares, carry a child on his own.
But whatever gloom and anger had left the blonde quickly enough when he sunk his fingers in Zoro's cunt, the swordsman gasping at the feeling.
He watches Sanji lick his lips, pupils dilated as he moves his fingers in and out, slick and blood easing his movements and staining that pale hand, wetting his palm.
Zoro allows him this, because he's happy. He could fuck Zoro and fill him up to the brim for all he cares; it wouldn't stick.
The idea makes him pull the blonde close, locking their lips together in a violent kiss. Sanji sighs like it's the most loving gesture he's ever received in his life.
It could be. Zoro might as well love him right now with how happy he is. He could go as far as say it, mutter the words against Sanji's lips.
‘I love you,’ given as freely as the blonde gives them.
Zoro doesn't say it.
Lying is not exactly his thing. Not to others, let alone to himself as the blonde does, obsession disguised as something so much brighter than it is.
He just kisses back, and the only sounds that leaves his lips are moans as Sanji's lips are used to kiss Zoro's folds.
Sanji moans against him, tongue lapping up the slick and blood, muttering sweet words against his cunt like he can't help himself.
“Perfect for me,” is his favorite phrase. “So lovely, ma puce. And all for me.”
Zoro doesn't deny it. He's long stopped trying to.
His tongue pushes inside of Zoro, the swordsman shuddering as Sanji's nose presses against his cock. He looks down, up on his elbows to see the blonde between his legs, and tries not to lose it at the sight.
The blonde has that fucked out expression that he always has when he has his mouth on Zoro, blue eyes fogged up and half lidded. There's a trail of blood that leaves his nose, the color a little brighter than the one from the blood staining his lips and cheeks.
Zoro moans again, their blood making a mess of Sanji's face, of his own thighs.
Sanji kisses him later, the metallic taste in his mouth making Zoro groan, grabbing at blonde hair to press his own face against Sanji's, making a mess of them both as the cook slides home.
His cock goes in without a problem, comes back stained red, the hairs on Sanji's crotch already wet as well.
He fucks Zoro like a madman, moaning louder than he probably should've.
The rest of the crew is finishing lunch in the galley as they hide in the men's quarters. They don't have much time at all.
“I love you,” Sanji says in a whisper, holding Zoro's face.
It's so easy for him to say it, to believe it. He looks gone, high on sex, and looks at Zoro like he's the only thing he needs at that moment.
And Zoro might as well be. His need is being met, after all. He loves Zoro for giving him what he wants.
Almost all.
Zoro is still happy about that.
“Inside of you, yeah?” The cook questions, although Zoro knows he doesn't have much of a choice. Sanji will just do it anyway. “Get you nice and full...”
Sanji comes first with a muffled scream against Zoro's shoulder, pulling back after a moment to put his mouth back to good use. He licks Zoro's blood and his own come, sucks on Zoro's cock like nothing could be better.
Zoro smiles as he comes, sated and less pained thanks to the endorphins running through his body.
It seems to earn him a kiss, a press of lips against his cheek and then against his own lips.
He sticks his tongue out, taste himself and Sanji in the blonde's mouth, and opens his eye to see Sanji staring down at him with an easy smile on his lips.
“I'm so lucky,” Sanji whispers, and the smile on his lips is bright. He still looks high. “My love. All mine.”
Zoro hums; it's almost an agreement.
They part before someone can catch them, Sanji to take a shower, Zoro to clean himself with a rag he keeps for moments like those.
The phantom pain of his cramps are still there, despite the small respite.
It makes him smile as he lays on his cot to sleep a little, that pain sharing space with the pleasing ache on his body after sex.
He has to go to Chopper later, he knows, to try to get back on his hormones.
For now, he just basks in the bloody and violent way his body tells him he's safe for a little longer.
“Why don't you want it?” Sanji whispers, the men's quarters dark and quiet except for the snores of their nakama.
The blonde is lying on Zoro's cot, chest pressed against Zoro's back, hand placed over Zoro's belly. He seems to touch the stretch marks on brown skin, Zoro's body still heavier than it used to be — it's fine now, more controlled, he doesn't gain weight as much as he had the past few months.
It's a warm night, and Sanji adds to that warmth, but Zoro doesn't try to push the blonde away. He knows Sanji likes this kind of contact once in a while, and doesn't mind giving it to him when the blonde demands for it. At the end of the day, Sanji is still nakama. Still important despite everything.
The blonde's question sinks in, and it takes a moment for him to understand it. He doesn't try to open his eye and look back, doesn't even move. Not worth it.
“Never wanted kids,” he answers, trying to keep his voice down. “Don't think I ever will.”
“You'd be a good father,” Sanji tries to argue, pressing himself closer to Zoro's body, lips brushing against Zoro's shoulder. “You’re strong and loyal. You'd be good. They'd love you so much…”
There's silence, cut by Luffy's loud snores.
“You want me to tell you the same,” Zoro says, and it's not a question. He feels Sanji shrinking against him, waiting. “Sorry, Cook.”
He's not really surprised when Sanji gets up brusquely, pulling away like he's just been burned, like Zoro's voice had been poison on his tongue. Zoro still doesn't move, doesn't try to look, although he knows that, if he did, he'd see that cold and angry gaze in the blue of Sanji's eyes. He can hear it in the way the blonde moves to get back to his bed, in the huffs of his breath.
It sounds a bit like he's crying.
Zoro clenches his jaw at that, regrets it a little, but doesn't move. Lying is not his thing.