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“Okay, on the count of three, we all say a secret. Let the world take it off our shoulders or whatever,” Usopp said, raising his Dr. Pepper into the air. Everyone else nodded and raised their respective drinks.
“Okay. One…two…three! I keep stealing rubber bands from the librarian’s desk!”
“I sniffed Vivi’s bed sheets once at a sleepover!” Nami cried, blushing a beat red.
“I’m gay,” Zoro said simply.
“I ate all the leftovers at Zoro’s birthday party!” Luffy yelled.
“I’m having sex with my boss for extra money,” Sanji said with a monotone voice.
Everyone turned to look at the blonde in silence. Concern, shock, and confusion were written all over their faces. Sanji lowered his arm down, staring back at everyone.
“W-what?” He asked. “Why’s everyone looking at me like that?”
“You’re…fucking your boss?” Usopp asked, his voice cracking.
“The golf guy?” Luffy said. “He’s an asshole.”
“Isn’t he like…way older than you…?” Nami said, looking a bit disgusted, but there was an obvious layer of concern in her voice.
“That’s fucked,” Zoro barked, taking a swig of his beer.
“Guys,” Sanji laughed nervously, “Guys c’mon—it’s not—it’s not that bad.”
“He’s like fifty, dude,” Usopp pointed out.
“And your boss…” Nami added.
“I’m twenty! I’m an adult! I can make my own decisions! Plus, the money!” Sanji turned to Nami, frantic. “Nami you understand! The money! Money!”
“You need to quit your job, babe, like, yesterday.”
Sanji squinted his eyes. He had heard enough. “I’m turning in for the night. Marimo, don’t wake me up with your snores when you go inside my tent.” He got up from his spot around the fire and left.
“It’s our! Our tent!”
“Fuck you!”
“We need to kill that golf guy,” Luffy said.
“For once, I’m inclined to agree,” Usopp nodded solemnly. Nami nodded in agreement, and then looked at Zoro.
“Will you say something! He’s your friend too!”
“Why should I care? If he wants to fuck his gross boss, let ‘em.” He was going to take another drink of his beer when Nami reached over, snatched the bottle out of his hand and threw it out into the darkness of the woods. Zoro stared at her. He let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.
“Fine! We’ll kill him, are you happy?” He relented.
“Wait, are we actually killing someone?!” Usopp asked with wide eyes.
“No!” Nami yelled, like it was obvious.
“Yes,” Luffy said at the same time. Nami slapped the back of his head. “No…?”
“Of course not! We’ll just…convince him to quit his job?” Nami said, not sure of it even herself.
“He does live paycheck to paycheck,” Usopp reminded her.
“Yeah, but only because he lives alone,” Nami argued. “Maybe we can convince him to move in with his dad? Until he gets a new job, without any creeps…”
“There is no way Sanji is going to move back in with Zeff,” Zoro laughed dryly. Nami furrowed her brows, frowning at Zoro.
“You know, maybe Sanji wouldn’t have to fuck his boss if someone hadn’t broken up with him and moved out!”
“How is that my fault? I didn’t tell him to go fuck that guy for money,” Zoro retorted. “Since you’re so worried about him, why don’t you let him crash at our place then?” He stood up abruptly, stuffing his hands in his hoodie. “I’m going to bed. Hope you come up with your amazing rescue plan.”
“Asshole!” Nami cried as Zoro made his way to their tents. He gave her the middle finger.
Zoro opened up the tent, making his way inside. He sat down on his side, taking off his shoes and placing them near the entrance and slid off his jeans. Among the ruffling of fabric, he heard a faint sniffle. He turned back, looking at the shape in the sleeping bag.
“Hey,” he called out softly, taking off his hoodie, “you awake?”
Sanji stayed quiet for a moment. “Of course I am. I don’t knock out like a certain moss covered rock.” He sounded like he had been crying.
Zoro got into his bag, arms up and head resting on his hands.
“Is he, like, forcing you?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“Why do you care?” Sanji shot back, but he was tired so his voice held no anger. “I just need the extra money. That’s all. Good thing my boss is an old perv, and rich.”
“You could get another job. I doubt you enjoy it.”
“Yeah, cause you know me so well,” Sanji spat. “I’m a full time student. I can’t quit. Or go part-time.”
“Look,” Zoro started, biting his lip. “If you need help paying rent—you can just ask us to chip in, you idiot.”
“I’m paying rent just fine,” Sanji said. “Don’t bother yourself.”
“Then what? What the fuck is it? Tuition?”
“No—”
“Then what is it Sanji—”
“Zeff’s sick, okay?” Zoro froze in shock. First time he’d heard about it. Sanji’s voice wobbled, “He’s really sick. And his insurance only covers half of the shit he needs so I—I need the money. I just need to do it until he gets better okay? So just, tell everyone to leave it be.”
“Sanji,” Zoro stressed. He instinctively reached out a hand, but ultimately decided against it.
“Just forget about it,” Sanji sniffled. “And don’t tell anyone…okay? Promise?”
“Fine. I promise.”
“Don’t wake me up with your snoring, Marimo.”
Sanji adjusted his blue shorts as he waited on the sideline for his boss to finish his conversation with his golf buddies. He leaned back against the wall and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his social media, wanting to see what his friends were up to. Nami posted a series of pictures of her outings with Vivi the past few days. One picture showed Vivi who was sitting in front of Nami, there was a bowl of ice cream on the table in front of her, and in the foreground was Nami’s matching bowl. There was a little smiley face made from chocolate syrup on the ice cream. Another photo was a selfie of them, Vivi smiling at the camera as Nami kissed her cheek.
Sanji smiled to himself and liked the post and wrote a small comment: “You two look lovely as always!!! 🩵”
He scrolled for a few minutes more. Usopp was lamenting about his midterms and once again debating why he had decided on art as a major. Luffy’s posts, like always, were surprisingly good photos of food he had eaten around town.
A whistle hit his ears and he quickly put his phone back into his pockets. He straightened up as he looked at his boss. The tall man pointed to the right, signaling to Sanji that it was time to head out to the course. Sanji nodded and picked up the golf bag and hung it on his shoulder.
They walked onto the field, his boss’s friends were joining them today it seemed. Which Sanji wasn’t really upset about, at least now his boss wouldn’t make any small talk with him.
Speaking of the devil himself, an arm slithered around his shoulders, pulling him closer to the man walking next to him.
“What do you say, my dear caddie, we go to the northeast course after I beat these guy’s asses?” he teased. His friends laughed dryly.
“If you beat me, it’s because I let you win Doffy,” one of them said.
“You betting, V?” Doffy replied. He looked at Sanji, he could vaguely see his eyes through his red sunglasses. “You think he can beat me?”
Sanji swallowed and smiled tightly, “Uh, no, sir. I don’t think so, but I don’t know how he plays so…maybe it could be a fun competition?” He cringed at his own response.
Doffy smirked and looked back at his friend. “You hear that? Better make it worth my while.”
“Of course.”
And of course, Doffy won. He always won. Sanji would sometimes pray as he saw that damn ball fly that Doffy would miss the fucking shot for once. But down the hole it goes. Confidence almost oozed out of his boss when he won by such a large margin. And then he got “excited”, as Sanji would say.
Honestly, Sanji was a mediocre caddie. Doffy was experienced so he knew his way around golf and everything that came with it better than Sanji. At first when he had gotten the job, Sanji thought the guy was just lonely. Most rich people get fucking lonely in their big mansions and get bored with life so they hang out with the common folk like Sanji to keep life interesting.
Then he had been asked to wear shorts above his knees and was told he didn't even need to wear his caddie vest. The shirts he usually wore were a tight fit. And his legs filled out his shorts oh so slightly. So, safe to say his boss was not lonely in the normal way.
He hadn’t even tried anything, really. He just mostly stared at Sanji’s ass when he bent down to pick something up.
It was only after Zeff got sick and the first medical bill had been given that Sanji got the idea. So, really, for all intents and purposes, Sanji was a willing participant in this. He was! He was the instigator! ‘Is He FoRcInG yOu?’ Fuck off. Why the hell did that mosshead even care?
The money was really, really good.
So that’s how Sanji had ended up bouncing on his boss’s overgrown cock under a tree in a golf cart. Usual routine really, northeast was code for “victory fuck.” Sometimes it was in the bathroom. Or sometimes in the back of his car. God help his poor chauffeur and whoever had to clean up the backseat.
He held on tightly to his boss’s shirt collar, his other hand resting and gripping the meat of a clothed thigh. Large hands gripped his waist, pulling him up and down on the cock that was splitting him into. God, he hated tall men with accurate proportions. And for an older man, he had too much stamina for Sanji’s liking.
High pitched whines were punched out of him, teeth gnawing on the fabric of his shirt. Doffy reached up to his binder and pulled it up his chest, the same hand immediately going to play with his exposed chest. Sanji’s face flared with embarrassment at the unwarranted touch, rough pads of fingers pinching and pulling. He had long learned to just suppress any uncomfortable feelings. Rule number one with his boss, let him do what he wants without objection.
“Who’s the best you’ve ever had?” His disgusting voice echoed in his ears.
Two, he had a big ego.
“Y-you, sir!” Sanji’s muffled voice cried out. “You’re the best! You’re so big!” Sanji’s hips slammed down faster, Doffy’s hips rising to meet his slick cunt. Heat pooled in his stomach, his body chasing its high. Doffy’s hand left his chest—thank god—-and moved down to Sanji’s neglected dick. Doffy rubbed it in chaotic circles, thrusting his cock into Sanji. Sanji gasped, his shirt falling out of his mouth, he moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. He grabbed onto Doffy’s arm, squeezing hard as the feeling became too overwhelming and he cried out as he orgasmed, whole body spasming from its intensity.
Doffy grunted and thrusted into Sanji’s tightened cunt and stilled, spilling into Sanji. Sanji breathed out heavy puffs of air, beads of sweat rolling down his face.
When his boss pulled out of him, Sanji felt his seed leak out of his abused hole. The pain of that IUD going in him was totally worth it. And the paycheck even more.
Sanji knocked on the door of Zeff's house. He heard shuffling inside and the familiar grumbling of an old man very dear to his heart.
He heard the locks unlock and smiled brightly as the door opened.
“Get that weird smile off your face, eggplant,” Zeff grumbled as he laid eyes on Sanji. Sanji tried not to think about how skinny his father had gotten.
Sanji put his hands on his hips. “Why aren’t you ready, you old bastard? You have dialysis in an hour.” Zeff stepped aside to let Sanji in.
“Can’t I skip this one? Sucks the life outta me. How can I cook myself food?”
“No, you can’t skip, you know that. And I’ll cook dinner when we get back—”
“Your cooking will kill me faster than this disease will,” Zeff heckled him. “Focus on your school instead of some old man.”
“I am, you know that,” Sanji sat on the couch. “Go get ready, I do not want traffic to start piling up.” Zeff grumbled but made his way upstairs.
Sanji really hated hospitals. From a design perspective, he supposed it looked nice, but the smell of disinfectant and constant murmuring of voices throughout always set him on edge. He had checked Zeff in and had elected to wait downstairs.
He had had a consistent feeling of deja vu ever since Zeff had gotten sick. First his mom. And now his dad. At least this time he could do something instead of just watching someone he loved deteriorate into a husk of themselves.
Zeff would get better. He had to. And if they were lucky, Zeff could get a match for a new set of kidneys. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.
“No! No, beer!” Sanji yelled. “Do you want to make things worse?”
“Can’t even drink something to get the edge off, I’m living in a prison and my own son is the warden,” Zeff shook his head. Sanji rolled his eyes as he brought their plates to the table.
“Well, this warden just wants his dad to get better, so, I would appreciate it if you worked with me here,” Sanji responded, irritated at his dad’s apathy.
“Kid,” Zeff started. “You know I’m not gonna get better. I’ll be lucky if I live five more years at my age.”
Now it was Sanji’s turn to be stubborn. “Miracles happen. Look at Luffy, he got born with a fucked up beat in his heart and got told he’s never make it to four. Now he’s eighteen, so…”
“Well, I’m not Luffy. And I’m pretty sure that boy is just surviving out of pure spite at this point,” Zeff countered. “I’ve lived my life, got nothing to be spiteful about.”
“Can you at least try? For me?” Sanji pleaded, trying to keep his composure.
“Only time will tell.”
They ate silently and Sanji volunteered to wash the dishes. “Can I…can I stay the night?” He asked, not looking behind him.
“Your room’s still in the same place as always, eggplant,” Zeff responded. Sanji heard the creaking of the stairs as he went up. Sanji dried off his hands and put the plates and pots away into their cabinets.
Everything would be fine. Fine, fine, fine. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.