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"I've been thinking," Sanji starts.
"Oh, have you? Could'a sworn you weren't capable of such things."
Sanji bares his teeth in retaliation. "Die."
Roronoa Zoro, first mate, swordsman, and resident pain in the ass of the Strawhat Pirates lounges lazily on the couch that sits in the far corner of the Sunny's galley, fiddling with something Sanji believes is a fidget toy invented by either Usopp or Franky. Morning sunlight streams through the porthole, blushing the kitchen and Zoro in a peachy light.
"No." Zoro yawns so wide that Sanji hears his jaw pop and shudders at the horrid sound.
"Then go back to bed and leave me alone!"
Zoro flips him off and drags the blanket resting atop the sofa down and onto his body, snuggling up. It's really unfair how cute he is, Sanji thinks. Such adorable wiles should never be wasted on someone who thinks that the world moves around him. And yet.
"Tell me what you were thinkin' about," he grunts from his comfy cocoon.
"I was thinking," Sanji begins again, resuming whisking his French toast mixture, "That we've never had a heat together."
Zoro scowls. "We're both on suppressants. We get heats once a year. Why the hell would we have spent one together?"
Suppressants affect every Alpha, Beta, and Omega differently depending on their individual biology and type of suppressant. Some individuals take suppressants that completely mute their heats and ruts altogether, some only mute mating heats and ruts, and some, like the recipe Chopper has invented, suppress those hormonal cycles for most of the year. The shot is administered once a year, something Zoro is secretly glad about, and lasts about 365 days, whereupon the Alpha, Beta, or Omega will have a heat or rut cycle. Prior to Chopper joining the crew, Sanji had been on dangerously high doses of suppressants and blockers and Zoro had been living fast and loose with irregular doses that almost certainly screwed his endocrine system up.
"That's not what I'm saying, mosshead," Sanji snaps. "I was thinking about asking you to spend yours with me while I have mine. Shithead." He finishes whisking, dropping the utensil on the already overflowing spoon dish, and dipping thick slices of toast into the batter.
The furrow in Zoro's brow deepens. "Wouldn't it be weird? It's a mate heat, not a pack heat."
"You're my boyfriend." Sanji itches to light the cigarette he's been furiously chewing for the past fifteen minutes, but abstains. He has pride in his food, after all.
Zoro somehow shrinks even further into his blanket and tries for an air of disinterest, but his anxiety shines through. "Yeah, but. Y'know. You're probably all picky with how you nest and shit. And territorial. I heard Omegas like that don't like anyone in their space."
Sanji throws a wooden spoon at the sentient plant. "I am not "territorial,"" he retorts. Unless you plan on nesting in the kitchen, which I'll kill you if you do, everything should be fine." He pauses. "Is this an embarrassment thing for you?"
Zoro flushes. "Huh? Me, embarrassed? As if!" He throws the spoon back.
Sanji catches the spoon gracefully as he drops the soggy toast onto the griddle, producing a very appetising sizzling noise. "Then there's no problem, is there?" He crows.
"Guess not," Zoro grunts back.
"Good!"
"Good."
They hit their heats in a week. Omega/Omega couples aren't unheard of, but theyre usually between men and women, not two men. Zoro spends the whole week with Alpha men, women, and nonbinary folks breathing down his neck, hoping for just a taste of the future World's Greatest Swordsman. Sanji spends the week seething.
His scent isn't strong, and despite the fact that he's only in pre-heat, everyone and their mother seems to have suddenly noticed that Zoro is cute, handsome, and pretty all at once. Older Betas coo and try and squish his cheeks while younger Alphas clumsily try to get in his pants. He rejects all advances, of course, something that makes Sanji preen, but jealousy still gnaws at him. He should be the one trying to smell the scent of fresh grass, metal, and choji oil that both clings to and emanates from Zoro.
"Zoro doesn't seem to be having too much fun," Luffy remarks over a mouthful of what appears to be turkey.
Sanji relaxes the jaw he's been grinding for half the evening. "Guess so."
"I heard that people are really possessive of their partners when this stuff happens," Luffy continues. "It's good you're not like that. I think it'd make Zoro angry, and not in the funny way."
Sanji is like that, though. He's just... really good at self control. Probably. Way better than Zoro, for sure, who's starting to lose his temper at the fucking massive woman hitting on him. She's easily seven feet tall with greasy blonde hair and a crooked smile that suggests she's not interested in taking no for an answer. Sanji's self control has nothing to do with the fact that he could never hit a woman, no matter how much he wants to.
Zoro, however, does not share this belief. He stands up from the dirty bar to his full height which is... admittedly not that imposing, and gives her his best demonic scowl. "Not. Interested," he snarls. Something akin to a shudder rolls across the woman's skin, and if Sanji didn't know better, he'd say it feels like the aura his boyfriend produces when he summoned his Asura form all the way back on Sabaody and Enies Lobby.
"Sheesh, fine," the woman scoffs, though the sweat and goosebumps on the back of her neck speak to pure terror. She not-so-subtly skedaddles off. The crowd near his at the bar counter disperses a little, while those that choose to stay and wait for their drinks give the swordsman a wide berth.
Sanji relaxes just a little, sinking back into the unpleasantly sticky red booth. Under the dingy yellow light that doesn't quite reach the corner the Strawhats have holed themselves in, Zoro looks gorgeous. Sanji would never publicly admit it, of course, but the bob of his lover's adam's apple as he knocks back another shot has his pants feeling a bit tight and his cheeks, neck, and body feeling warm and—
Oh.
He's in heat. The very beginnings of it, anyways.
Sanji's heats aren't like in porn; becoming a drooling pathetic mess for the taste of Alpha cock. Rather, he's miserable, horny, and more aggressive than usual. It's very similar to an Alpha's rut, if not for the cramping and desire to nest. He's not a typical Omega in that way— something he's actually quite proud of. Despite what most decide about Omegas, Sanji is designed to give and serve. He is more than his biology.
Zoro, however, has hinted that his heats very much are, and Sanji has been chomping at the bit to see his strong and stoic partner lose his composure and beg. Occasionally Zoro tops or uses his mouth to bring Sanji to the edge over and over again until he's crying and begging, but this time? This time Sanji has the upper hand. Despite usually topping, it seems his houseplant of a partner is always in control. He's almost giddy at the idea of an upset.
"I gotta..." He waves his hands around nervously, hoping Luffy will catch his drift. Luffy never presented, a rarity, but not unheard of. His rubber biology simply... didn't allow it. His sense of smell, while uncanny and dog-like, only applies to food, not presenters.
He doesn't understand.
"Gotta what?"
Sanji grimaces. If he has to admit he's in heat he's gonna cough up blood. Thankfully, Usopp sniffs the air and catches on.
"Luffy. Buddy. Sanji has to get back to the Sunny. He's in heat."
Luffy glances back and forth between the Alpha whispering in his ear and Sanji, who's started to sweat. "Oh!" His grin is wide and forgiving. "Why didn't you just say so!" He peels himself out of the booth and lets Sanji stumble gracelessly out of the booth. "Zoro!"
The swordsman perks up.
"Sanji's going back to the ship! Go with him!"
Zoro cocks his head for a moment, frowning, but the whiff of his boyfriend seems to catch his nose, and he nods. "Come on, Curls. Let's go."
Sanji, for once, doesn't argue. He follows Zoro out into the muggy night, loosening his tie and opening the top two buttons of his shirt. "Fuckin' hot out here."
"Yeah. Probably because it's a tropical island, moron." He dodges the lazy kick Sanji sends his way. "Ship. Now."
Sanji catches just a hint of the smell emanating from his boyfriend and realizes if Zoro doesn't go into heat tonight, it'll be tomorrow. Zoro's just as fucked as he is. Maybe more so, if Sanji does most of the topping. Or all of it.
They stumble onto the ship, Sanji half-leaning his weight onto Zoro. He doesn't need to, but he's really happy laving his tongue up and down the expanse of Zoro's throat, only stopping to redirect the swordsman every so often.
"You should fuck me right here," he whispers.
Zoro's knees almost turn to jelly and it's Sanji's turn to support him. "Fuck," he mutters, neck growing hot and stomach beginning to cramp. "I ah– think mines starting too."
Sanji grins against his neck. "C'mon, mossy," he murmurs. "Let's go to the heat room."
The heat room is a room that Franky converts once or twice a year into a heat or rut room. It's theoretically the Captain's quarters, though Luffy had told Franky in the beginning he wanted to bunk with his friends, so it became the generic whatever-we-need-it-for room. It's soundproofed, for sex and snoring reasons, and comes equipped with bedding, minor first aid supplies, various sex toys, and items from the crew. Zoro appreciates the thought, really, but since this is a mate heat he has no need for the items from his crew.
He still snags one of Luffy's old vests.
"Don't tell me we're nesting now," Sanji groans. Zoro swats his head.
"Ugh. Fine."
Sanji isn't really a "nest guy," despite what people may believe. Maybe after the sex is done. Not all Omegas have the drive to nest extensively, and since Sanji leans more towards a Beta or Alpha in presentation, he tends to go heats without nesting even once. Zoro, however, grabs some blankets and pillows and arranges them in a circle, leaning the center of the bed bare. Luffy's vest is mixed somewhere in there. It smells like meat and rubber and sunshine. The rest of the nest smells like Zoro, who's taken to climbing inside the nest and rubbing his cheeks on the pillows.
"Can I come in?"
"Obviously," Zoro snaps.
Sanji feels slick begin to slide down his thigh. "Ah, give me a second." He pulls away from the bedside, ignoring the twist in his stomach at leaving Zoro behind, and begins to rifle through the chest of drawers. When he finds what he's looking for, he turns back to his partner with a devious grin.
And then rolls his eyes.
The flush on Zoro's cheeks has darkened to that of a rich plum colour, and he's shed his shirt, haramaki, and pants, leaving only his boxers on. The blush spreads down his chest, making the scars under his pecs all the more visible.
Sanji considers mocking him for being hit harder by the heat despite it just starting, but the heat in his groin dissuades him.
"C'mere," Zoro pants. Sanji acquiesces.
Up close, Zoro is covered in a fine sheen of sweat that glistens as he shifts uncomfortably. Sanji cups his lover's cheek in his palm and Zoro nuzzles into it, pupils blown wide. Shit. He's halfway to gone.
"Can I try something on you?"
Zoro cracks open his good eye. "Yeah."
Sanji grins even more. From behind his back, he produces a plug, a knotted dildo, a vibrator, and sea stone handcuffs. "If anything's too far, let me know." He knows firsthand how terrible handcuffs can be.
Zoro whines and Sanji's cock begins to plump in his slacks. "Do whatever you want to me, Curls. Fuck, want you so bad." The hazy look in his eye clears for a moment and returns tenfold after his admission.
"Good mossy," Sanji croons. "Give me your wrists."
Zoro surprisingly complies— something Sanji hadn't anticipated. He'd expected the man to at least argue, but Zoro seems desperate to behave as long as it will get a cock in him. The rapidly spreading damp spot on his boxers confirms this idea.
Sanji snaps one cuff in place, then threads the other through the slats in the headboard. "Oy. Moss."
"Hm?"
"Don't break the bed, hear me?"
Zoro snaps his teeth in response but when Sanji remains unimpressed he grumpily nods his assent. Satisfied, Sanji locks the second cuff, leaving Zoro with his arms restrained above his head, unable to touch Sanji. The keys are still in the drawer the cuffs came from, so he should have no problem freeing Zoro. Not that he'd want to. Perhaps he should keep Zoro like this, helpless and pliant, just waiting for a cock in one of his holes or for Sanji to ride his strap for hours.
He's brought back from his fantasy by the warm blood trickling down his lips. Right. Sex. He's supposed to be having sex, not fantasizing about sex.
"Swirls." Zoro prods Sanji with his foot. "Kiss?" The pleading look in his dark eyes is just so endearing that Sanji can't help but lean down and meet his partner's lips as he beings to divest himself of his own clothing.
The cool air is a blessing on his clammy skin, and apparently a blessing to Zoro, who whines at a glimpse of chest hair.
"Freak," Sanji chastises.
"You're the ones displayin' your tits like a whore," Zoro shoots back, as if he's not almost naked. The smell of metal strengthens until it smells almost like blood, and Sanji realizes Zoro is growing desperate. How had he not paid much attention to his mate's scent before? Now it's cloying and oppressive, demanding him to obey and fuck Zoro.
"Calm down, idiot," he hisses, despite the fact his own hands are shaking as he rips his belt off. He throws his slacks and boxers somewhere across the room. That's a later Sanji problem.
The cool air hits his dripping cock and slick thighs and he shudders.
"Fuck, Cook," Zoro rasps. "Always so pretty naked."
Zoro and Sanji have slept together exactly eight times. Nine, now, Sanji supposes. Most times have been in the dark of the crow's nest late at night, with Sanji's fingers stuffed into Zoro's mouth to muffle him. To know that Zoro has appreciated even the rarest of glimpses of Sanji's nude body has his cock twitching against his stomach. Perhaps he is a little self-centered, but getting Zoro to admit Literally Anything is like pulling teeth.
Sanji climbs back onto the bed and tucks his nose into the crook of Zoro's jaw and neck where his scent glands are located, alternating kisses and nips until the grassiness of Zoro's scent overpowers the other notes and he's whining and squirming. "Please," he croaks out, and Sanji can't bear to leave his lover hanging like this. There's much to be said about he's just as desperate, but his Omega demands that he please his moss.
"Don't worry, Mossy," he murmurs.
Sanji squirts enough lube onto the plug and reaching behind himself, slowly slides it into his own slick-soaked hole. The relief is instantaneous. A rush of goosebumps breaks out all over his body at the feeling of fullness, though and undercurrent begs for more more more. He ignores it for now.
"Fuck," Zoro hisses, hips bucking. "Wanna do that to you."
Sanji grins and skirts his fingers over the waistband of Zoro's boxers. "Oh yeah?"
Zoro bites his lip and nods. He's positively drenched in sweat, and if Sanji wasn't also in the same boat he'd be worried.
"Well, too bad, Marimo. I'm in control."
Zoro whines as Sanji peels his absolutely soaked boxers off. His clit—fat and round and almost purple with arousal—twitches pathetically while stings of slick snap as the fabric pulls away from his dripping cunt.
"Christ, Mossy," Sanji whispers, his own hole clenching around the plug. He drags two fingers from Zoro's hole to his clit, smearing the slick around. The scent of freshly mowed grass increases until Sanji's head is swimming in it, and before he realizes, he's leaned down, flattening his body against the mattress, and begun lapping as much slick as he can up.
Zoro moans at the flat of Sanji's tongue against his cunt. "Please, cook," he whines. "Hurts."
He's shaking now, Sanji realizes. He'd assumed Zoro was exaggerating in some way about his heat being stereotypical, but it appears not, as he shakes through his first orgasm even though Sanji has barely touched his cock. He pulls desperately at the handcuffs that chain his to the bed and Sanji can tell he wants nothing more than to fuck his mouth. Instead, he slides a finger into Zoro's pussy and moans at the slick heat enveloping him. A second finger joins the first and Zoro almost sobs.
"Pleasepleaseplease. Need more," he whimpers.
Sanji has to pinch his nose to stop the oncoming nosebleed. It's one thing for Zoro to beg. It's another to see the proud swordsman who typically struggles to admit Literally Anything begging and pleading after just two fingers. Normally, Sanji has to work to get him this desperate. It's a heady feeling.
Two fingers turns to three fingers turns to another orgasm turns to four fingers and Zoro openly sobbing now, begging for Sanji's knot.
"You know I don't have one, Mossy," he sighs as Zoro writhes.
It falls on deaf ears.
"W'nt you in me," Zoro slurs. "Pleeeeease." He's reached the point of his heat where he's lost all coherence.
Sanji pets his flank to reassure him (and to wipe his soaked fingers off) and when Zoro shudders at the absence, Sanji thrusts in.
It's the best feeling in the world, he thinks. He'd severely underestimated how sensitive his heat would make him, and judging by the cum now trickling out of Zoro's pussy, he has a few minutes before he's in trouble. Except...
Zoro pants just as hard as Sanji, clearly having come at the same time.
"Mosshead," Sanji whispers. "Did you cum just from me?"
Zoro nods dazedly. "Think so," he admits.
Sanji buries his face in Zoro's shoulder with a snort. "Oh my god," he laughs. "Shit, I was worried you'd be mad, and here you are just as bad."
Zoro wraps his legs around Sanji's thighs and yanks him further into his cunt. Sanji's pretty sure he screams into surprise. He'll never admit it though. "Keep going."
Sanji shakes off the fog threatening to cloud his mind when Zoro manages to press the plug in his ass and his vision whites out completely. When he can finally see again, he realizes he's grabbed Zoro's legs and pressed them as far back towards his chest as they'll go and begun pounding him into the mattress.
Zoro is so far gone at this point that Sanji distantly worries if his brain will leak out of his ears. His eyes are rolled back in his head, mouth open, and he's panting and drooling and whining something that could be Sanji's name.
It's fucking heavenly how Zoro clenches around his cock on each thrust. Sanji has fully given up on stemming the blood that trickles freely from his nose, instead letting it splatter all over Zoro's ample chest. He's so pretty like this, presented to Sanji. All warm brown skin and muscles covered in a healthy layer of fat— relaxed enough so Sanji can squeeze and knead like a cat. His full lips part on each sound he makes; face scrunched up not in anger but pleasure.
"Th– ah– theretherethere," he sobs.
Sanji thrusts again. "Here?"
Zoro nods. "So good. Feels so good."
If Sanji could, he'd be giggling and kicking his feet. Thankfully, having his dick in Zoro prevents that. He pounds away, reaching down to massage Zoro's cock which is an angry purple at this point, and Zoro comes again with a gush of slick that almost certainly soaks through to the mattress.
Sanji whines and buries his face in Zoro's shoulder yet again, mouthing at the column of his throat to keep himself focused. He holds himself up by his left arm, gripping the blankets for dear life. It's no use, though, and he's sobbing as he comes a second time, hips pistoning inside Zoro's hole.
"Just like that," Zoro croons.
As he catches his breath, Sanji realizes two things. One: His heat has made its awful reappearance, cramping stomach and all. Two: Zoro is begging to be knotted. The first realization he has an answer for, which is why he'd even bothered to grab the knotted dildo. The second— well. Zoro won't accept the knotted dildo. His fist, however.
Sanji pulls the plug out of his ass with a shudder and pours lube on the dildo. It's gonna be unpleasant, a part of his brain recognizes, but it's better than leaving Zoro chained to the bed while he preps himself. Besides, the heat has relaxed his muscles enough. Maybe. Probably.
He raises himself up on his knees, positioning the silicone cock underneath himself, and sinks down. The stretch burns a little, but it's not as bad as he'd suspected. Perhaps being in heat has its advantages.
When he reaches the base, right above the knot, Sanji raises himself back up and drops down, hitting his prostate damn near immediately. He's avoiding the knot still, but the pleasure almost makes him buckle. "Fuuuuuuuck," he hisses out.
Sanji raises himself again, dropping down, over and over again, hitting his prostate on every thrust. The pleasure is so white-hot that he doesn't even realize hes babbling; telling Zoro how pretty he is and how much he wants to fuck him forever.
"Come on Cook," Zoro pleads. "Please." It's unclear if he's begging Sanji to cum or if he just wants a cock in him.
Sanji rides the dildo faster, breath coming out in gasps and whines. His eyes barely manage to stay open as he surrenders himself to the feeling of being fucked with little ah-ah-ahs. Just as he's about to cum, he sinks down all the way, feeling the pop of the knot in his hole. He shakes and graps at the sheets, curling in on himself as white ropes of cum shoot from his cock. Zoro moans too, unabashedly aroused by watching Sanji fall apart.
"So good for me, Curls," he murmurs. "Just like that."
Sanji mouths absently at Zoro's plush thighs as his soul re-enters his body. The knot stays locked in his hole, sating his heat for now, which means he can focus on Zoro who's still squirming with discomfort.
"Wanna fist you," he chokes out. "Can I?"
Zoro throws his head back with a groan. Sanji doesn't miss the way his clit twitches in obvious arousal. "You can do anything to me, Swirly."
Gently biting and nipping at Zoro's thighs, Sanji shoves four fingers back into the man, pleased to see he's still relaxed enough to take it. He pushes his face into Zoro's crotch and deeply inhales, moaning at the concentrated smell of metal, grass, choji, and pussy. Zoro looks away, clearly embarrassed that Sanji enjoys this so much, but almost crushes his head with his thighs when the blond sucks his clit into his mouth.
"Haaah— fuck," he pants. "Ohhhh my god." Sanji could definitely die happy doing this.
He alternates sucks, licks, and the occasional nip until Zoro's eyes are glazed over again. His poor Marimo. So sensitive in heat. Zoro tightens around his fingers as Sanji tounges desperately at his clit and squeezes with his thighs so hard that it's a miracle Sanji doesn't burst like a melon. His back arches off the bed, eyes rolling back in his head, as he comes for a fourth time with a shout and a gush of liquid that Sanji slurps down like a man dying of thirst in the desert. With the way his heat leaves him feeling, he may as well be.
Zoro's walls flutter through the aftershocks of his orgasm and relax, which prompts Sanji to fit his thumb in alongside the rest of his fingers.
Zoro shakes in overstimulation but whines and keeps moving his hips, clearly torn between less and more. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck— AH—!" Sanji curls his fingers into a fist, pulling back from Zoro's abused clit and thrusts. Zoro arches again, eyes rolling back in his head and jaw dropping in silent pleasure as Sanji keeps fucking into him with his fake knot. Sweat drips down him in rivulets and tears pour from his eyes, which Sanji does his best to kiss away. Warm, wet walls clamp around his fist and suck him in further; Zoro's body welcoming him like coming home and his name falling off his lips like a prayer. Sanji almost hopes he dies this way.
"Imagine if the world could see you like this," he teases, twisting his fist in a way that makes Zoro cry. "The big strong Pirate Hunter begging for my knot. The Demon of the East, they say, but you're just a cockslut, huh?" Zoro bites his quivering lip, attempting to ground himself for some sort of comeback, but Sanji refuses to let him, hammering away at his g-spot.
He may be exploiting Zoro's typical shyness and fear of embarrassment, but the man is so far in the throes of heat that Sanji doubts he cares too much.
One, two, three more thrusts and Zoro comes on his "knot" with a scream and a gush of clear fluid spraying from his cunt like a sprinkler, and Sanji belatedly realizes with dread that he has to keep his poor cramping fist inside Zoro for a few more minutes.
"Mossy," he whispers. "Moss."
Zoro cracks open his eye, chest still heaving. "Yeah?" Shit, he's wrecked.
"I can't unlock you until I can pull my fist out," Sanji admits, throat dry.
Zoro sighs, relaxing in his bonds. "Well, damn."
Sanji licks his lips. "Not numb, right?"
"Nah."
Sanji slumps forwards, ass in the air. His face lands on the pillows. "Good. I'm about t' sleep."
Zoro blanches. "Hey! What? You said a few minutes, not an hour!"
"Too l'te," Sanji slurs into the pillow. "G'night."
"You're so lucky I don't have my swords."