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Zoro noticed it the way he noticed everything he pretended not to care about.
Sanji laughed too easily lately.
Leaned too close. Let his hand linger at shoulders that didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t new behavior; Sanji had always been like this, but something about it felt sharper now, deliberate in a way Zoro couldn’t ignore. Every smile felt aimed. Every glance checked for witnesses. It almost seemed preformative, with an adorable blondie like him seeking the attention and approval of those who were easily persuaded by his antics.
Zoro almost obsessively observed it all, annoyed and frustrated by how easily the cook faltered when it came to attention. Zoro told himself it was nothing, that he had no business being so angry. Told himself Sanji was predictable, shallow, all noise and posturing. But his eyes tracked him anyway, counting the seconds Sanji spent too close to someone else, memorizing the way his voice softened when it wasn’t meant for Zoro. Sanji also noticed. Of course he did. He always noticed when Zoro stopped looking away. So he pushed. Turned charm into performance. Played the perfect man with too much precision, laughing louder, flirting harder, like he was proving a point no one had dared say out loud.
If Zoro thought he was replaceable, fine. He’d make it undeniable.
The air between them grew tight. Insults sharpened. Silences stretched. Their usual fights turned meaner, less theatrical, too personal to be routine.
When the confrontation finally came, it wasn’t explosive. It was worse than that. It was quiet with an unavoidable degree of intimacy, with a seeping undertone of insecurity no party was willing to admit to eachother.
Verbal communication was never a strong suit of either Sanji or Zoro, and their stubbornness didn’t help. Zoro didn’t shout. He stepped in Sanji’s space and stayed there, jaw tight, hand curling at his side like he was holding himself back from something unnamed. Whatever Sanji had been expecting, this wasn’t it.
“You done?”
Zoro asked, voice low. Sanji smiled, brittle and defiant.
“With what?”
Zoro didn’t answer. He just stared, eyes dark with something Sanji refused to name—something that made his chest tighten even as he leaned in, daring Zoro to say it first. Neither of them did.
The kitchen of the Merry was empty, with everyone else off running errands. Zoro slinked behind, and Sanji had opted to clean his space. This left them bith together, alone, in a room full of charged tension to the point where it was palpable.
“The way you look at every girl with fucking puppy-dog eyes.”
“Seems like you do the same with me.”
Zoro scoffed at the snide remark, almost amused by how shallow this cook’s perspective on this really was.
“You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re driving me insane.”
Sanji took that as jealousy talking. He chuckled to himself when he thought that Zoro’s hair must’ve been green for a reason; Envy. He stepped away from the sink, shifting closer to Zoro, a glint of challenge in his eye. His tone was laced with a lighthearted tone, as if he wasn’t taking this as seriously anymore.
“Enlighten me.”
He mused, his curly brows furrowing as he studied Zoro’s face as it tightened. Zoro grabbed Sanji’s collar and pulled; not enough to hurt, just enough to make his point. Sanji gasped, hand coming up to fist in Zoro’s shirt automatically, instinctively, like his body had decided before his pride could catch up.
“This isn’t a game,” Zoro said. Sanji’s breath came uneven. His eyes were dark now, defiant and something else entirely.
“Then stop playing.”
For a second, Zoro looked like he might. Like he might let go, step back, pretend this was just another fight. Instead, he leaned in.
Zoro didn’t give him time to rethink it.
He kissed him like it was a challenge. Mouth firm, unyielding, all tongue and heat. Sanji made a surprised sound against his lips, breath catching, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it, fingers tightening in Zoro’s shirt like he’d been waiting for the excuse. The kiss was messy. Angry. Their mouths collided more than fit at first, tension snapping as they tried to take control and refused to give it up at the same time. Zoro’s hand slid from the counter to Sanji’s waist, gripping hard enough to leave no room for doubt. Sanji kissed back harder. He bit Zoro’s lower lip, not enough to draw blood, just enough to make a point, and Zoro growled low in his throat, deepening the kiss without asking. It wasn’t tender. It was crowded and breathless and full of everything they’d never said out loud. Sanji’s back hit the counter again, this time deliberately. He hooked a hand behind Zoro’s neck, pulling him closer, like proximity alone could settle the argument burning between them.
“Still think this is my fault?” Sanji muttered between kisses. Zoro didn’t answer. He kissed him again instead, slower this time, more deliberate, like he was proving something to himself. Sanji felt it in the way Zoro hesitated just long enough to feel dangerous before committing fully. Their foreheads rested together when they finally broke apart, breaths uneven, lips swollen. The kitchen felt smaller now, charged and intimate in a way neither of them knew how to dismantle. Zoro’s thumb brushed Sanji’s jaw, almost absentminded. Possessive. Unapologetic. Sanji smiled. Soft, startled, with his lips kiss-swollen.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Thought so.”
Neither of them moved away. The space between them collapsed again, faster this time, like neither trusted the other not to bolt. Zoro’s hand slid from Sanji’s waist up his back, fingers splaying, pressing him harder against the counter. Not gentle. Grounding. Sanji exhaled sharply into the kiss, hips tipping forward on instinct before he caught himself, and didn’t correct it.
“So this is what you wanted?”
Sanji murmured, voice rough, breath ghosting over Zoro’s mouth. Zoro answered by kissing him again, deeper, slower, like he was done pretending this was impulse. His grip tightened, thumb digging in at Sanji’s side as if to keep him there, as if letting go might undo everything. Sanji shuddered. He hated how much that did to him. His hands slid under Zoro’s coat, palms flat against solid muscle, feeling the tension coiled there. Zoro sucked in a breath through his nose, the sound low and warning, and Sanji smiled into the kiss like he’d won something dangerous. They broke apart only long enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing. The silence between them was thick, buzzing.
“This doesn’t fix anything,”
Sanji said quietly. “I know,” Zoro replied.
“but it’ll shut you up for a while. Make you look at me instead.”
His mouth traced down Sanji’s jaw, not quite a kiss, close enough to make Sanji’s pulse jump. Sanji tilted his head back despite himself, knuckles whitening where he gripped the edge of the counter. Zoro paused there; hesitating, restrained, like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t unstep from.
“Say stop,” Zoro said, voice low. Sanji laughed softly, breathless and a little bitter. “You first.”
That was enough.
Zoro’s patience snapped. His hands weren’t enough. He needed more, needed skin on skin, a tangible claim. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head in one swift motion, tossing it aside. Bare chest gleaming with tension and faint scars, he didn’t look away from Sanji once. Sanji’s breath hitched, eyes widening for just a fraction before he turned it into a smirk. Half-provocation, half-anticipation.
“Getting serious now?” Zoro didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed closer, and his hands found the edge of Sanji’s jacket. With deliberate force, he peeled it off, tossing it aside. Sanji’s chest was bare, pale against the dim light of the galley, and Zoro’s fingers brushed his skin just long enough to draw a shiver. Sanji tilted his head back against the counter, letting the closeness and the heat settle between them.
“You’re reckless,” he muttered, voice low. Zoro leaned down, brushing lips over Sanji’s neck, his hands trailing lower. “Not reckless,” he growled, “just done with your bullshit.”
Sanji’s hands went to Zoro’s shoulders, tugging him closer, hips pressing forward. Heat pooled low, every nerve screaming as Zoro’s chest pressed to his. Their breaths came faster, messy and urgent, neither willing to back down. When Zoro’s lips finally met his again, it was less about fighting and more about claiming; bare skin, shallow breaths, and the tension between them sparking with every touch. The galley felt impossibly small, the ship’s creaks and the faint smell of cooking fading into the haze of heat and want that consumed them both. Their hands, their mouths, their bodies, they all spoke the words neither had the courage to say. Zoro began to grind his growing bulge against Sanji’s clothed crotch, which abrupted a curt whimper from the latter.
Zoro smirked at the noise, knowing the affect he held on the blonde. His large hands gripped Sanji’s hips, turning the cook around and bending him over the counter. Sanji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t object anything.
“Fuck, I can’t believe i’m hard,” Zoro huffed, his cheeks flushing as the admission slipped from his lips. Sanji was speechless, and could only look over his shoulder at Zoro, his eyes narrowed. Zoro added on by stating, “Especially over a stupid twink like you. Got me all worked up over a little bitch boy.”
Zoro’s fingers gripped the hem of his pants and boxers, slipping them down with ease. His hardened cock sprang free from the confinement of his clothes, slapping against his abdomen and smearing precum across his abs. He stepped out of it, leaving him completely nude. Sanji’s cheeks flushed at the notion, his cheeks a rosy red. Zoro could only smirk once more, knowing the erotic display was turning him on greatly.
“Too bad I have to be the one to fuck you.. your dick must be pretty small considering.. well, it’s you.”
“F-fuck off, Marimo.” Sanji huffed, stumbling over his words. His body was trembling with anticipation at this point, which made him even more embarrassed to look so desperate and riled up; Because the truth was, he was.
Zoro lowered Sanji’s pants as well, leaving the fabric to pool near his ankles beside Zoro’s. He admired the way Sanji’s back arched, his ass on bare display for his lustful eyes. His hand raised, and he gave Sanji’s ass a spank, which left his skin irritated.
Sanji buried his face in his arms, too embarrassed to reveal how much Zoro was affecting him. The head of his dick was rubbing against the counter below, which was a telltale sign he was really enjoying this.
Zoro gripped his own cock with his hands, rubbing the tip against Sanji’s puckered entrance. Sanji groaned, his voice muffled by his arms.
”You’re so sensitive..” Zoro remarked, in a tone that indicated disapproval. He let out a few teasing Tsk, tsk, tsk’s.. before he penetrated Sanji, the breach of his ass causing Sanji to his through his teeth, his face rising from his arms.
Zoro huffed, the tightness of Sanji’s insides borderlining painful with how close his inner walls clung to his cock, but he knew he’d enjoy it with time. His hips began grinding against Sanji’s ass after he bottomed out inside of him, shallowly thrusting. Sanji began to whimper, feeling the sensation of Zoro’s hand fisting his hair.
“Marimo.. ugh, mm.. s-stop..” Sanji huffed, attempting to regain his composure, but each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through him. Zoro knew his words were feigned, so he only picked up the pace to annoy and deepen that other feeling.
”Admit you like it and move on, jackass.” Zoro murmured, leaning over Sanji’s back and nipping at his earlobe playfully, leaving Sanji speechless.
Sanji’s moans grew more wanton as Zoro continued pumping in and out of him, his own hand moving to stroke his cock in time with Zoro’s thrusts.
As their breathing both grew more laboured and rigid, Zoro muttered, “I’m gonna cum, you bitch.. take it all like a fuckin’ slut.” His words were degrading, meant to be snide and hurtful, but it only proved to turn Sanji on more. Zoro held back however, determined to watch Sanji come undone on his rod.
”G-gah~ Marimo, I.. mmmh.. fuck..” Sanji couldn’t even form a coherent sentence before he moaned, his own essence coming out in thick sourts and coating the spruce wood of the counter. Zoro gripped Sanji’s hips and bucked his hips with more speed, now chasing his own climax.
”Take it all, you whore,” Zoro spat before his breath hitched, pumping Sanji with load after load of his cum. Sanji’s body shook beneath him, the warm and sticky feeling of his cum feeling foreign when it was inside of him like this.
Zoro collapsed on top of Sanji, his exhaustion imminent. Both of them breathed heavily as they bathed in the aftermath of their sex, with Sanji’s brows furrowing.
“No more breeding me like im a bitch in heat, okay?.. This was the first and last time.”
“.. Of more to come.” Zoro added on, smirking as he leaned in and suckled on Sanji’s neck, his teeth nipping at his pulse point simultaneously. Sanji’s breath hitched, his blush returning. “M-mmh!… Stop! This won’t look good when I speak to other women now..”
”Well, you don’t need to while i’m still here.” Zoro chuckled, enjoying how provoked Sanji was.